Come to me, Sweet Child

Chapter 5: The Past

PLEASE READ****⚠️TW⚠️ The first half of this chapter touches on past emotional abuse and childhood trauma, please skip down to where the text is no longer italicized or do not read this chapter at all if it bothers you and/or triggers you. ****

"God dammit Michael, you are always fucking things up!  Argh, what were you thinking!"

Michael sinks in his seat, hoping it swallows him whole.  His clothes were partially soiled with blood and the smell of iron seemed to intensify the more Michael stared at the stains.  Every second he breathes, is a second off his brother's life.

Michael looks towards the window at his father's reflection, arms wrapped securely around his middle.  William was gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a sour look painted his face.  An uncomfortable yet familiar feeling was beginning to rise within the depths of Michael's stomach. 

When Michael speaks, his voice barely reaches above a whisper.

"D-dad?" 

William continues on driving, having not heard his son.

Michael clears his throat and tries again, "Dad?"

"What, Michael?"

The unfriendly tone causes Michael  to flinch.  He opens his mouth to speak, but snaps it shut once he catches William's sharp side glance.

"..n-nevermind."

Michael forces down the the feeling, knowing it will soon come back with more force.  Silence and tension dances around the two, becoming more and more evident as they drive on.  Michael turns his attention to the trees outside, trying his best to count them as they went by.

When the car pulls off to the side of the road and comes to a stop, Michael does not dare tear his attention away from the window.  One glance at his father's reflection showed a man Michael was terrified of.  He saw this man quite often as he got older, and had come to learn how to avoid this man and keep his father in good spirits.  Going out or avoiding William worked best when he was irritated and not in a good mood, but...where could Michael go?

They're in the middle of nowhere, on an empty road, not another car in sight, with the sun just barely illuminating the sky as purple and dark blue hues take over.

Michael's lower lip begins to quiver, but he bites it to keep quiet. He knows his father hates it when he cries.

"Michael."

The boy spots a deer, it's such a peaceful sight.

"Michael." The man's voice lowers dangerously.

Michael's eyes never leave the deer.  Even after it has ventured back within the forest, Michael continues to stare off into the distance.  He begins to imagine what it would be like to be free, just like the deer.  Would life still be as cruel as it was? Or would he actually feel loved and at peace.

Michael isn't surprised when his airway is abruptly cut off.  Those oh so loving hands wrapping securely around his neck, each rugged finger nail digging into his skin, drawing tiny spurts of blood to the front.

"You know you should listen when your name is called, Michael."

The boy knows it futile to do so, yet he claws at his father's hands.  He didn't want to choke on the vomit he forced himself to keep down.

"You are a failure, Michael!"  William gets closer to the boy's face, his tone changing to a mockingly somber one.