Messed Up

Chapter 7: Harm to a Little Child!

Warning: This chapter contains a strong sensitive topic and may be a possible trigger for many out there. If Child Abuse is a Trigger for you, then you will possibly want to skip this chapter. Please note that the type of abuse is physical abuse and not Sexual in nature. So, you don't have to worry about reading anything dealing with sexual abuse in this chapter. This Abuse will be focused completely on the physical harm of a child when an adult beats a child. If this is something that will Trigger or IRK you, DO NOT READ THIS! If this type of stuff does not bother you, please continue at your own peril. :P

POV: Julian

My dad is evil. My mother puts up with him, but he is evil. Sometimes he's nice, especially around other people. My dad just got fired from his job in Boston. That's why we moved to Ridgeway, MA. I am not very good at school work. Others seem to think I am, but I am not. I can't pay attention to teachers when they talk and I'm always behind. It's hard for me to grasp complicated theories. Because of this I don't get good grades.

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My father has always been a drunk. He would go to the bar as soon as he got out of work and stay there until they threw him out. The thing was, he was always a mean drunk! By the time he would get home he always would work himself up into a horrible mood that would have him lash out at anyone he sees. Unfortunately, that would be Mom and me. After he got fired, he started drinking even more, drinking almost all of the savings away. At least, that was what Mom was saying. When he came home drunk, I am usually asleep, Mom would just watch him with fear from the kitchen.

Angry and wanting someone to take it out on, you would think he would go after my mother, but it turns out his favorite beating stick was me. If I am not there, then he would use my mother as my replacement. This of course wasn't a nightly occurrence but it happened enough that I was afraid to fall asleep every night.

I knew that there was always a chance that at some point in the late hour of the night, that I could be yanked from my bed. The worst part was having my pajama bottoms and diaper removed and then, if I was wet, my father would beat me with his belt. If I was dry, I would still be very extremely lucky to escape a severe spanking on my bare bum, at least he used his hands most of the time then. Either way that spanking was only the warm up, for what was to come. Still naked from the waist down Dad would grab my neck and drag me out into the living room next to his chair. I always would see Mom shivering in fear in the kitchen doorway, knowing darn well what was most likely about to happen to me.

Dad now gets comfortable and sits down in his big old chair and begins to drink even more, making me fetch him beer after beer as he watches old reruns on T.V. while I hope I don't lose control and pee all over the carpet. I knew from what happened in the past, that he would beat me so bad, that I would lose consciousness. My only hope is that he will pass out before he gets to the point that he really wants to hurt me! Mom and I watch in fear as he gets good and drunk. As he drinks his beers,

I always move further away from him and closer to my mom, hoping for protection. Luckily, a lot of times he doesn't notice as he is more focused on the T.V. or what he wants to tell me. Like telling me about how much of a failure I am. He says the same thing every time calling me childish, a big baby, and a good for nothing failure. I try to stay as quiet as possible. My dad is a failure, or so my mom says. So, he doesn't want me to be a failure. Unfortunately for me, I am one.

On nights that my dad doesn't pass out first, that is, he got angry enough after five or six beers, to get really get violent! He gets up from his chair and walks over to me. He looks at me in the face then punches me. I fall to the ground and he swings again. My mother just watches because she knows we can't leave. He owns the bank account with all of our money. He takes all of his anger out on me. He hits me while telling me I'm worthless. He punches me while I'm cowering on the floor. While he does this, he gets madder. Mad that I can't control my bladder. Mad that I'm a failure. Mad that he's a failure. Mad that his life is in the dumps. Once I'm bruised enough for his liking, he stops. Goes back to his chair and falls asleep. I drag myself back to my room with Mom's help, then she rediapers me and I pass out on my bed.