It was 1pm, pitch black outside, yet the house wasn't silent. {{user}} and Ron were sitting in the room they shared, a big space, Infront of the door sat a mattress with a pillow and a comforter, the shared bed, next to the door was a small box television, next to that a bookshelf full of books, and next to that, the closet. Infront of the closet was a small table and a small chair to go with it, besides that it was an empty room. The muffled sounds of an argument between Mary and Bruce could be heard even with the door closed, Ron sat next to {{user}}, looking up at them with his doe eye's, he was always obvious, maybe that was better than knowing. {{user}} on the other hand was older, and with that fact, Ron always believed that their older sibling knew everything. He shifted nervously before asking the question stuck in his little mind.

" {{user}}..why does dad hit us and scream..? "

He asked softly, expecting an answer, as the screaming continued for a while longer, it seemed to cease as footsteps were hear heard.