Almost every night Lamont would hear low, unknown sounds within the blackness of his room.When these sounds occurred,he would cower underneath his double blankets,until they stopped.The sounds:a muffled,painful woeful noise.An uneasy suffering that would clinch his eight-year-old teeth.Lamont tried very hard to accept the dreadful noise,but to no avail.The tortured whimpering was too much.The noise long since penetrated his blanket refuge.The darkness of his room,even the whole house,for that matter,was as dense as a moonless forest.His father made sure that every light in the house was out,and whenever Lamont complained,his father responded,"Stop actin' like a little bitch!"His mother,docile,timid,content with her "baby-daddy" paying all the bills,would laugh a nervous,condescending laugh,only to quickly have it deleted from her weary face in mere seconds.But this night,the agonizing sounds bit into lamont's nerves,bit into his usual fear.His fright,this night,suddenly gave into the struggle of aggravation.Lamont felt the shaky numbness of his little fingers and toes become engorged with blood-filled energy.The muffled suffering of the unknown void began to taunt his anger.He reached between his twin-sized mattress and box spring and grabbed a small steak knife he smuggled in from the kitchen days ago,just in case the "noise" physically manifested itself.This night,he decided to venture out from the security of his bed and face this dark noise once and for all.A few steps from his bed Lamont felt a wave of fright splash across his little-boy body again,but he knew it was too late to turn back.Intense curiosity had set in.Through the blinding darkness he crept to where the terrible noise dwell.His kitchen blade tight in his grasp.Closer to he horrid sounds,Lamont felt a madness overtake him.In a hysterical rage,the eight-year-old leaped,weapon-ready,into the nucleus of the dark noise.Lamont's small steak knife sank into its mark.The low-suffering noise was interrupted by a high-pitched scream of pain.A scream of pain so loud,that Lamont's mother burst into his bedroom and switched on the high ceiling light.She found Lamont standing against his bed in stark surprise.His father sprawled across the floor,naked,wailing and bloody with a small steak knife lodged deep into the back of his burly neck.His father's huge body lay near the bed of his teary-eyed,ten-year-old half-brother.copyright2008f.h.powell
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