Oh, Hello

Hello My Old Heart

"No, please, dad, I-I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I pr-promise! I-"

Tommy felt hands wrap around his throat, slowly constricting his only air supply. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Tommy. You messed up, so you get punished. I can't have an unruly son, now can I?"

Dream smiled from his place above the blond 'teen'. He wasn't even fifteen yet, and here he was, begging his father to spare his life for missing one spot in the kitchen. "I did-didn' mean to! I p'omise!"

The hands pushed down harder and harder, and soon enough, Tommy couldn't breathe at all. The child clawed at the large hands, wriggling weakly in his place. He desperately clung to his life. He wanted to live! He wanted to see the sunrise again! He wanted to see the stars and name a constellation after him! He wanted to make a friend and have a sleepover and be a kid for the first time in his whole life!

Tommy didn't want to die.

And then he woke up.

Tommy gasped as he shot up from his place on the floor. It was cold, and the blond couldn't help but shudder as a soft sob forced its way from his chest. He had never wanted to relive that day, and yet it haunted his dreams. Every time he closes his eyes, he can feel the way that long, jagged nails dug into his skin. Every time he takes a breath, he can hear a distant whistle from the way his vocal cords hadn't healed correctly. Every time he whispered, he held back tears as his voice was barely recognizable.

His father had hurt him many times before, though, so getting over this hurdle would be nothing.

The boy shakily stood up, the bruises on his knees causing him to wince and give out a quiet whine. Dream had been nice enough to let him off with a warning, nothing more than a few punches and a cut that would become a badass scar in a few weeks. His hands would shake as he cleans the apartment, but it was nothing he hadn't done before.

As Tommy walked out of his closet-sized room, he glanced into the kitchen. It was almost noon, so Dream was already out of the house. He was either at work or taking a day off and spending all his money at the bar. Dream had always told him how selfish he was, living off of Dream like a baby. Tommy, of course, does all he can to prove his father otherwise. Cleaning up every room after he wakes up, making dinner for Dream, stocking up on alcohol and cigarettes whenever they run low. Tommy was a big man who could fend for himself, thank you very much!

But that didn't stop Dream from coming at him in a drunken haze. That didn't stop Dream from beating him until he could barely breathe. That didn't stop Dream from smashing half-filled bottles of beer over his head. That didn't stop Dream from choking him until he felt as though he would die.

That didn't stop Dream at all.

But that wouldn't stop Tommy from hoping. He still hoped that he could escape this all. He still hoped that Dream would stop, realize his mistakes, and apologize. He still hoped that Dream would be his father again. He still hoped that he'd live long enough to see the stars and touch the clouds on his own.

Tommy wanted to live and breathe and die on his own, not with the help of his father.

As hours passed by, Tommy continued to clean. He bleached the bathroom, he wiped down all the counters and the table that Dream ate off of, he hand washed the dishes twice, and he swept and mopped the floor all before he started making dinner. The fourteen-year-old ignored the hunger that gnawed at his stomach. He could eat later after Dream got home and ate and went to sleep. Hell, maybe Dream would let him off with a few bruises so that he could stand!

The front door opened and closed with a loud bang, causing Tommy to jump. Turning, the child gave his father a large grin, moving to the side to show off the dinner he had prepared for the man. Tommy was pleased to find out Dream was in a good mood, and he leaned into the hand that ruffled through his hair. "Thanks for the dinner, kid! How about you grab a plate and come sit with me?"

Tommy felt as though his world had just exploded. Dream was asking to eat dinner together again! Tommy giggled brightly as he grabbed two plates from the right cabinet above the sink. "How much would you like, dad?"

Dream hummed softly as he set down his work back, sitting heavily at the table before looking back at his son. "I'll take about a scoop and a half, okay?"

Tommy nodded, standing on his tiptoes to reach the stove properly. He dished out the amount that Dream had asked for and then gave himself just over half a scoop. Bringing the plates to the table, Tommy let his legs swing gently as they ate quietly. Dream was in a good mood, and that meant that Tommy was in a good mood.

But nothing ever stayed the same.

It all started when Dream took notice of a small scratch on the table. "Hey, kid, what's this?"

He picked at the scratch as Tommy tried to think of an excuse. Figuring that it would be better to just tell the truth, he hung his head. "I-I was cleaning earlier this mornin', and I, uh, bumped into the table while I was carrying the broom. I tried to fix it, honest! But it-it wouldn't come out!"

His words became more and more rushed as he watched Dream's eyes darken. "So you ruined my perfectly good table? The table that I spent good money on, you just broke it?" Dream stood quickly, almost knocking the plates off of the polished wood. "You ungrateful brat! I do everything in this goddamn house to raise you, and this is how you repay me?! I should leave you out in the fucking street! I should beat your fucking ass and leave you for dead! Because God knows you're gonna treat me like your damn father!"

Tommy trembled, tears beginning to cascade down his cheeks. Dream was mad, and Dream being mad meant that Father was home. Tommy raised his arms to cover his face as one of Father's hands came down. Long, jagged nails dug into his skin as Tommy tried to fight the man before him, but nothing was working. Then Father began to pull him towards his closet-sized room, and Tommy felt dread fill his stomach.

Father wasn't going to beat him, Father was going to lock him away.

Tommy pulled at his arm, crying and begging for Father to stop, begging for Father to spare him. Tommy desperately fought as he was thrown to his floor, and clawed at the door when it had been closed and locked. Father stood before him, his blond hair looking almost brown in the darkness. Green eyes glowed brightly before Father smiled gently. "You know why I have to do this, don't you Tommy?" Father knelt down and cupped Tommy's tear-stained cheeks in his hands. "You know that my son is obedient, and obeys whatever I say. You don't do that, so I do this for your own good! Soon, you'll be my perfect little boy, and we can be a family again!"

Tommy sniffled, curling hesitantly into the touch. "I w-wan-na be a goo-d boy, papa."

Father smiled kindly, one of his hands leaving his son's cheek before it came back down with a loud smack. "Then you know that I'm doing this for your own good, my sunshine."

Before Father had even moved his foot to bring it down on his small chest, Tommy knew he wouldn't be walking tomorrow.