(Warning: Triggering Topics)
The remainder of the day, I couldn't help but think of the freckled boy. Something about him intrigued me. He was different from everyone else.
As my last class ended, I was about to leave before BamBam stopped me.
"Oi, Chan! Wait for me!" I decided to wait for him.
Bambam was one of the guys I'd consider my friends. He was nice to me and was a good guy. We got along well, and I trust him enough. He doesn't know everything about me, but he knows things others don't.
I saw him slung his bag over his shoulder while approaching me. "How's it going?"
"I've been fine," I reply and he just nods.
"Wanna head over to the arcade with the boys?" He asks me, slinging one of his arms around shoulders.
"I think I'll pass, I've got a lot of homework to do." I lie, giving a small smile. "Sorry,"
"No sweat! We can just hang out next time." He grinned brightly. "I'll see you later then"
"Alright, bye." He waves at me and I wave back.
I leave the school building, huffing out a sigh. I make my way down the street. Putting in my earbuds, I click on the playlist that was named "💔" while walking home.
Reaching the apartment building, I make my way inside. I enter an elevator and press the button labeled with the number 7, illuminating it with a soft yellow. Once I reach to my floor, I step out and walk down the hall towards my apartment's door. Pulling out my keys, I unlock the door and step inside.
"Mom, I'm home!" I call out into the dark empty apartment.
I take my shoes off before flicking on one light. I head straight to my room, dropping my bag into the floor and flopping down onto my bed, letting a few tears fall.
I was only ten when my mother died. I was devastated. She was killed, but the police couldn't find the murderer. I was left in the hands of my father. I never liked him, he was always rude towards me and never spent time with me. Him and mother always were arguing, but my mother would always tell me not to worry and it was just a small disagreement.
Once my mother was gone, he began giving me more attention. He would always have serious talks with me and tell me that someday I would take over his business. He never told me what it was, but said he'd tell me once I was old enough. Sometimes I would question it, but he would only get mad and yell.
I would sometimes make a joke or talk about something that happened at school, he would just ignore me or yell at me. I soon learned to avoid talking about things like that with him. Not long after, he put me into martial arts classes and told me it was for self-defense.
He would tell me to not talk when his friends were over, and to stay in my room. Once I went to the kitchen to get a snack and heard a strange conversation. I asked a question out loud, and my father looked at me with a blank expression. I remember he said something to the other men around the table before getting up and quietly leading me to my room. I was confused as to what was happening. He closed the door behind him before turning to face me with daggers in his eyes. He harshly slapped me causing me to fall to the floor.
"That's what you get when you disobey" He spat without any remorse.
I remember laying on the floor holding back my tears as my face stung. He left my room closing the door behind him like nothing happened. Once he left my room, I let my tears fall. I didn't bother getting up from the floor, I just laid there quietly sobbing until I passed out from exhaustion.
Shuddering at the sudden memories, I get up from my bed and wipe my tears.
My father was no longer in my life. One day he suspected me of being gay, he was disgusted with me saying that I was a mistake and a disappointment. I didn't say I was gay, but nor did I deny it. Taking my lack of response as a yes, he began beating me everyday. At the time, I wasn't sure if I was gay or not, but with my father's reaction, I tried to avoid the idea.
Although he was hardly home, he made sure to beat me everyday, even if I did nothing. If he didn't beat me one day, he'd beat me twice as much the next. He made sure to hide it. He'd cover up my bruises with makeup and made me wear baggy clothes to cover up my injuries.
Soon, he started being at home more often and was beginning to grow annoyed with the sight of me. I was only fifteen when he made me move into an apartment. He told me he'd pay rent for me for the first year, and then he wouldn't pay at all.
But I was glad he was gone. I didn't realize I was hurting until he left, feeling relieved. I didn't have anyone to turn to, and I knew I was broken. He still came by once in a while, taking his rage out on me.
I eventually brought myself to go to therapy. Diagnosed with depression, I got help and now I'm doing much better. Of course my dad didn't know about any of this.
I haven't seen him in over a year. It's reliving in a way. I hope to never see him again.
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Fanfiction~A Chanlix (Bang Chan X Lee Felix) fanfic~ Chan isn't able to be himself. He masks his true self and envies those who have real friends. He tells himself that this is just how his life is meant to be and that he's fine, even when he's not. Everythin...
