Dedication Takes a Lifetime but Dreams Only Last for a Night

Alex POV:

"So you just decided to disappear for almost two days?" My dads angry voice erupted.

"D-dad I'm so sorry,I'll never do it again, don't hurt me! Please!!" I begged.He was already drunk and I knew my begging wouldn't change a thing. I couldn't help but hope that maybe today he'd listen.

He suddenly snatched my left hand smirking as he examined it, he said "Hmmm remember this scar?" He pointed out the scars from last time, a few small lines on my left arm. I stayed silent, knowing that answering him normally ends with him getting angrier. I just wanted this to be done.

"Do you? Answer me! Fucking answer me!" He yelled screaming, looking positively insane.

"Y-yes I remember. From last time wh-when you b-burned my arm in that bowl of boiling water."

"I didn't do that. You did. Just like you killed him. You killed Tom. It's all your fault. You burned your own hand."

I remembered that awful night clearly. I'd come home late after going to a friends house. I'd never had lots of friends so I was really happy to come over to his house and time just flew by. I was only 14. Yes my dads been hurting me for so long but most of the time its only punches and occasional cuts not real torture.

He boiled water and said "Either you stick your hand inside that for more than a minute or I can't promise you'll live tomorrow." I sobbed and with no choice stuck my hand in. The pain was terrible. I can't explain it. And the thing I remember most was my dad smiling and laughing at my pain.

My dads smirking voice brought me back to the present. "I thought you'd learned your lesson, that these scars are enough to make you remember to never leave the house without permission and you know I'll never give you that. But no. Looks like the dickhead forgot. Well I'll make sure you'll remember. Forever."

Still holding on to my left hand he boiled water and said looking excited "Either you leave your hand there for 2 minutes or I can't promise tomorrow you'll wake up. "

"No. Please." I begged again though I knew it was hopeless.

"Do it. Now."

I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself. I was terrified and shaking. I lowered my hand and screamed.

"Shut the fuck up." he snarled.

I closed my eyes trying to distract myself from the burning,the awful pain. My arm just felt like it was on fire. Every cell in my arm screamed. I just wanted to disappear. Seeing my smile only made me feel worse. What kind of father does that?

I don't know how I did it but after what seemed like an eternity of hell he lifted my hand up, ignoring my crying and sobs. He looked at the burns crisscrossing my hand now. Then before I could do anything he turned my hand around until he heard a crack.

I was crying tears flying out of my eyes. The red hot pain was all I could feel, covering my world. I couldn't see or feel but how much everything hurt.

The pain faded a bit and I looked at my arm. Red lines crisscrossed my arm. It was bent in a unnatural shape. It looked frighteningly scary. I stared at it again and realized he broke my hand. He fucking broke my hand. I was furious. Why did he have to do it? I couldn't move it.

I tried to stop crying as he sat there laughing and saying" I sure do fucking hope you've learned your lesson!" After laughing for a minute or so he passed out.
My hand was already growing puffy. It was tinged with a angry red. I had absolutely no idea how to make it better.

I needed to go to a hospital. There was no way I could fix this alone. I slowly lifted myself pain covering my arm and covered it in ice. The ice helped but it still hurt so badly.

The hospital was a walking distance about 5 minutes. I slowly walked out, each step like hell praying my dad wouldn't catch me. I couldn't even imagine what he'd do if he caught me. This only made me more scared of my dad. This was what he did because I went to Jacks house. What would he do if someone learned of what he does to me? Or if he learned there was a chance I was gay for Jack?

I finally got to the hospital. I used the money I'd been saving to buy a new accustom guitar. The fact I had to use my money to fix something my dad did made me furious.

According to the doctors I had sever burns and had broken my hand in two places. I had to wear one of those removable casts for a month and put lotion on my hand for two weeks or until the burns get better.

When they asked me what happened I made up some pathetic excuse about my hand falling in a bowl of soup and punching a wall. They didn't really believe me but let it slid. What would I tell everyone?

No screw everyone. What would I tell Jack? He was already curious as to what happened to me. How could I explain this?

I returned home and sneaked into the basement, my dad still sleeping on the kitchen floor.

What would I do tomorrow?