New Hashira

Chapter 8

The sound of slamming ran through the house as a mother kicked her son's stomach, sending him to the wall. "I-I'm sorry mama!" He cried out as he recovered.

"Your useless! You can't even cook a meal by yourself!" She exclaimed as she pulled his long hair that she nor her son had bothered to cut, unless it got way too long. "I'm sorry mama!" He repeated. "I won't burn it again."

"Forget about cooking, brat. You'll never be good at it, go clean yourself then the laundry. You'll not have dinner tonight." She said bitterly before throwing him against the wall and went into the kitchen. Leaving the boy catch his breath then started making dinner. As soon as he did, he quickly got up and slowly went to wash himself then the laundry; just as his mother told him to. He grabbed his siblings', and mother's dirty cloths.

'It hurts.' He thought as he scrubbed and scrubbed the clothes with the abrasive sands in the bucket of water. Puring more and more soap, cleaning more and more clothes then, he hung them up to dry. 

When he got back into his home, he saw that his mom and siblings were eating. He sat down on the chair next his older sister. His stomach growled as he watched his family eat. This happened to him so often that he actually had gotten used to not eating. He messed up on little things all the time that he hasn't eaten in days, and days had turned to weeks recently.

His mother was so mad he never learned from his mistakes that she punished him severely each time. Her 2 other kids were perfect, unlike their younger brother. His older brother and sister were good at everything but physical strength, which in their daily life is something they don't need. His older siblings didn't care how their mother treated him; in fact, they thought what their mother was doing was how parents were supposed to treat their nonperfect children.

Once again, the boys belly rumbled which resulted with his mother yelling at him to stop making his stomach growl. Her youngest child quickly apologized and ran to the kitchen and came out with a glass of water, drinking it to give something to his belly. When he finished drinking, he weakly sat the empty glass on the dinner table, sitting himself down on the chair.

When his family had finished their food they went to bed, forgetting about the youngest. His stomach growled again; the water's effects earlier had worn out. He looked at the dishes that were used for cooking for any leftovers. There was none, so he drank another glass of water and went to bed with an empty stomach like the last few weeks.

He might be a 'useless child', but he still needed to get an education. After his mother had roughly woken him up, he changed his clothes, cleaned his teeth, and tied his hair back.

He had no friends, no best friends, not even someone he talks to. He was a loner, but surprisingly he never got bullied. He had to bring his own lunch, which he never brings a lunch for reasons you may not know. 

As he walked to school, he held the bruised side of his torso.  He felt a liquid on his hand and pulled his hand away from his torso and looked at it. His eyes widened as he saw that there was a small amount of blood. He quickly looked at the spot where his hand was. He was bleeding through his shirt. 'Not now.' He thought as he ran the rest of the way to school. 

Instead of going to the cafeteria, where students ate their breakfast, he asked to go to the nurse's office. When the nurse saw that he was bleeding, she quickly asked him to remove his shirt, but the young boy was hesitant.

"Sweety, if you want to get treated, you're going to have to remove your shirt." She told before he slowly took his white shirt off. She gasped when she saw that his body was covered in bruises. "How did you get these?" She asked after she grabbed rubbing alcohol, a small nonreusable cloth, and a buttload of bandages.