(TW: Violence, Blood, Curse Words, Drugs)
Oshibka gasped for air, gripping at the burning pain in her throat, quaking. She coughed repeatedly with every gasp, her face regaining color slowly. Her father wiped the blood that was leaking from his own nose, chuckling a bit while feasting his eyes on his seven year old daughter try to catch her breath after being strangled during one of their training fights. "Come on, get the hell up.". Oshibka continued to sob. She doesn't want to do training. She hates doing training. Her father has no remorse for her when she gets beaten up. He just carries on with it as though it's a normal thing for a responsible parent to do. She gets on her hands and knees, still trembling with fear, rage, and frailty. "You. . . a-are a. . . horrible p-parent. . ." Oshibka said, sniffling and sobbing while speaking. Her father then knocked her to the ground with his boots, grinding the side of her head into the ground. "Say that shit one more time, I swear to fucking god.". Oshibka lifted her hand, trembling, to grip his boot. She dug her small fingernails into his boot, her tears turning from distress to anger as she jerked his foot, causing him to topple over. He got up off the dirt and brushed the dust off of his jacket before picking Oshibka up by the face straight off of the ground. He shook her aggressively while yelling at her before throwing her to the ground. She glided across the ground, the pebbles and stones slicing her face as she slides by. She wants to curl up into a ball and hide. She hates this. She hates her father. This isn't home. This is a nightmare. This household is a nightmare.
The family of four sat at the table, eating the almost expired and undercooked food that the mother had served, silence circling around in the air. The mother, Artem, glared up from her plate and at the father, Abaddon. "Fyodor got a badge in fighting and in defense today. How's she doing?" Artem announced to Abaddon, harshly toned with the last sentence. Of course her brother got two badges today. He was practically good at everything in the parents' eyes. It was almost like they saw Oshibka as a tiny ant who can't do anything by herself and saw Fyodor like Hercules himself, a blessing on Earth. . .. Abaddon just sighed. "Horrible as always. There's a reason we named her Oshibka." "I know. But listen, times are getting difficult, if we don't get a useful helping hand around here, who knows what's going to happen then." "Yes, it's just difficult to change something that was a mistake from the very start into something worth existing." "I know. But we can do it together.". Abaddon huffed before saying "Yea, if it's even possible for anyone to change her.". Oshibka couldn't eat at all. Her jaw hurts from dragging across the ground. Her arms hurt from trying to fight back against someone who she knew she couldn't defeat anyway. Her legs hurt from running. Her knees hurt. Her feet hurt. Her head hurts. Her hands hurt. Everything hurts. She wants to just run away from home, find a place where she can do things normal kids with good parents do. Climb trees, play games, use her imagination and run around in a field of beautiful green grass around butterflies and ladybugs while pretending to be something foolish like a bird or an airplane or a train. . . , hug her parents, color coloring books, go to school. . . Oshibka teared up, her mind in space as she thought about how wonderful life would be if she wasn't born by these perfectionists who want to raise their kids to not be happy adults but rather workers for them so then they can be lazy for as long as they live, getting as high as a kite every night on the drugs that make their lives "worth living". . . This household is a nightmare.