Whose fault is it?

As he looked back at you with his menacing eyes, you see agony and hatred, you heart saw the painful experiences he went through reflecting on those tears trickling down his face. You began blaming yourself, for your inappropriate form of teachings and care for your son throughout the years that saw him mature. Ultimately, whose fault is it?

He was so tiny and fragile the first time you saw him and you began to develop this acute sense of preventing harm from coming his way. His lovely smiles etched in the back of your head replacing any form of stress or unpleasantness.

You know that you only wanted the best for your kid so you worked for those hard earned cash as a hawker in the day and taxi driver by night in order to fund your son for his education. You hired a maid and sent him to child care while you worked. He begins getting used seeing the shadow of you leaving the house early in the morning from the corner of his eyes while lying on the bed and getting the cold pat on the shoulder when he shows you that little star on the piece of paper. Your work persists and your temperament grew thin and nights without quarrelling with your wife were seldom. You began questioning yourself.

Your son's studies were compromised as he finds no pride in his work. Eyes perceived him as a delinquent who will grow into nothing more than an average Joe. His friends were of no good and soon he joined their legacy of doom. There was no one that could stop him or care about him as he finds no one to listen or look after his actions. He finds emptiness at home and took the streets till the day turns night. He began to question himself.

The days passed, your health deteriorates. The school sends you a letter complaining of your son's behavior in school. You got devoured by violence and turn it towards your own son as your temperaments gave fuel to your actions. It was just the cane at first then your weapon of choice changed to the belt and you simply used your fist for convenience the next time round. Your hearts aches more than the pain that was instilled in your child. You question yourself as you hurt him and yourself even more. Fatigue hits you as this nights of torments occur even more frequent then you can ever imagine.

Your son is confused. He turns to his friend for guidance. They don't even know what they want.
He smokes. He skips school. Just to find for his friends who became one of his main reason for living. The pain you instilled in him became numb and soon hatred. His hatred grew and got a better of him during his last birthday that you've long forgotten due to your multiple work shifts. As you held up your fist to deliver a punch to him for yet another mistake, he shoves you away and retaliates with a punch. His tears trickled down his face, he looked back at you with his menacing eyes, you see agony and hatred, you heart saw the painful experiences he has been through and you question, whose fault is it?