Twenty Five Years Ago.
A nine year old boy sat on the bed while he watched his young mother get dressed up.
Their house was modest but not too poor. They appeared to have belonged to the second class in the social ladder.
"Mommy, I'm hungry" the little boy said as he watched her.
His trousers were tight on him and jumpy. It wasn't his size anymore but he still wore it, his height hadn't reached the top of his wardrobe shelve and so he wore that which his hand could touch at the moment.
"Mommy...." He called again as there was no response to his request the first time.
"Ohh Charles can you keep quiet? You're always noisy and to never let me have fun. I'm not the only woman with a child, why do you want me to look older than my age because I birthed you?" She snapped at him sharply as she turned to face him, sparing a bit of her time.
