Andy sat in his room colouring a picture of the sky. The voices outside were getting louder and angrier.
He heard the first crash, that was probably Mum throwing a glass at Dad. A cracking sound of a whip echoed through the house, Dad had slapped Mum. More yells, foul language and breaking vessels were heard.
Andy’s fingers gripped the crayon tightly, as his hand moved furiously, covering the bright sky and fluffy white clouds in a blanket of black.
Several years later when the police found the bodies of his parents in the kitchen, a blood splattered Andy was seen sitting in his room, colouring the same picture over and over again.
At his school, Mrs. Hemsworth, Andy’s art teacher, held the drawing of a radiant blue sky and wisps of clouds obscured viciously by blotches of black, and wondered if there was something she could have done to save Andy from committing such a heinous act.