Seasons #1

Azrael

I'm so stupid. How am I supposed to love someone else when I can't even love myself? What have a I done? More stress on myself, another person to worry about while I struggle silently alone. Not alone. She knows now. I shouldn't have even told her.

The child is twelve now. It's his birthday but he doesn't even bother to care. It's just another day for him. A day of abuse.
He hears his father walk in the door. The child stands in his bedroom with his hands behind his back. He breathing heavy, scared knowing that he's about to used to release anger from the day his father had.
"Azrael, come here." His father says so calmly. A frightened Azrael walks to where his father is standing in the living room. He has zip ties in his hands. "Turn around, please." Azrael does as he's told.
His father holds Azrael's hands behind his back as he tightens the zip ties around his wrists. Azrael sucks in a breath as he feels the ties cut into his skin. He feels the warmth of his blood run down his ties hands. "It's this. It's what I'm about to do that will set me free." His father says as he guides him downstairs to the basement.
He pulls out a rope from a cabinet. He pushes Azrael down into a chair and ties the rope around his waist. "When mommy wakes up she will come down to play with you one last time." His father walks back up the stairs and closes the basement door behind him.
The child sits there in silence. I am the child. I sit there in silence and confusion. My stomach hurts from the rope being too tight around me. My hands sting and are belle sing from the right zip ties around my wrists. My head is pounding from being so terrified of him. My father. What has this come to? What is he doing to me? To my mother? What did he mean by one last time?
I sit there for what feels like hours. I watch the sky get dark from the little window near the ceiling. The basement door opens and I see him push my mother down the stairs. She lands hard on the concrete floor.
"Get up!" He yells at her.
I feel warm tears run down my face. "Mom, I love you." I whisper. She hears me and smiles at me before standing up.
My father sets another chair right in front of me. He sets her down in it and ties her to the chair the same way he did to me only he doesn't zip tie her wrists. Instead, he puts a blindfold over her eyes. He kisses her lips softly and then slaps her cheek.
"Azrael, I want you to count for me okay?" He says to me. "Every time I hit mommy, I need you to count out loud."
"I - "
"Just do as you're told!" He yells at me as he undoes his belt. He hits my mother hard and she cries out.
"One." I whisper.
"Louder!"
"One!" I tell at him.
"Good. Now all you have to do is just count out loud. If you scream, I hit her harder. Understand?"
I nod.
He hits her continuously and I count each one. I pause and throw up. He hits her harder. I count to seventy-five before I see her body go limp. I stop counting as he continues to hit her. He doesn't even notice I've stopped counting. He keeps hitting, harder each time. I watch the life go out of my mothers eyes. My father unties her and her body falls to the floor. Her bloody, bruised and now lifeless body. I close my eyes and let my hot tears fall down my face. I take a few deep breaths and pray that he stops hitting her.
He finally stops. I look up and him and feel so much hate towards him. I tried so fucking hard to love this man. This man who I called my father. He blames me for the troubles he faces in life. He blames me for his drinking addiction. I didn't ask to be brought into this world. It's not my fault. I didn't do anything to deserve this, did I?
I scream as loud as I can. He turns to look at me. Hatred in his eyes. "You are a fucking mistake! You have caused so much damn stress for us! You should never have born." He brings the belt down hard on my legs. I scream again. He unties me and pushes me down to my knees. He whips he hard breaking my skin. I feel every single hit as he continues without stopping. I try to keep screaming but I can't find my voice anymore. My throat burns, my stomach hurts and my back stings. I think to myself that this is it. The basement door swings open and people run down the stairs. Police officers I see their badges. Two of the pull my father away from me. Two of the run over to me. One cuts the zip ties from my bloody wrists as the other one unties me from the chair. They try to help me stand up but I run. I run up the stairs and to my bedroom. I crawl under the bed and scream. I feel tears in my eyes but they don't fall. The officers come into my bedroom and call me out from under the bed. I refuse. They eventually leave. I lay down under my bed and fall asleep.
The next time I open my eyes a female is trying to get me to come out from under my bed. Her voice is so soft as she asks me to come out. I let her pull me out. I sit up and stare at her. The police officers are with her. I don't let them touch me or get near me. I let her take my hand and lead me out of my bedroom, out of the only house I ever knew.