So the other day I thought I was pretty much alone in the house. My dad was upstairs sleeping, having an afternoon nap. I was poking around the kitchen, where I saw this new, ceramic jar on the counter. I opened it up, and saw these massive lumps of sugar. I took one of the sugar cubes, and looked at that pure, white mass of goodness. It was too good to resist. I popped one in my mouth, then another, and then another… there were none left. I stood there in absolute fear. I stood there, my legs were shaking, and my hands were covered in small granules of sugar.

“Johnny…”, I hear.

“Yes, Papa”, I reply. Fear was coursing through my body

“Have you been eating sugar?”

I was silent, which made him angry.

“Have you been fucking eating sugar, Johnny you little dipshit?”

“No… papa”, I answered.

Papa grabbed the jar, throwing it against the wall. He flipped the dining room table, knocking a bowl of fruit onto the floor. He pinned me against the cold, tiled kitchen wall. He brought his large sweaty face towards me, his eyes opened wide.

“Telling lies?”

Tears were streaming from my face. “No, papa”, I replied.

He slapped me, and pried my mouth open, forcing me to emit a ‘ha ha ha’ sound. He screamed at me, “JOHNNY IF SEE YOU EAT THAT FUCKING SUGAR AGAIN, I WILL STOMP YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS INTO THE ROAD, YOU HEAR ME?”

“Yes, papa”, I said, as he left the room.