Section One: Cracks in the Home
Time rewinds to over a decade ago, on an ordinary evening. The afterglow of the setting sun spilled across the streets of the small town, lights were lit in every household, and the aroma of dinner filled the air.
Bang sat at the dining table, head down, poking at the rice in his bowl, his ears filled with the sounds of his parents arguing. It wasn't the first time. Since he could remember, his parents' quarrels had been the most common background noise in their home. Initially, he would hide in a corner out of fear, covering his ears with his small hands, but now, he simply ate in silence, as if the war had nothing to do with him.
"All you know is to waste money outside all day!" his mother's roar made the grains of rice in his bowl tremble slightly.
"That's rich coming from you. Isn't the money I spend for this family?" his father's voice was equally full of anger. "Who told you to complain about not having enough money every day?!"
The clattering of bowls and chopsticks sounded, his mother angrily slammed down her spoon, while Bang's older brother, Sheng, and sister, Qin, were already used to this scene, not even changing their expressions.
"Can you two stop arguing..." Qin muttered softly, picking up her chopsticks and continuing to eat as if nothing had happened.
Bang looked at his brother, Sheng, who was five years older, but he nonchalantly picked up a piece of meat, chewing it disinterestedly. There was no anger in Sheng's eyes, only impatience.
His mother cried, bowing her head to wipe away her tears, while his father kicked the chair in anger and turned to leave the house. The door slammed shut, and the house fell silent.
Bang lowered his head, looking at his rice bowl; the rice had gone cold. His appetite had long been worn away by these quarrels.
Section Two: The Silent Eleven-Year-Old
Days passed like this, and Bang gradually got used to this life. The frequency of his parents' arguments increased, with at least one major quarrel every week, sometimes even involving throwing things.
He stopped being afraid and learned to be silent.
By the time he turned eleven, things hadn't improved; instead, they had gotten worse. His mother's temper became increasingly volatile, his father's patience dwindled, and his older brother, Sheng, began to rebel, often talking back to their father. Qin tried her best to ignore these things, always retreating to her room early.
"Brother, they're fighting again today..." Bang said softly, his little sister blinking, looking at him fearfully.
Bang patted her head, saying nothing, just sighing softly.
Home, once a warm place, had now become a suffocating cage.