(JUSTIN's p.o.v continues.)
A gentle knock, before my mother approach my bed. "Honey, you have to go to school."
I pull the covers over my head. "I rather die than leave this room." I groaned, bringing my knees to my chest.
She pulled the covers down and looked at me with guilt. I had dried tear marks down my cheeks. "Baby cakes. I don't want you to be home alone with your father here."
"I'm fine. Don't worry. I can handle everything just fine." I said to my mother, pulling the covers back over my head. She left without another word. I peeped through a crack out my my covers. I see she place money on my dresser by door. As I sit up my brother Rye already left for school. Getting up, I put my striped shorts over my boxers. Picking up the money on my dresser. 100 dollar bill was in my hand. "Oh mom. You didn't have to do this." I whispered to myself.
Leaving my room was probably the worst mistake in my life. But I was so hungry. Last night dad came home, so I went to bed with no dinner. This morning, I couldn't wait any longer.
I stepped out side my bedroom door. Walked quietly to the livingroom, pass my parents room, I didn't hear one snore from that room. It kind of concerned me. I tip toed to the kitchen, only to bump in to the one and only.... "Hi dad..." I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to make no eye contact.
"What do you think our doing?" He followed me around the kitchen.
I gopened the freezer and grabbed a sack of bacon. "Making breakfast." I started up the oven and searched around for clean spatulas.
"Where is your mother?" He asked me.
I just shrugged off the question, but mumbled "I don't know. Probably work." I place the bacon on the hot pan and listen to the sweet sound of sizzling pig.
My father stood on the other side of the kitchen. "Why do you walk and act like a woman?" He asked me.
I raised one eye brow but didn't bother to make eye contact. "Lol if today is just gonna be asking me questions, I'll pass." I smiled, grabbing my plate of bacon and began walking to my bedroom.
I then feel a tug on my hair, making me drop the plate and loose my balance. Looking up at the man, tears filled my eyes. "You will answer my questions." My father whispered in my ear.
"And what if I don't?" I pulled my hair out of his grip.
As I was fixing my hair, until I felt a hand grab onto my wrist. "What is this?" He asked, looking down at me.
"What is what?"
"This piece of shit Justin!" He grabs the beaded bracelet that was around my wrist. I tried pulling my hand away, but his grip tightened.
"Stop No what are you-!" I yelled but in mid sentence, he pulled the bracelet off my wrist, break in it and having the colorful beads fly everywhere. My heart was torn.
"My son will not wear colorful jewlery! Your plugs are an acception!" He yells at me. "Now pick them up, faggot."
I sat on my knee, picking up a bead, one by one. I kept them in my pocket for safe keepings, till Rye came back from school. I also picked up the broken plate and dirty bacon off the floor. I got back to my room and set the beads into a small box. When I look on my dresser and noticed the 100 bill was missing. I didn't bother to even ask my father what happened to it. There was no doubt that he took it. I'd laugh if he didn't.
After taking a hot, warm steamy shower. I noticed, when I looked in the mirror, that my bruised cheek had fade away. But the scars on my arms have not.
If you were me, trust me, you wouldn't want to be alive. I've done to many attempts of suicide. There are deep scars on my arms and hips, a rope mark around my neck from a noose, I've tried over dosing, drinking bleach, almost putting a gun to my head. But, I always have something stopping me. My mother and brother, they make me notice what I really should be living for, and my sexual orientation should no matter at all.
I stood in the bathroom, just wear plaid blue boxers. I took my time, just peeping up for no one in particular. I just like feeling pretty. But we know that can't happen. I'm just a dude.
In the middle of me brushing my teeth, I hear a buzzing outside the bathroom door. I steppes back just a few inches before that door flung open. There he was, my dad with an electric razor in his hand. He grabbed a hold of my hair and slammed my face onto the edge of the sink. Causing my nose to bleed. "Dad what are you-!?" I spoke but he just told me to shut up.
I then see bunches of pieces of my hair falling in front of my face, into the sink. I was devastated, my hair, it was gone with in 10 minutes. I lifted up my head and stared at my new, unfashionable hair cut.
"Why would you do this!?" I yelled and just feeling the spikes of my hair, I looked down to what used to be attached to my head. Dripping of a liquid flow down my lips. When I touch it, there was red. I have dealt with this, for far to long, and he has gone way to far.
My hand crinkled into a fist as I threw a punch towards my dad, throwing him off balanced and falling over. I quickly ran to my bedroom to change in to some casual clothing before my father barges into my room.
"You think you can punch me!? " he yells, grabbing the collar of my tee-shirt and throwing me against a wall. I held my side, making sure nothing is broke. This is by far the worst fight I have ever been in with my father.
"What makes you think you can beat me!? Because I'm not perfect?" I slowly stand up, using the wall as support. My ribs were in, as my skin was bruised. He then tries throwing a punch towards my face. I quickly dodged it, leaving him piercing a hole into the wall.
"I didn't ask for my son to be gay!" He growled as he pulled his hand out of the wall. Then revealing a knife in his palm.
I grabbed my backpack. "Well I didn't ask to be gay either!" He then goes for cutting my stomach but I fucking sucked in my gut and backing away, leaving him slicing open a hole in my shirt.
I try manovering myself around him towards my door but he always stopped me. He pushed me onto the ground and held the knife above my face. I used all my might in the arms to hold the blade away. I got a big wiff of his breath, which freaked of alcohol. Why would this man get intoxicated in the morning?
Leaning the knife to the left, he cut the side of my cheek. Tears rolled down my face as I pushed him over into my old wooden bed frame. He stayed down for a while. Enoght for me to escape my bedroom.
Next step, to the front door. As I ran to the front door, my dad just have to have the last punch. He comes up behind me, flipping me around and pinning me to the door. Then punching my face, till one of my eyes turned back and swollened shut.
I ran away towards back to my room but he grabbed my wrist. "You wanted to fight pretty boy...." He started a sentence, pulling me towards our glass window. "Now I'm finishing it." He said. Throwing me with all his might, through the window.
I lied in the lawn, with glass pierced into my skin. Looking up, I saw blurred faces, of terrified neighbors. "And don't you ever come back!" He yelled. I stood up, but then falling over as I tried running away.
I took a few steps more till a reached the doorsteps of a small house. I rang the door bell. Heard no answer. Rang again a few more times, leaning against the door. The door opened and I looked up.
"Justin?!" Brady's voice shakened. He looked at me with concern and stared at me for a few moments.
I lifted my bleeding hands towards him. "H-H- Help..... M-Me-Mee...." I said weakly, almost passing out as I stap forward to Brady, he guided me to his living room and rested me down on the couch.
He grabbed some bandages and started cleaning my cuts "Justin's What happened to you?"
