hey!! this chapter involves substance abuse and child abuse, look out for the *! there will be a summary of the section at the end of the chapter.
this chapter, like most if not all chapters, will include harsh/inappropriate language and should be read with that in mind! enjoy! :)
~Sal Fisher~
The burning sensation of the ice pack against my bare skin was growing to be excruciating, hurting more so than the forming bruise beneath. It was nothing now, barely visible if at all. But I knew by the same time tomorrow my torso would be a field of deep blues and purples nearing black in shade. And as much as it hurt to move now, I knew tomorrow would be torturous.
My gaze shifted over to the culprit as the two of us walked down the decrepit school hallways. A scowl rested on the blond boy's face, as one always seemed to. I wondered to myself if it pained his face to look so pissed off all the time. I was tempted to make a sarcastic comment on it, just to piss him off even more, but I was interrupted before I had the chance.
"Welcome boys, have a seat." I quickly came to the realization we had reached the principal's office, and Travis had opened the door without a word.
Both of us did as instructed, sitting as far from each other as possible on the ragged loveseat in front of the principal's desk. A name tag sat front and center on the table reading Mr. Mendel.
I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, trying to find a position that doesn't stress my injuries. I failed.
"So, it has been brought to my attention the two of you had a bit of a scrap this evening in the hallways. And I don't believe this to be the first of your little rumbles. Is that correct lads?" His accent was thick, I assumed it was Irish when paired with his obnoxiously red hair, streaked with white.
Travis rolled his eyes so hard I was sure they'd get stuck back there. "Yeah, yeah. Get to the point old man."
Mr. Mendel coughed into his hand, looking around the room as if he was searching for an escape. "Right, I'm going to need a statement from the both of you to go on record."
Travis moved up from his seat and slammed his hands onto the table making both Mr. Mendel and myself jump at the sudden noise. "The prick had it coming! His snarky comments were nothing other than harassment and all I did was stand up for myself!"
A laugh escapes my lips, I'm honestly in disbelief. "You called me and my friends a 'group of pathetic faggots' to which I responded by telling you to shut the hell up. Then you said 'Don't boss me around freak!' and slammed me onto the ground, proceeding to kick me in the gut repeatedly until Mrs. Packerton sent us both here and you are claiming that I harassed you?"
Travis gasped, tears welling up in his black eye. "Sir you can't believe him! He's lying to you! You can't even see his face, how can you trust that? You have to believe me," He turned his head over to me, close to hysterics. "I'm the victim here!"
Those words rang in my head, starting a fire I had managed to keep out for years. I never let him once piss me off, I never let anyone piss me off. I know they're not worth it. But for him, Travis fucking Phelps, to look me dead in the face and claim to be the victim. After the years of shit, he's put me and my friends through.
"Fuck this," I mumble under my breath as I stand from my place on the couch and head out of the door, dropping the ice pack onto the ground.
"I'll- I'll have to call your parents, both of you!" Mr. Mendel stutters from behind me but I find it hard to care.
***
"I got a call from the school today, Sal." I hear my father's voice as I lock the door behind myself, dropping down my bookbag by the entryway.
* tw starts here *
"Said you got in a fight." As his voice gets closer, I can hear the slur in his words. I try to ignore it, but it's hard not to acknowledge.
"Yeah, it's no big deal dad. I'm gonna go over to Larry's." I was not going over to Larry's, Larry was out of town for the week. I just knew I couldn't be there when my dad was like this.
"No, you're not." Now he's exited his room and is standing in front of me, his eyes are clouded, pupils misshapen and I realize he's not his usual evening drunk. He's flat-out wasted. "You got your ass beat, didn't you kiddo?"
I wince a bit at the pet name but slowly nod my head, I know there's not a point in lying.
"Don't be so pathetic. You gotta stand up for yourself." He says, taking a few steps closer. I take a few steps back until I'm pressed against the front door. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. "What would you do if I threw a punch at you right now? Would you fight back?"
I'm taken back by his question, a buzz starting in the back of my head. "I... I don't know. I don't think I would."
He nods, "Right, because you're weak."
A fist comes flying toward my face, I shrink into myself, trying to hide from the blow. But it doesn't hit me, it hits the door with a loud bang!
"See?" I open my eyes and look back up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. "Weak."
* tw ends here *
He turns and walks back into his room, the door slamming behind him. I know for a fact he won't remember a thing from this interaction tomorrow. And maybe that's the part that sets me off, but there's a fit of newfound anger in my chest.
If my dad doesn't want me to be weak, then I won't.
If Travis wants to be the victim, then he will.
If they'll make me out to be the villain, then I will.
*
*
*
For those who skipped the tw section- Sal's dad called him weak for not fighting back to Travis and pissed Sal off more than he already was.
Author's Note!!
I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Any criticism is appreciated as well as any comments or votes! I swear as a reader I usually like the comments more than the works and I'm sure it's similar as the writer
thank you for reading!! i hope to hear from you again soon!
sincerely
ashes
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victim// a salvis fanfiction
FanfictionTravis Phelps has treated Sal Fisher and his friends as nothing less than human garbage for years. One day, he develops a change of heart and strives to change his ways. Sal has a change of heart as well, only his isn't for the better Major TWs: chi...