It was getting dark, the beginning of a storm looming over the city. In Katka's bedroom on the second floor, overlooking the street below, she glanced up from her sketchpad at Kitt. He shifted uncomfortably and moaned "You say sketch would be quick-" Katka put a finger to her lips and grinned, sticking her tongue out slightly as she concentrated on her sketchpad "You cant rush art Kitt... Anyway, you said you wanted to see my sketches."
Kitt shrugged "I was just surprised you drew art." With a grin Katka chewed on the end of her pencil "Surprised? Well, its finished now." She turned the sketchpad around and showed Kitt. He grinned. The sketch was good, though he supposed he wasn't much of a critic, life on a farm didnt really give you much experience with fine art.
Suddenly the downstairs door slammed loudly. Katka dropped her sketchpad, eyes wide with fear as the pad clattered to the floor. She mouthed silently "Dad's back..."
The pair walked downstairs slowly. Muffled curses and the sounds of someone stumbling came from in the living room, and when they entered it by the small staircase Katka's dad was leaning against the fireplace. He stared at them wildly "You flea-ridden mongrel... What are you doing with MY daughter?"
Kitt made to back away, but the man advanced. Even from across the room they could smell the spirits on his breath "And you!" He pointed suddenly to Katka and took another step closer, raising his fist "Your mother and I where happy! We had everything!" he swung and smacked her across the cheek, stumbled, and moved to attack again "Why did you have to be born! We didnt want you!" Katka quailed under the onslaught, backed up against the stairs. He struck again, drawing blood, rising up above her.
"Get off her!" Kitt shouted in a moment of bravado, and new-found anger. He barged into Katka's father, shoulder meeting surprised flesh with a dull thud. The man stumbled backwards drunkenly and his head met the stone fireplace with a loud crack. Kitt stood panting, breath drawing hard and ragged. A thin spattering of blood flecked the fireplace and oozed out from where the man lay, silent and unmoving. What had he done?