A Red Lighter

Caleb: Saved by Someone Like You

My lungs burned and my legs ached before I reached my house. I hated running back but where else would I go. Nobody else wanted me, right? No one else cares? The house was still a mess, but I walked past the kitchen because I didn't want to deal with it and went to the living room. Dad was still out, which I guess was a good thing.

I wanted to go to my room, but my sheets were still bloody and I didn't want to go near the stairs because it was too soon. I sat on the couch and flipped the TV on, trying to find something that would numb my mind. I always hated April 12th; my birthday was the worst day of my life. It always has been, since I was three, it brought back bad memories or created new ones.

I found a random reality TV show that was nothing but a bunch of women screaming at or talking about each other. It didn't take long for me to start to drift off to sleep; my day has been so long. And I really just wanted my birthday to end, I knew I wouldn't get gifts, or cake, or a party. I was lucky I even remember what day it was, even though I wanted nothing more than to forget.

I was deep in a dream that would have any normal person screaming and crying for days. But I wasn't a normal person and don't get me wrong I wanted to scream but that would get me beat. That would wake dad which meant I would be in pain. I remember that when I was younger, dad would try to beat the nightmares out of me. Told me that I was weak and screaming was for the wicked.

I felt the tiny buzz of my cell in my pocket and had to wipe the sleep from my eyes. Of course it was Connor, I wanted to believe so much that he cared, that he would save me. But dreaming for something that wasn't true was a waste of time. I still felt bad for hurting him though. He must've been ecstatic his team made it to the cities, but then I had to spew the depressing shit I deal with and I could see I upset him. I don't know why I felt the need to share and care because nobody wanted to have to deal with me. I was the black hole that sat in the corner; I was the person that brought you down. But it's kind of hard to make others happy when you aren't yourself.

I was lost in the shit show I called my mind when someone walked through the door. I knew it was dad; by the way he slammed the door and stalked through the house. He sat down on the couch next to me and my heart slammed against the cavity of my chest.

"The couch is for people" his voice was harsh and it sliced through the air

"W-What"

I knew that I shouldn't have said anything just slunk off the couch or something, but I didn't I had to question him. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and ripped me off the couch. My eyes squeezed shut as pain shot up through my body, my breathing hitched and I knew whimpering would only make it worse.

"I said the couch is for people... NOT MURDERERS" I held my breath as he shook me then flung me across the room. I pushed myself onto my knees, trying to not stir anymore pain. But it was hard, especially when dad started to boot my side. I felt a couple of my ribs break and crack under the pressure, his last kick being delivered to my face, breaking my nose "sit in the corner and DON'T FUCKING MOVE"

I slowly inched my way into the corner and sat with my legs crossed, pulling the shirt over my head. Even though my ribs screamed and protested against the sudden movement. My shirt was white, well use to be, I pressed it against my nose to try and snuff the bleeding.

Dad sat on the couch where I use to be sitting and turned the television to some other reality TV show. It was almost ten at night and my stomach started to grumble. I was hungry, I never ate lunch and breakfast was a bust.

"Dad" my voice was small

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I'm... a... I'm h-hungry" my stomach growled at the mention of food