“No, Ezekiel. That’s not right,” Aaliyah said with alarm ringing in her voice out of sheer desperation of a mother trying to make her child see sense. It was no longer ridiculous that her son was about the same age as her – the connection they felt was too deep to be anything other than the authentic relationship.
“I can’t help it,” he retaliated angrily. “It’s all I want. It’s all I will ever want even if it destroys me. I was only three when he locked me up in a six-feet by nine-inch prison. Do you know how it was for me to endure all that abuse? Do you even know how much grit it required of me to stay alive under the circumstances?”
“I can imagine,” she shuddered violently at the mere thought that a father could have inflicted to many atrocities to his own son. “But harboring resentm
