Leo hunched over with his head in his knees beside his bed. He looked up and stared at his mum's picture on the wall. His mum was smiling in the picture. Then the memory he had of his mother came flashing by.
"Leo, stop playing around," his mum said with a smile as she watched five-year-old Leo run around with his toy.
"I made your favourite, pecan pie," his mum said with a wide smile, and Leo ran towards her. He hugged her, but since he was still small, he could only hug her lower body. Then he ran into the kitchen.
He remembered another past memory again.
"What are you painting, Leo?" his mum asked seven-year-old Leo.
"This is you, Dad and I," he said, pointing at each of the characters in the image.
"Wow, it looks pretty," she said sarcastically as she looked at the rough painting.
Appleford came and looked at the painting and almost laughed out loud, but Mrs Appleford signalled to him.
"I didn't know my feet were bigger than Bigfoot's at all," Appleford said, holding his laughter.
Appleford's face looked like squeezed tomatoes as he tried to hold his laughter, but as he stared at the painting for a long time, he laughed out loud. Mrs Appleford quickly walked over to Appleford's side and covered his mouth.
Appleford stopped laughing and gave his wife a peck on the cheek.
"Stop! Leo is here," she said, and Leo started crying.
Mrs Appleford pushed Appleford with a frown on her face. Then she rushed over to Leo's side and hugged him as she comforted him. Appleford too joined the hug.
Then his worst memory came.
In the night, flashlights were shone around the house and several footsteps were heard. Behind the flashlights were people with guns. They pointed the flashlights at Leo, who looked confused. Immediately, Mrs Appleford covered Leo—and she was shot from behind. She looked at Leo, smiled briefly, then died.
Leo came back to reality and tears rushed down his cheeks.
"Why didn't I die with you back then? Why didn't they kill me back then?" he asked aloud with a teary voice. "I hate this life," Leo said and punched the drawer beside him. His fist was scratched, but he didn't feel a thing and kept on crying.