Little Freak {HS}

XIV - Eternal

The door of my bedroom opens with the same rage I closed it what seems only a minute ago. And I flinch whole, curling up in one corner, not ready for it just yet.

"Still in that state?" The voice that is never a good sign speaks from it and walks in, all as if I had the best night of sleep and it's not understandable that simply my own breathing hurts my body.

"Look at yourself." My mother starts, grabbing me up by one arm she buries her nails on, purposely, "Aren't you the brave hero that's gonna save everyone?" She asks rhetorically, bumping me lightly into the wall just for the satisfaction of making me fall again. But I don't.

"Well, you only look like shit, to me." A smile creeps up on her face at her own words to pretend she's not bothered by it, but if looks could kill, I would be well dead. Perhaps even illegally buried on our backyard, so that no one would notice. And I wish I hated to admit how much I would actually like that right now.

No one cares about me already, and at least nothing would hurt me anymore. I'd be softly nestled by cold moist dirt, without hearing a sound, seeing a light, or feeling a thing, and all I wanted was to stay here in my bedroom and try to do so.

But unfortunately, I hear my mother's mad giggles at me all too well, feel all my bones aching, and see the way my guitar lays on the floor. Or at least some parts of it.

That was my mother's first victim yesterday, when I got home very much later than I usually do already. Caroline also didn't want to leave me that way, so she took me to her house. We managed to hide in her bedroom - hide me, more specifically - and there we sat on her bed until I was ready to approach the events.

I immediately protested I wanted to have a word with Principal Davis. How could he allow something like this to happen, knowing how much it all means to me. Caroline, though, contradicted with a much softer tone than my angry one, saying perhaps he didn't even know about the change and it was all One Directions' work.

That made me even madder I jumped from the bed because I couldn't stay still. While I cursed at them as hard as I could, I was feeling either like breaking the room down or hit myself with something. The first option was quickly discarded, for that beige and light pink neat bedroom was too pretty to even have me inside. And the second was also forgotten the moment I felt her hands grabbing my face and her kissing me strongly to shut me up.

Her tongue immediately teared in mine for how starved she was for me, and I found myself enjoying her aggressiveness more than supposed. So I was effective at holding her up just to throw her back on her bed and I hovered her. Taking a second to cope with it all, we both giggled against each other at the loud noise it made. But soon my hand was founding it's way underneath her clothes, and when a soft moan threatened to leave her throat, she got it we had to be quiet.

However, that was also when someone called for her right at the door and it was opened before we could do anything. I was caught possessively over her, and was left to wonder how much gladly she was underneath me herself. An ocean of embarrassment and guilt shoved upon me, and I barely felt it as I was being scolded out of the house, with yelling from all parties present.

I didn't think much on my way home almost like afraid that her mother would still be right behind me to hit my head if I even stoped for a single second. Which, in a way, helped me to be ready to arrive at home to more scolding.

But this was no longer a mother scolding an irresponsible son, ever since the guitar I carried on my shoulder had been suddenly ripped from me to be used to hurt me more than any physical contact could ever. It was stepped onto and broken in half, before the strings were also mutilated.

I don't even remember in which way I reacted. I could only feel my heart sink into a deadly void and for the first time I wished it actually did. "You see this?!" My mother shouted, stopping for a moment, only turning to keep smashing it on me, "This is what you get for NOT-- DOING-- WHAT I-- SAY!"

I wasn't even sure of what she was referring to, exactly, and I would've surly laughed with my rebel self at that, if it wasn't for the blood spilled the moment my face became the main target.

I met the ground, and from there I couldn't think of anything else but to turn on defensive. Because, despite everything, I could do anything but hit my mother. Not in terms of compassion and respect for her or whatever, but in terms of keeping myself from reaching down to that level of hers. Though I believe it pisses her off even more that I don't give her leash and she is forced to let it go at some point, as if not wanting to waste the message that's not being responded.

But this time she would only be finished once I was unconscious on the floor. And for moments I let her, in hopes that way it would all end. Because the more I think about fighting, the weaker I get, and I hated myself for that so much I felt like joining her and beating myself down too.

"You're just like your father!" She turned to verbalize her insults, seeing I wasn't as affected by her kicks and punches as she wanted me to. And she knows it too well how to use words against me. So she mentioned father and that was it for me.

I groaned angrily when I felt nothing crushing my bones any longer and growled at her to stop doing it that way, once and for all. She pretended to be surprised by my manners and I took it as my cue to stand up - physically and for myself. But I didn't know what else to tell her, as well as it wouldn't be worth it. So I just ran up the stairs into the bedroom I don't know if I still feel safe at.

I stayed here, trembling in pain and anger, breathless tired of everything, but no longer knowing sleep. Yet wondering about that one eternal of which we never wake up from.

Until, next thing I knew, daylight was peeking through.