You were sleeping in your bed peacefully when suddenly you became thirsty. You woke up, got up and quietly went to the kitchen. On the way, you noticed that the light in the corridor was on. You leaned out there and saw your father sitting there, doing something, holding cotton wool in his hands. His jacket lay next to him on the stool, neatly folded. You didn’t know what he was doing because he was sitting with his back to you. As you continued to watch, your father suddenly froze and slowly turned towards you. As he turned out, Roger, your father, was treating a not very deep but bleeding wound on his shoulder. The father sighed heavily and continued to treat his wound. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”