Mumma's Boy

There was only one thing going through his mind. Pain. Unending, torturous, ravaging pain. He had been hopeful till now of his life and future, but now, everything seemed dark.  He was lying on the floor, the broken pieces of glass were small, but big enough to tear through his black shirt and cut into his back, he had dropped on the floor in distress, and the glass hadn't hit his back immediately, no, it had cut in when he had risen off the floor and banged back onto it, now blood was oozing onto the floor, making his back red and wet. His hands flat on the floor, the back didn't pain anymore, to him it was quite numb. He had loved his mother, now she was gone.

As if this wasn't enough, she didn't die a natural death, she had been killed, by her brother. Her brother was a maniac, a psychopath, he wasn't fit to be among the sane. He had been sent to a psychiatric ward for rehabilitation. His mother, was the only one in his life he had. He had never seen his father, he had left them when he was 5, to die, maybe, what sort of person does that to a wife with a child, who had been trained to be housewife all her life by her family, due to the orthodox values put into them by their ancestors. She had brought him up single-handedly, no help from anyone in this world, she vowed to herself that she would make her son an IAS officer, now she was gone and he was alone.

He was very much in grief, he was confused, what to cry about? Whether because his mother was dead, or because he had no one now or because of the fact that she had been killed by someone you could not throw into court and put in jail for revenge. He didn't know what to do, he wanted to kill him.

***

6 Months Later

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The people in prison were afraid of this one guy, he was the only one there who was happy there, how could someone be happy in prison? Every night he used to laugh so loudly and shout out, "Thank you God, for this opportunity." He was crazy, he never used to talk to anyone, he had beaten up two of his cellmates just for fun. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed putting others in pain. He himself was covered in scars, he didn't have one eye. But that was not the only reason they were scared of him, there was a rumour among these people.

It was said that this guy had killed his mentally unfit uncle and shouted out loud, "Man, I'm enjoying this!" He was laughing while doing it, he had used a bat to hit him on the head, because of which he dropped down on the floor, then he had continued to land strike on his head, again and again and again, till his head was in pieces like the bat, the skull was crushed and the brain was oozing out of the head like sprite from a smashed cane. Then he lifted his uncle up by the feet and made sure all of the brain had oozed out of his head and shouted, "Now you truly have no brains, hahahahaha!" Blood on his face and brains in his hand, he continued to laugh until the police bound and gagged him.

He was about to be declared mentally unfit and sent to the mental hospital. But until then he was in jail, away from civilians and with the prisoners, a potential death threat.

He was the son. No such madness has ever been seen in the history of the world.