Can there be hope for me?

Chapter 2: The broken Phelp's family

When I got home from another crappy day at school, I had worse problems then bullies and random pop quizzes. I had my father. My dad was a wealthy and looked up to man, that's why no one can know about what happens in this house. That was his main rule, I tell no one, and if he finds out I did tell someone, let's just say a bruised eye would seem like heaven. My father sat at the table as I walked in, he barely gave me a glance, which I hated but appreciated. I took my shoes off and walked upstairs to my room. My room was like any room, messy but still somewhat organized, a cross necklace hung up and a Bible on my desk, though my desk was also filled with scrunched up papers and so was my trash can. All evidence of the sinful things I've thought, all of them being about Sally Face.

I quietly walked up to the table. Most were about wanting to know him, what's behind his prosthetic mask, or holding his hands. All these thoughts made me feel gross and shameful. I sat on my bed bored and stared outside, it was cloudy and raining, probably the calmest day I'll get. I laid down and my thoughts were overrun with Sally Face. The way his hair gently brushed his shoulders, how his clothes fitted him, and the longing for seeing his face or holding his hands. I blushed and tried brushing them away but it made them worse and more there, I gave up as my father called my name. I froze before being filled with pure fear, I got up slowly and walked downstairs.

"Yes father?" I asked quietly. He grumbled and looked at me. "Your grades are dropping. Care to explain?" I went completely quiet. The stuff was either too boring or too hard for me, so I was not doing work or it was completely wrong. I knew no excuse would make this situation better for me, but it'll be worse if I don't tell the truth, I know that for sure. "I, I've been having trouble, and slacking off." I mumbled. My father looked at me with pure anger, as if I was a failure or mistake. And honestly, I already am, why not add another reason. Suddenly my father slapped me across the face really hard, making me snap to reality. "You'll be bringing these up, hear me!? Study extra, infact make that the only thing you do, and so help me if I catch you slacking.." He trailed off, though he didn't need to finish since I already knew. If I slacked off my punishment would be worse than a slap across the face, it would most likely be like the eye incident. "Yes father." I responded quietly while holding my cheek. "Oh stop whining, it's a slap Travis. Man up and stop acting like a girl." He scolded me before going to his room to do who knows what.

I kept holding my cheek quietly. He was right. I needed to man up, I was being weak and a sissy, I'm a man. I'm supposed to be strong and not show emotions. But for some reason I started crying, it happened and at that moment I didn't know why. I wiped my eyes but I couldn't stop crying. I quietly walked upstairs to my room and closed the door behind me before sliding onto the floor in front of it. My tears running down my stinging cheek as I sniffled and tried to breath calmly, yet it seemed harder with each second, that's when I knew I was having a panic attack. I tried to calm down but nothing worked, that was until I thought of Sally Face. Him reaching his hand out to me, asking in that soft quiet voice, "Are you okay?" I wasn't. I knew that, yet I wished someone would ask once. I wished I accepted his help. I needed out of this house.