A corner of a worn cricket poster fluttered as the ceiling fan slowly creaked away, failing miserably to drown out the voices beyond the door. Raiyan fidgeted with the cables of his earbuds that came free with a tube of toothpaste. Disentangling them did nothing to help the fact that the right ear wouldn't work.

WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYING, RABEYA?

Raiyan pushed in his earbuds, half hoping they'd start working and half hoping they'd muffle out the raised voices.

WHAT IS THERE TO UNDERSTAND? YOU ARE DESTROYING OUR LIVES!

Raiyan yanked off his ear buds and threw them onto the table that still had his math books open then switched off the fan. He padded towards the door, crouching down with his back against it.

I HAVE A LOT GOING ON. I NEED THIS RIGHT NOW AND...

"I am doing this for us," Ra iyan finished the sentence under his breath.

YOU THINK THIS

A pause.

...THIS HELPS US, ASHFAQ?

A scream cracked with frustration tore through the night, quickly followed by the crash and tinkle of glass breaking into a hundred different pieces on the floor.

WHAT THE HELL, RABEYA?! AND DOING THAT IS GOING TO HELP, YOU THINK?

This was usually when things got worse. Raiyan braced himself for what was about to come next. It's the same old cycle, the same old exercise — a loop that holds him prisoner.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT COST, YOU CRAZY       B—?

Raiyan fidgeted in his place the way one does when they feel as if they are taking up way too much space than they deserve. He hugged his knees, eyes shut. A stuttered sigh found its way out nonetheless.

IT COST US OUR MARRIAGE! AND WATCH WHAT YOU'RE SAYING TO ME!

Another sigh.

OH SO I HAVE TO WATCH WHAT I SAY NOW? IS THAT HOW IT IS? JUST 'CAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN PAYING RENT THE PAST FEW MONTHS, NOW I HAVE TO BE YOUR LITTLE SERVANT?

Each scream was a punch to his chest. Heaving, he got up to sit at his desk, just in case one of them decided to involve him. It wouldn't be the first time.

There was no reply from his mother this time.

SO? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO NOW? YOU LOVE IT WHEN I AM WEAK, DON'T YOU? YOU LOVE PUTTING ME DOWN FOR IT. OH, IS IT GONNA BE THE USUAL LECTURE BERATING ME FOR MY CHOICES? AM I GONNA BE THE VILLAIN AGAIN FOR TRYING MY BEST FOR YOU TWO?

Here it comes now. Raiyan's head was a whirlwind of thoughts as he tried to figure out what to say if his dad dragged him into the fight. What set of words would make them stop and be happy for once? He gulped down another sob.

"I can't cry. I can't be weak."

His dad's voice cut through the sobs again.

WELL? AREN'T YOU GONNA SAY ANYTHING?

There was a long pause. Fifteen seconds? Thirty seconds? Raiyan kept losing count as each noise, inside the house or outside, made him jump.

I just don't know what to do any longer, Ashfaq. I don't think I want this anymore…

Raiyan's eyes widened as his head shot up at his mother's voice.

"Please, no. Don't let it be that. Please, God. No. No, no, no, no..." Raiyan squealed into his arm.

What do you mean you don't want this?

The other nights weren't like this. They fought. They fought nearly every other day but this was the first time in a while that the angry voices threatened to be whispers.

And then the voices stopped.

Raiyan got up again and pressed his ear against the door. Eyes closed in concentration, all he heard was the sound of the house-help sweeping off the glass shards. There was a pause and then the sweeping resumed. Raiyan rushed to his table and decided to study although he was done with his homework hours before.

He just stared at the pages, unable to grab onto any thought for too long. What could he do? What will make them okay? What if he got really sick, maybe that would make them understand? What if he ran away? If only there was a way to make it all... everything... just stop.

"Baccha, won't you eat?"

Raiyan only took a split second to reply.

"Ji, ma."

"Homework shesh?" She was now running her fingers through Raiyan's head.

"Ji, ammu."

"So why are you still at your desk?"

"Just checking what will be in class tomorrow."

"Come, now. Do you want to go somewhere for dinner?"

Raiyan looked up and smiled at his mother.

"Chicken fry?"

Rabeya laughed as they both left the room. The house was back to the way it was when Raiyan came home from coaching. His dad was watching TV and drinking a glass of cola. The floor was squeaky clean but the air freshener, however, could not mask the damage.

Raiyan caught his mother staring at him and quickly shuffled to wear his shoes. He sighed in relief. Nothing changed. Hopefully.

Rumman R Kalam is the In-charge of SHOUT. Send him cat pictures [you took] via email at tehgoatlord@rantages.com