He comes home from school
on the weekends –
to the home he doesn’t really belong in.
He dumps his bag of used clothes on the floor,
throws his case gently into a corner,
removes his dulled shoes,
collapses on the bed
and cries silently into the pillow.

He is woken by screaming:
his mother –
telling him to work harder
and blabbering off a list of weekend duties.

His eyes are red.
His heart is bruised.
His life is not his until he leaves this hell.