A young Adam rested under the oak tree, leaning his back against the trunk and taking shelter under it.
It was a warm sunny day, and the shade under the oak tree felt especially refreshing. However, there wasn't a pleasant expression on the boy's face.
He hugged his bruised knees, bringing them close to his chest, and silently sobbed. As pearls of tears trickled down his cheeks, he mumbled, "Why won't they let me play?"
The young boy wiped his tears, but more fell. "They're so mean!"
Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He panicked as he knew that his mother was coming.
He quickly wiped the tears and snot away and pretended to sleep.
Adam's mother, wearing a long and loose-fitting gown that reached to her knees, walked towards him with her hands hidden behind her back.
Her expression suddenly shifted when she noticed the fresh bruises on her son's elbows and knees, as well as his swollen right cheek and reddened ear.
