Chapter Two

Even back at home. For those who thought. That East or West. Home is the best. Keep your hopes at rest.

For even her parents. Saw her flaw. And for years now. They had wished. The ugliest of them all. Would not have been. Their daughter.

But with it they had to cope. For it was their blood. Rushing through her veins. And night when she reached home. She was still invisible. All she got was food.

Though at a separate table.

What a poor girl! Sometimes she wished. By her side. Would be a brother. Would be a sister. But deep she knew. Even a sister. One of her blood. Would betray her.

So her parents. They treat her like a stranger. Even to a point. She does good in school. But no one notices. For they all know. The world won't accept her.

So goodbye hope. Though she never lost hope. Even when the world. Saw the darkness in her eyes.

Yet at another place. Away. But still in the city. There is a family. That of Lukas. Lukas Scottville.

He is mad. Tempered. Deep in his eyes. It is seen. He is tired. Tired of the noises. His parents can't shut up. For they keep speaking. Of how weak. How unworthy. He is.

So! The perfect of them all. He was never perfect! He does hide a secret. That he can't learn. Or at least he can. But he is blind on the papers. For none of the exams he had done. Has he seen light.

His father scolds him. Even for the smallest things. Things those. Which not need scolding. Even a mistake. That unseen normally. For his father. Is ever searching. For that one mistake.

For him. His son seems less. And every time. Calls him names. Like a spear to the heart. Or an arrow to the spine. Reminds him. How his mind. Cold as stone left out in the night.

Is.

His mother no different. For both are blind. Just like the rest of the world. Their pride. Having carried them. Beyond reasoning of Humanity. That one of their flesh and blood. Is seen lesser than the fly. That lands on the kitchen.

But sometimes. Even man becomes weak. And day after day. The constant. Invisible whips. Those from the tongue. (For they are the most painful). Those whips. Make him different. And within him. Like a virus. Slowly spreading. Is a flame. A flame of fume and fury.

The house is noisy. It might never get quiet. For three keep shouts at the ceiling. One trying to protect his sanity.

Two trying to break him apart.