The coldness of the metal stool on which he stepped on, made Krys Medardo flinch. As if it was asking him if he was sure of his thoughts.

Thoughts that are dark and evil. His mind was like a piggy bank, and problems were his coins.

His fondest childhood memory was of his Dad beating him for every mistake he has done. Even the littlest mistake doesn’t escape his Dad’s wrath. His Mom can’t do nothing to help him.

This is where it all turned into a domino effect.

His grades at school were also victims of his unhealthy family life. Classmates were either indifferent or bullies. It was funny how he even graduated from highschool. It was as if the teachers were sadists concucting a social experiment. Like children burning ants under a magnifying glass.

As if those were not enought suffering, his Dad decided to train him as the heir to their family business. Sadly he was not a big fan of machineries and all that engineering stuff. The beatings were replaced with bad-mouthing when he made mistakes. Sometimes he would wish for the beatings over the bad-mouthings. For him physical injuries were most likely to heal faster than wounds caused by hurtful words.

As all of these flashed back in his mind, tears fell from his eyes. And the cold metal stool under his feet was replaced by air. Peaceful air.