Comfort in Silence // dnf

Liquor Bottle

//-// TW: Graphic Content //-//

Sirens.

Helicopter.

Bright Lights.

"Quick, get him into surgery now!"

Breaking through doors.

The smell of a hospital.

_______

Clay woke up. He was wrapped in thick blue covers. He could hear the faint yelling coming from downstairs. He pushed the covers off of himself and carefully stepped to his door. His cat followed. 

It wasn't Patches. But instead his cat that had died years ago. Yet here he was, right by Clays side.

He opened the door just a crack to listen to what was going on. 

It was his dad.

His sleepy eyes widened with shock. He felt the need to investigate, and he did so with caution. He walked to the banister, and the yelling became more clear. His mom was yelling too, her shrieks were now more discernable. His baby sister was crying in the other room, and he could see his older sister peeking her head out of the door.

She looked scared, and shook her head in hopes to get her little brother to go back to his room and ignore the fight. He didn't listen.

He never listened. 

He tip toed down the stairs, as if he was trying to catch a glimpse of Santa on Christmas morning. Except he was too old for Santa, and this was far scarier. 

Correction: this was terrifying .

Especially for a physically and emotionally abused 13 year old.

Once he made it downstairs he saw his parents in the kitchen. His dad was pointing aggressively with an empty liquor bottle in hand. His mom was backed up against the counter, fear in her eyes. 

Clay watched silently. He didn't dare get in front of his fathers right hook, something he had been the recipient of far too many times. 

He watched in terror as the fight went on, escalating far beyond anything Clay had witnessed. His dad raised the bottle high, and brought it down upon his mothers head. The bottle shattered, and his mother fell to the floor. 

His father then headed towards the door, which was also where Clay was stood, frozen in place. His mom was on the floor bleeding. What was he supposed to do. 

"D-Dad?" He asked as the man approached. His fathers eyes pointed in his direction, shooting daggers. "You little brat. I told you only to speak when spoken too! Don't you dare ever say anything again!" Clay was shoved down onto the wall and he sat looking up at his dad. Petrified and shaking viciously out of fear.

His dads words seemed to imprint themselves into his brains coding as he took them to heart.

He watched as his dad slammed the door and took off in the car.

_______

Clay woke up, startled yet calm. 

His head was pounding, and the lights didn't help. 

He lifted his head to get a better look at his surroundings, and he could feel the ache in the back of his neck. He looked around the empty white rooms, his eyes wouldn't focus, everything was blurry. He could barely make out the whiteboard with his name on it.