You and Chan have been married for about eight years. It just so happened that you were stupid and inexperienced, so you got pregnant at eighteen. Now you have a son, his name is Juju, and he is eight years old. Juju is the most incredible child you could ever wish for. He is a kind, obedient, sympathetic and gentle boy. He loves spending time with you, he likes the stars and the sun.

There were never any problems in your family, except for one. When Juju was a year and a half old, you and Chan had a serious conflict, and then you found out that he had cheated on you. You were in terrible pain, but you swallowed it and left everything as it was. You wanted a better future for your son, so you stayed. Chan begged you for forgiveness: gifts, dates, cars, whatever. You said you forgave him, but he knows you'll never stop hurting.

Today Juju came home from school with homework: to draw his family and explain why he used a particular color pencil when drawing.

"Hey, love, I'm drawing you pink because you look as sweet as cotton candy," giggles Chan, holding up a pink crayon to show it to you. Juju giggles quietly and draws a sun and clouds on a piece of paper while Chan draws your silhouette.

"Why are you drawing me with a black pencil?" Chan asks.