My son killed me.

It was a normal morning. The kids were going to school, the adults were going to work, but Liam stayed home because he was on vacation. He was washing the dishes after breakfast, and his father, John, was also there, grumbling about his son.

John: "Liam, you are such a faggot! Your wife should be washing the dishes, every day. Do you really want to be a woman or what? If I could, I would beat you up right now, Liam! You were a brat and you still are.

Liam silently endured his aging father's antics, unable to respond, but... he noticed the glint of sunlight from the window, illuminating the knife lying on the sink. His hand slowly began to reach for it.