Her screaming continued from the next room, dominated only by the shouts from the man.

Their noise pierced the boy's soul and tore him apart as he rocked back and forth sobbing, long since giving up trying to block the sound out with his hands.

Another bang.

Another scream.

Tenderly, he reached up and felt the heat from the bruise on the side of his own face, wincing at the memory of its creation.

Everything had happened so fast this time. Usually you could see it coming, read the signs, smell the whiskey.

Not this time though, this time it had just blown up out of thin air.

He desperately wanted to reach out and tell somebody, anybody. He had so much to say, so much to tell.

What would be the use though? Nobody would listen, no one would hear, nobody would care. There was only one way this was ever going to stop; only one way to be heard.

Carefully, and so very quietly, he tied the belt to the post, slipping the other looped end over his head.

Tightly gripping Pooh Bear for support, he threw his young body off the top bunk and his message was sent.

In the morning, with her latest conquest long gone, his hung-over mother would come in to yet again blame him for her failed one night stand and abusive behaviour.

Only this time she would hear his pain.

This time she would listen.

This time she would care.