He was abusive, vile, immoral, and he claimed, though I never believed it, to be my father.It often shocked me that only seconds after delivering a se...mon on tolerance and forgiveness, he would beat me unmercifully for sweeping in the wrong direction. Or the night after proclaiming that the parents of a gay boy had failed their child, he forced me to do things that were unnatural. But this bastard would never hurt anyone again. My last few blows felt more as if I was slamming my fist into a. I groaned as the breath went out of me and felt nauseous. "What...what are you doing?" I cried, when I was able to catch my breath. I was panicking, and not even trying to control it this time. "Sshh," my wife said, smoothing my hair back like a mother comforting a c***d. "Enjoy it. While you can."Before they turned off the light and left me there, my wife and her lover stood by the side of the chair where I lay and looked down at my quivering, bound body. Unbelievably, I was shivering to. Then she smiled and said:‘Why don’t you come inside? You can call the locksmith and wait here until he comes. You never now, it could talk some time before he arrives’.‘Thank you, that’s very nice of you’.‘Please come in,’ she said and I followed her into her apartment. I walked behind her and enjoined every move she made.Her apartment was amazing. Like walking into another time. Like the fifties. Only the TV and the DVD told me that this was not the fifties. She offered me to sit on the couch.. Everything was just how I remembered it. Family pictures of Sarah and I, magazines we use to read scattered on the coffee table, even our slippers next to our side of the bed. Feeling a heaviness in my chest as I entered each room.“Hello is there anyone there.” It was the ladies voice from upstairs.At the front door, standing there was my neighbour from upstairs. Peeking inside, in her hand a cup of something hot, maybe tea. After a five-hour drive, my first thought was just what I needed a cup.
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