Fixing Broken Hearts

34

Warnings:
-Physical (child) abuse + knife violence

Clay's POV

I saw my father's look change into the ones of a monster right as Elliot ran away from the living room. I knew he was so incredibly angry that he would hurt me more than I could imagine, but honestly, I just wanted him to stay off my brother.

I had been completely numb the past few days, so numb that I even acted like a dick to George, Elliot and Sapnap. I didn't want to, but I didn't feel much anymore, until now. My numbness turned into insane anger, but I couldn't take my father, no matter how angry I was.

!! physical (child) abuse + knife !!

Yet, I decided to still give it a try and for the first time, I fought back. As my father pushed me against the wall, I started kicking his legs. He wrapped his hands around my throat to choke me, which made me so angry that I turned around and punched my elbow into my dad's stomach.

He let go of my neck and seemed to back off, however, he didn't walk away to let me go this easily and walked back to me after grabbing something. I tried to take a look at what was in his hands, soon realising he grabbed a baseball bat.

'Let me go,' I begged as soon as I knew I was pointless against him. I wouldn't be able to fight him when he was holding a baseball bat and tried to find a way to the kitchen to grab a knife to protect myself.

Without thinking, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the first near knife I saw, pointing it towards my father who laughed at me. 'Do you think I'm scared of you? I would be more scared of a faggot like Elliot than I am of you. You are useless, Clay, you don't have it in you.'

I knew he was right, but didn't want to give in and show him my weakness. My hands were shaking as I stepped closer, reaching out in a hopeless attempt to grab the baseball bat. 'I will do it...'

'No, you won't,' he replied, the grin on his face making me so angry that I slowly started to believe I would truly be able to stab him at this point. 'You've always been a pussy, a mistake and a waste of air.'

I grasped onto the knife so strongly that my knuckles started to turn white, trying to hide the shakiness so he wouldn't see how scared I truly was. 'I will do it, I hate you.'

My father stepped forward and before I processed it, he punched me in the face with the baseball bat. I screamed and fell down on the floor, feeling the baseball bat hit my face a second time.

Hopelessly, I rolled to my side and climbed up, the knife strongly in my hand. My father was so close to me that he seemingly got scared of the knife and reached out to grab it. I pulled my hand away and saw him moving closer and closer.

I stuck my foot out in a last attempt to get him away from me and the knife. He tripped and fell down, grabbing my arm as he fell down. It caused me to make a weird turn as I fell down as well, but then...

The knife pierced his stomach, making me gasp as he winced. I immediately saw blood all around, the floor slowly filling with a puddle of blood. I immediately stood up, ignoring the dizziness after being beaten against my face twice.

!! over (still mentions blood) !!

'I didn't mean to,' I whispered. 'I didn't mean to do that...'

All colour disappeared from my face, nausea overtaking my body. I didn't know what to do and kept staring, thinking about what would happen if someone would figure out I stabbed my own father. Would I go to jail?

'I knew you were a psychopath,' my father muttered with a breathless voice. 'And I'll make sure you'll suffer for it.'

In the distance, I heard a car door getting slammed shut in front of our house. My heart skipped a beat and then, I turned around and started running. I ran to the back door, opened it and sprinted outside, ignoring the insane headache I had.

Right as I slammed the door behind me, I heard screams inside of the house. I started running farther away and when I was on a safe distance, I glanced back one time. Right in front of the window was Elliot, looking at me.

I abruptly stood still, knowing I had been caught. I was ready to walk back, but then he mouthed something. I focused on his lips and saw him say: "run, Clay, now. I love you."

I formed a heart with my hands and didn't hesitate anymore, running as quick as I could to get away from the house, and the drama I caused again. I knew that if I would stay, I would be arrested. No one would believe a teenager like me, one who skipped school and if you would do a drug test, would test more than positive.

After a long run, I realised I still had my phone on me. Hopelessly, I took it out of my pocket and ran to a tree. I knew the police would track my phone and I couldn't risk it, I would go to jail, no one would listen to my story...

I pushed some dirt away and laid my phone down. I gulped as I buried my phone, doubting if it would still work if I would ever get it back. Yet, that was my last worry right now and I continued running...

~~~

After an hour of running, I collapsed on the floor as I heavily panted. I curled up on the floor and tried to clean some of the blood from my hands and face. At this point, I felt so hopeless that I was tempted to go to the police, but I knew it was pointless.

I sniffed softly and felt tears forming in my eyes. I needed money, I needed to find a way to survive while I was on the streets on my own. I was so addicted that I needed more heroin too, I couldn't live without it...

Eventually, an idea popped up in my mind. Slowly, I regained the strength to stand up and started walking to the city close by. I just had to find a way to work as a prostitute, fulfilling my urges to sexual contact at the same time...

1108 words