Untouched

Christofer

Oli and I walked back to my home, a large gap seperating us.

He confessed he loved me, and the words I desperately wanted to say formed in my mind.

I love you too

I was clear in my mind, but my I couldn’t get my voice to express the words.

So I gave up before I made my self look like an idiot.

“Want to go home?” he asked softly as we walked through my neighborhood.

“Y-yea.”

He didn’t say anything, just making the gap between us more larger.

I wanted to throw my self at him, and enlope him in hugs and kisses whispering that I love him too.

But I couldn’t and I don’t even know why.

“Here we are.” Oli mumbled stopping at my front gate.

I bite my bottom lip and looked down to the ground, “O-oli.” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

I opened my mouth, ready to speak the words, but nothing came out!

It frustrated me to the point of insanity.

“B-bye.” I mumbled and walked off.



Why must I be so odd?

Why can’t I tell Oli that I love him too?

What is wrong with me?

“Christofer!”

I jump up from my bed at the sound of my fahter’s voice.

Fuck, Fuck Fuck.

I stand in the center of my room awkwardly, waiting for my dad to enter.

“Christofer!” he roars entering my room, breaking the door down.

I knew that door wouldn’t last any longer.

“Your Fucking Mother Called Again.” He screamed.

I really wanted to smile, but he would only get more furious.

“She Wants You Back.”

How could I not smile at that? That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.

“I Don’t Like That Bitch And She Will Not Get You!”

My inward smile burns into ashes.

Of course my dad wouldn’t give me up, he would much rather have me dead than living with my mom.

I couldn’t respond, my father was just venting to me.

If I put my input, he’d only hit me worse.

“Do You Want To Live With Her?” My dad screams, punching me square in the jaw.

I whimper and fall back onto the hard floor.

I look up, “No.”

He begins to laugh and pulls me back up to my feet, “That’s What I Thought.”

With that he beings the horrible beating, but it’s different this time.

It’s worse.

Every punch hurts more than it should.

Every slap stings more than it should.

Every drunken comment breaks me inside than it should.

“Dad.” I whisper as he pounds a bat into my side. “Please stop.” I plead.

I never tried to plead for him to stop, that’s always been a silly thing to do.

If I beg, it shows weakness and my dad hates weakness.

I hate weakness.

But this, what my father is doing to me shouldn’t be hurting me as much as it is.

“Don’t Beg, It’s Pathetic.” He screams hitting me harder.

“You’re pathetic.” I mumbled under my breath.

But it’s heard, “What Did You Say?” He yells throwing me against a wall.

I felt the tears brimming my eyes, “I Called You Pathetic!” I scream as the tears flow from my eyes.

He stares at me, his face looking as though it’s shocked but wants to be mad.

“You’re Not A Father. Your Are A Monster.” I yell pushing him aside.

I limp toward my closet and grab my clothes, stuffing them in a little duffle bag.

“What Do You Think You’re Doing?”
“I’m leaving.” I mumbled grabbing my shoes and slipping them on. “I don’t need to be here anymore.”

My dad’s face morphs into pure anger as he stomps toward me, pulling me up by my shirt.

“You will stay here.” He hisses.

I shake my head, “No.”

That was enough to push him off the edge because he throws me down again and begins to beat me up more.

And it hurts more than it did a few mintues ago.

“Get Off Me.” I grunt trying to push him off my small body.

But he’s like a fucking giant, not even budging.

I desperately try to push him off, his body crushing mine.

I gasp for air, looking around for something to get him off.

All that I see is his bat, and that will work just fine.

I reach over and my finger’s curl over the bat, I bring it up and bash it against his head.

He yells and rolls off me, gripping at his head.

I quickly jump up, ignoring the pain that ripples throughout my whole body.

I run out the room, out the house.

Not looking back, not listening to anyone or anything.

All I can do is run.

One place in my mind, and one place only.



I bang on the door, who even know’s if anyone is here.

But I don’t care, I need help, and I need it now.

“Help!” I cry through the door, banging my small fist against it.

But no one is opening the door, and this fustrates me.

“Open, Oli!”I yell.

Finally the door swing open and I rush into the house, slamming the door beind me.

“What? Christofer?”

I glance up to Oli, he stares at me with confusion.

I quikcly rush into his arms sobbing into his chest.

The pain runs through my body, it’s unbearable.

“It h-hurts.” I sob.

“What hurts?” Oli ask petting the top of my head.

“Everything.”

Oli pulls away and reaches out and flicks the light on.

“Fuck, Christofer.” He gasp staring at me, his eyes wide with horror.

“W-what?” I ask.

“I’m taking you to the hospital. Right now.” He says grabbing his coat off the coat rack by the door.

“But, I’m o-ok.” I protest.

Oli slowly reaches for the hem of my shirt, lifting it ever so slowly.

He gasp at the sight of my chest, “This doesn’t hurt, Christofer? Lets go now.” He says grabbing my wrist.

“I can’t.” I mumbled and stay put.

“Why, Christofer tell me why.”

“They’ll see everything.”

“What?” it’s clear he is confused.

“The Scar’s Oli,” I yell. “They’ll see them.” I add more quietly.

“You need help right now, your ribs could be gabbing into your lungs or something.”

“I don’t care.” I protest.

Oli is clearly impaitent, “Fine then,” He says. “Tom!”

Not only seconds later Tom appears.

“What’s up.” He says staring at us. “Hey Chris.” He greets happyily.

“Help me take Christofer to the hospital.”

Tom looks confused now, “What happened.”

“He won’t say, just help me out.”

Tom nods and comes to me, grabbing my arm he literally drags me out to Oli’s car.

Tom is very strong.

“No! Take Me Back.” I scream, kicking and fighting back as though I was a child in the middle of a trantrum.

“If Oli says you’re hurt, then you’re hurt. Lets go.”



I laid in a hospital bed as we waited patiently for the doctor to come and tell me what’s wrong with me.

Oli and Tom sat in some seat’s near my bed, flipping through medical magzines.

I was laying in the bed, my insides killing me.

“Chirstofer?”

I glance up to Oli, trying to hide the pain that I was feeling.

“What?” I asked.

“What happened?”

I shifted in the stiff bed and pulled the cover up to my chin, “It was n-nothing.”

“It was something.” Oli sighed.

I didn’t reply to that, I had nothing to say. Of course one day I will tell Oli what happened, but I don’t know what will happen.

I could be sent to a foster home, never to see Oli again.

The doctor entered, holding his clipbaord in his hands.”Hello Mr.Ingle.” He greeted.

“H-hi.” I mumbled.

“You seem to be okay, just a broken rib. I suggest a lot of rest for it to heal properly.”

I nodded and looked to Oli.

“Tell me something,” the doctor said taking a seat. “How did this happen, you seem to be severly brusied.”

I looked down to my hands, gripping the white cotton bed sheets.

Maybe I should tell everyone what happened, it is the right thing right?

“Umm..its w-was m-my dad.” I mumble.

“Has this happened before?”

I nodded and tried to hold the tears back.

“So this a case of child abuse, I’ll report it for you.”

I watched as the doctor walked away, my gaze shifted over to Oli and Tom.

“You ok?” Oli asked.

“A-are you o-ok?”

He nodded, “You will be living with me for now on.”