♪
_________________________________________________
"Dear friend across the river
My hands are cold and bare
Dear friend across the river
I'll take what you can spare
I ask of you a penny
My fortune it will be
I ask you without envy
We raise no mighty towers
Our home are built of stone
So come across the river
And find the world below"
_________________________________________________
♪
--First POV
"You piece of shit!" my father shouted before he started beating me mercilessly. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, the pain searing through my body. "I told you to cook me dinner, didn't I? DIDN'T I?!" His voice was filled with rage as he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, his eyes wild with anger. The punches kept coming, each one sending waves of agony through me. I could feel my consciousness fading as he then gripped my hair, dragging me unceremoniously to the stairs, his grip unrelenting. He locked me in a small, dark room where he proceeded to chain my neck, the metal cutting into my skin. "Piece of shit!" he spat before slamming the door shut. The pain was overwhelming, but I had grown numb to it over time.
I lost track of time in that dark, suffocating room. The only sounds were the echoes of my father's drunken rages and my own muffled sobs. Hunger gnawed at my insides, and thirst parched my throat. I was weak, depleted, a shell of the person I once was.
One day bled into the next in a haze of agony and despair. My father's violent outbursts had become routine, a twisted form of normalcy in my hellish existence. I was a prisoner in my own home, chained by fear and suffering.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body aching, my spirit broken. The darkness of that room became my only solace, shielding me from the harsh reality outside.
One morning, I awoke to the sound of the door creaking open. My father stood there, his eyes glazed with alcohol, a cruel smirk on his face. "Wake up, you little turd! Go and cook my breakfast," he barked, his voice filled with malice. He unchained me roughly, kicking me as I stumbled to my feet. The pain was a familiar companion, a constant reminder of my worthlessness in his eyes.
I dragged myself to the kitchen, my movements slow and labored. I prepared his breakfast in silence, my hands trembling with fear. He devoured the meal without a word, leaving me alone once again in the suffocating silence of our home.
Night fell, and with it came the dreaded sound of my father's rage echoing through the empty house. I braced myself for the inevitable, the familiar cycle of violence and pain.
"You little fuck?! Where the hell are you?!" his voice thundered, sending shivers down my spine. I emerged from my hiding place, my heart pounding in terror as I faced his wrath once again.
He stood there, a chain in hand, a sinister glint in his eyes. "We're going somewhere," he slurred, the stench of alcohol heavy on his breath. My heart raced with fear, uncertainty clouding my mind.
He bound my arms with the cold, unforgiving metal, dragging me out into the night. We arrived at a dark alley, where two shadowy figures awaited us.
"How much?" my father demanded, shoving me forward. The men exchanged a look before one of them spoke. "Heh, 5 ought to do," he said, handing over the money with a leer. My father passed them the chain that had bound me, his greed evident in his eyes as he pocketed the cash.
The men turned their attention to me, their gazes predatory and cruel. My heart pounded in fear as I realized the true horror of my situation.
"We could have a little fun before selling his organs," one of them sneered, his words dripping with malice. I recoiled in terror, my body trembling with fear.
"What a pretty face you have, even when covered in bruises," the other man taunted, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. I pushed him away, a surge of defiance rising within me.
"You little shit!" he snarled, his hand raised to strike me.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the darkness, a beacon of hope in the sea of despair.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" the voice demanded, filled with righteous anger.
The men turned, startled by the interruption. A figure emerged from the shadows, a man with a beard and a steely gaze.
"Now that's not a good way to treat someone, is it?" he said, his voice firm and unwavering.
The men hesitated, unsure of how to respond to this unexpected intrusion. In a swift motion, the man disarmed them, his movements fluid and powerful.
I watched in awe as he stood before me, a silent guardian in the darkness.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the bruises and cuts that marred my body.
And then, everything went dark as I succumbed to the exhaustion and pain that had plagued me for so long.
_________________________________________________
YOU ARE READING
Jinx × Male Reader | A Reason
RomanceY/N, a boy who was abused and later sold by his father gets saved by Vander, The Hound of The Underground. This encounter leads to a new chapter in his life. Meeting new friends, he grows especially fond of a blue-haired girl.
