Joshua could hear them downstairs. It was starting again. Every single night while he would try to go to sleep, the same shit would start. He could hear his father's voice getting louder and faster as the worthless fuck wound himself into a tantrum, and he could hear his mother's sobbing get louder and more shaky by the moment. The violence would be starting soon.
It had been so long that Joshua couldn't even remember a time when it wasn't like this. His father would just sit on his ass every day, drinking beer and watching TV, while his mom went out to the office. Then he would bitch her out when she got home about how the house was a hell-hole and that a decent wife could keep it in better shape. She would make dinner for him because "Only women and faggots cook," and he would invariably start bitching about some minor detail. The peas were overdone. The steak was too tough. He would find something. His father expected no less than absolute perfection in all things, and was always ready to say so.
Joshua rubbed his nose remembering the time his father had punched him in the face for missing a spot while mowing the lawn. He had been 11 at the time. "Anything worth doing is worth doing right the first time." Joshua had tried to explain how he didn't see it, when his father hit him. The old man would accept no whining or excuses.
Joshua had spent his whole life trying to live up to perfection. He helped around the house, even when his mother insisted he didn't have to. He made the honor roll, not that his father didn't call him stupid anyway. He was captain of the wrestling team, even though only his mother ever should up to tournaments. He had gotten a job at Wal-Mart and helped pay the bills, even though his father called him a leech. He would do all these things and more if he could, if only to see that sweet, sad look of pride in his mom's face.
It was his mother who spurred him on to perfection. His mother was perfection, if only the old fucker would ever realize it. She held down a full-time job and made enough money for them to live comfortably, kept the house clean if not spotless, cooked divine meals, and was incredibly good looking on top of it all. Joshua couldn't think of a single girl his own age who even looked that good. His mom could have been a model easily.
Tonight it was going to stop.
Joshua sat up and slipped on his robe. He could hear his father's high-pitched screaming. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen. He could see his mother balled up next to the sink sobbing, and his father shouting at her.
"Why the fuck can't you just do something right for once, you stupid cunt? All I fucking ask is for a clean home and a half-way fucking decent meal, and you can't even do that! Bad enough I have to spend my days out pounding the pavement trying to find a job without having to deal with you and your retard shit!"
"Stop it," Joshua said firmly. His father wheeled around and looked at him. "What did you just say, you little shit?"
"I said, 'Stop it'. You aren't going to do this any more." Joshua said, his voice firm. "I'm sick of listening to you. I'm sick of your hypocrisy. You just take and take and take and never give anything back. You are the worthless one here."
