The Evil That Men Do | $UICIDEBOY$ | $CRIM

8: Ugly

(TW: VIOLENCE, ASSAULT, GORE, DEATH)

Winnie's POV

7 Years Ago

My head was pounding, my ears ringing louder than I had ever heard before. I stared at the concrete right in front of my face, everything blurry. Blood pooled below me. I shook my head, spitting more metallic liquid that that filled my mouth.

Grimm was beating the shit out of me.

I almost had forgotten where I was, he was beating me down so hard. I knew I needed a hospital, I couldn't keep up with my breaths, my chest was on fire, and my head wasn't right anymore... All I did was walk by.

Where even was I again..?

Oh, yeah, outside our private school.

Of course no one was witnessing this. When it came to Grimm, even the teachers stood clear. He wasn't to be fucked with, and he made that clear.

He was hanging with his group of friends when I had walked by. I don't remember if I glanced at him or looked at him. All I knew was that he wasn't pleased with it, and was letting me know. This is probably one of those days where he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

I wheezed out slightly, shaking my hand in front of me, begging him to stop as I clutched my chest tightly, trying to catch my breath through gushing blood and thick saliva. He stomped my hand into the ground, and laughed as he began to crush my fingers.

"Boo-hoo... What are you gonna do, huh?" He cackled before kicking my head with the heel of his boot. His friends were watching him, smirks and chuckles leaving them every now and again.

What could I do? He was the one training me in jujitsu, how do you beat the one who taught you?

I had to take it like a bitch.

Nothing I can do.

"Go ahead, you pussy," I spat at him, through gritted teeth, trying to fucking breathe. If he hated me so fucking much, he should just kill me. Just like he always said he wish he could.

My chest was on fire.

"I'll make sure they put you in a bed next to mom, since I can't quite kill ya." I looked up at him, taking in the malicious grin that was etched into his face.

At least he knows what I want.

I stared at him before he brought back his leg, and slammed his boot into my head, sending me back to the ground, my consciousness slipping before I could feel anything else.

I wish he would get sober.

-

"I had it up to here with you two!" My dad screamed, slamming his hand on his desk. We stood there, unmoved, my head down, and Grimm's eyes trailing around the room, trying to avoid him.

He was mad at me because I couldn't keep Grimm in line with his behavior. It was an impossible task that he knew was going to take a toll on me. It wasn't my fucking job to babysit a bar-tard baby. I'm also trying to grow up.