Invading Hell with a heart full of Sin
One friend
Frank
Pain. I feel pain. Its spreading through my body like some kind of disease, messing with my senses. I want it to go away, but it keeps on coming, in shockingly strong waves. It's like that time I was at the ocean when I was six and I swam out to far, then the waves were pulling at me, sucking me into its depths. Yeah...that kind of wave. The kind you cant escape with out help.
"Frank get the fuck out of bed. I am not going to court again because you missed 'to many days of school', got it?" My mom pounds on my flimsy door, the only thing that seperates my crummy room from the rest of our trashy apartment. I groan, roll my face into my pillow. I can't get up. Not today. Not right now. Not after last night.
Flashes flare against my vision, the rainfall of shattered green glass, the slow rise of the floor, coming up to meet me. The grins of both my father and my mother. 'I'm sorry...Mommy, Daddy, just please don't hurt me again...' I think dejectedly, tears begining to drip into the grimy fabric of my pillow case.
"Did you hear me you retard! Do you want your Dad to come up here? Huh? Do you? Answer me you little bastard!" I can hear the grin in her voice. She want's to call my father up. She wants to see blood drip from every corner of my body. She want's to help make that happen. So I have to get up. Now.
"No Ma'am. I'm up." I whisper, knowing she can hear me. She could pretend she didn't but my parents only enjoy their beatings more when I'm clueless. If I know what their going to do, I have time to ready myself. To prepare the pitch of my screams, so that I don't wake the unsuspecting neighbors. To gaurd which parts of my body I don't want pulverized. That sorta thing.
"Well...just get up and get out of here. Fast." I hear her pad off down the hallway, the little march of her steps, fast paced and noisy, tells me shes annoyed that I didn't take the bait. But you learn with your mistakes I guess.
I stir, try to shift out of bed, but that doesn't really work. My body is too battered. Eventually though, I gather that negative three percent storage of energy I have and heave myself into a sitting position. I use what ever was left of that erroded energy to do my routin check.
'Arms broken? No. Legs? No. Ribs? Fractured rib, left side. Skull? Still hiding your brain. Bruises? Everywhere.' I stop probing my body and sigh. It's going to be hard covering all these, damn. They really went all out. I reach up to scratch the back of my head, which usually helps me think for some odd reason, and wince. The tips of my fingers come away red, and I remember that they hit me with a glass bottle. One that still held beer if I do remember correctly. Or maybe that was lastweeks? I dunno. They all blur together after awhile. Time to get dressed, I've been up here long enough I reckon.
I can hear Mom stomp around downstairs, banging pots and cups down in the sink and Dad's throwing a hissy fit over something in the paper, warning signs that a rerun of last night is about to occur if I don't leave right this instant.
I throw on clothes as fast as I can, only stopping to haphazardly throw everything from one backpack to another. I have to chang it up every now and again. Time seems to speed up, and I can hear them arguing about something or other. The second sign. Their about to explode, I can tell. They want me gone, because I'm an intruder on their happy little life. Always have been. I was the mistake that stayed with them, chased them down. Haunts them even to this day.
I grab the keys to my peice of shit car and jet down the stairs, not even pausing when my mother hurls curses at my back, nearly making me cry.
Well then..on to school..it shouldn't be so bad, at least I have one friend.
Pain. I feel pain. Its spreading through my body like some kind of disease, messing with my senses. I want it to go away, but it keeps on coming, in shockingly strong waves. It's like that time I was at the ocean when I was six and I swam out to far, then the waves were pulling at me, sucking me into its depths. Yeah...that kind of wave. The kind you cant escape with out help.
"Frank get the fuck out of bed. I am not going to court again because you missed 'to many days of school', got it?" My mom pounds on my flimsy door, the only thing that seperates my crummy room from the rest of our trashy apartment. I groan, roll my face into my pillow. I can't get up. Not today. Not right now. Not after last night.
Flashes flare against my vision, the rainfall of shattered green glass, the slow rise of the floor, coming up to meet me. The grins of both my father and my mother. 'I'm sorry...Mommy, Daddy, just please don't hurt me again...' I think dejectedly, tears begining to drip into the grimy fabric of my pillow case.
"Did you hear me you retard! Do you want your Dad to come up here? Huh? Do you? Answer me you little bastard!" I can hear the grin in her voice. She want's to call my father up. She wants to see blood drip from every corner of my body. She want's to help make that happen. So I have to get up. Now.
"No Ma'am. I'm up." I whisper, knowing she can hear me. She could pretend she didn't but my parents only enjoy their beatings more when I'm clueless. If I know what their going to do, I have time to ready myself. To prepare the pitch of my screams, so that I don't wake the unsuspecting neighbors. To gaurd which parts of my body I don't want pulverized. That sorta thing.
"Well...just get up and get out of here. Fast." I hear her pad off down the hallway, the little march of her steps, fast paced and noisy, tells me shes annoyed that I didn't take the bait. But you learn with your mistakes I guess.
I stir, try to shift out of bed, but that doesn't really work. My body is too battered. Eventually though, I gather that negative three percent storage of energy I have and heave myself into a sitting position. I use what ever was left of that erroded energy to do my routin check.
'Arms broken? No. Legs? No. Ribs? Fractured rib, left side. Skull? Still hiding your brain. Bruises? Everywhere.' I stop probing my body and sigh. It's going to be hard covering all these, damn. They really went all out. I reach up to scratch the back of my head, which usually helps me think for some odd reason, and wince. The tips of my fingers come away red, and I remember that they hit me with a glass bottle. One that still held beer if I do remember correctly. Or maybe that was lastweeks? I dunno. They all blur together after awhile. Time to get dressed, I've been up here long enough I reckon.
I can hear Mom stomp around downstairs, banging pots and cups down in the sink and Dad's throwing a hissy fit over something in the paper, warning signs that a rerun of last night is about to occur if I don't leave right this instant.
I throw on clothes as fast as I can, only stopping to haphazardly throw everything from one backpack to another. I have to chang it up every now and again. Time seems to speed up, and I can hear them arguing about something or other. The second sign. Their about to explode, I can tell. They want me gone, because I'm an intruder on their happy little life. Always have been. I was the mistake that stayed with them, chased them down. Haunts them even to this day.
I grab the keys to my peice of shit car and jet down the stairs, not even pausing when my mother hurls curses at my back, nearly making me cry.
Well then..on to school..it shouldn't be so bad, at least I have one friend.
♠ ♠ ♠
For XxDementedSoulsxX who is now the father of this chapter of my story. Congrats....This story is now pregnant...[xAnd I nearly cried writing that last line. I was so so so sad. But its critical so I had to.