The ClosetWolfgang knew his father's past. It wasn't talked about much, but when it was, saliva dripped from Wolfgang's mouth and he swallowed it in fear. His past scared him, so much once that as he listened, a small puddle began to form around his left leg. His father had never hit him or anything. His friends, they all got the belt, a slap on the butt. Wolfgang tried to explain these stories to them, but they all thought it was easy. The stories were about a child, an indescribable child. Wolfgang guessed it was supposed to be his father. The stories used the same idea, that of a naughty child and punished for it. But these weren't butt-smacking punishments like all the other kids. They were children locked in basements for rats to eat, sold on the streets to dirty men, things to such an extent that only a grotesque mind could imagine such horror. But when Wolfgang was really threatening or his father was drunk, he would tell the story of the story. child in the closet. The child in the closet scared Wolfgang so much that he didn't dare go near it. Night had fallen and the dealers were out just after dusk, so Wolfgang moved his toys away from the corner and up the stairs to the apartment. As his little twelve-year-old legs climbed the steps, he had to pass the tramps who were lying cold on the steps with their bottles of alcohol. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he passed a dealer who was late and headed towards his house. As Wolfgang reached the door, it opened almost ripping his arm off. “What do you think you’re doing so late?” It was his father, drunk again. “Get your ass over here!” » He grabbed Wolfgang by the ear and pulled him towards him. “Do you know what that used to be like for me when I was a kid?” » he asked. “Not the closet, please no.” Wolfgang begged him. He didn't want to hear it again, or ever again. "Oh, do you want to hear about the kid in the closet?" he took the time to say it easily and so much so that it scared Wolfgang so much that he started begging. “No, no, please, please, don’t do anything, whip me like the other boys, anything.” He couldn't hold back his tears. Wolfgang's cries only made the scene worse and his father came to pick him up..