Cold | Suicidal Todoroki

2 | Pain

This story is not intended to promote or encourage actions/behaviors such as suicide, self-harm, abuse, violence, harassment, or substance abuse.

Day 1

I feel like venting, but I don't want to bother anyone. Besides, I can't let them know the truth on accident. Today, I placed second at the sports festival. Not enough. I didn't win. All because I couldn't figure out what was right anymore. I didn't know what to do. I was confused. I gave up. It's frustrating. Very, very frustrating. I could've won. I could've won... I got home, and Endeavor was pissed. I was already exhausted, but if I come home late, it's an extended period of beatings for me. He'd kill me if he ever found this notebook. I'll have to keep it hidden.

I'm used to his beatings, but I still dread them. No matter how normal they are by now, I still wake up with the wounds he left and a wounded view of the future. I used to cry throughout his beatings because I was so frightened and in so much pain, but as time has gone on, it's been established that crying just prolongs the torture. I don't cry during the beatings anymore.

I came home from the sports festival and was greeted with a belt buckle to the collar bone. I can still remember the horrible sound. It's been echoing through my head all night long. It hurts like hell to move my arms because it moves my collar bone. Endeavor never tries to damage me in the places commonly seen, so my face is still intact, I guess. I'd rather have a face without a burn mark. I hate that burn. But he gradually pressed his full weight into his knee that was digging into my abdomen, and even when he started to add more force to it after putting in his full weight, he wasn't done. It felt like it lasted for hours. I wanted to scream. I did scream. That's how painful it was. It felt like I couldn't breathe, and my insides were throbbing and burning with this awful, excruciating pain that just got worse with every second that passed and every breath I took and every move either of us made.

When I screamed in agony, that bastard slammed his knee into my guts with his full weight crashing down on one specific area, and it made me vomit all over myself. It was rancid, but not an uncommon occurrence. Despite how many times I've been soaked by my own vomit, I never get used to it. Continuing to smell it and feel it all over my face and neck augmented the nausea. He kept doing it. I don't remember how many times he did it before I passed out.

It seems it runs in our blood to always come in second. Endeavor tells me that my beatings beat the mistakes out of me, but I feel like more of a mistake every time I'm beaten. But I guess it's my own fault for the fact that he beats me. I decided to disobey and resist him as much as possible, and he started beating me for that.

It hurts so much to move. My classmates have started to pick up on the limp I have, and the guys know I always change in a stall. It makes me anxious. I'm terrified of someone finding out. I can't tell anyone my dad abuses me. Besides... Who would believe that the number one hero beats his son? No one. But the constant anxiety every day from fearing that someone will press me on answering their questions about my well-being has made me very paranoid about every little detail. What do they see? Why are they looking at me? Did they notice? Do they know but won't say? Did that brief moment when my sleeves lifted from using my flames reveal the wounds? Who knows what? How much does everyone know? Are they talking about me to each other?

Am I losing my mind, or do my classmates know more about me than they're letting on?