Death Has Wings

You've Heard About Child Abuse, Right?

I was ten when mother got married to John. That day was when my world really crumbled. It was in the summer, July I think, though English summers aren't really warm. I remember everyone dressed in wedding attire and then there I was in a Nirvana t-shirt and jeans. I loved the fact that my mother let me wear whatever I wanted, even at her wedding.

John had been waiting in the courtyard of the church when he talked to me. He was wearing a suit. Nothing more to say.

"Clark, follow me." He gestured to take my hand but I refused. I'd only known him for six months and I wasn't going to trust him at all. I took a step back. He smiled at me and held out his hand.

"C'mon. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk in private." He sounded so fatherly and gentle. I believed him, but I was only ten, and I was missing a father figure in my life, you can't blame me. It was the stupidest mistake in my life. I didn't take his hand but I followed him. I followed him to the crypt in the church graveyard. I'll admit, I was pretty brave for a ten year old, but being in there alone with John scared me. I was right to be scared.

As soon as we were both in the crypt, he shut the door on us. I knew enough about graveyards to know that crypts like this one were soundproofed, although I had no idea why. My heart was racing in my ears as John came up to me. He smiled, but it was not kind like it was earlier. This time it was more like a snarl. He backed me up against a wall and got so close to my face, I could smell the toothpaste he'd used. It was disgusting. I tried my best to cover up my fear as he smiled even more, studying my face for even the smallest of signs. I swallowed hard. My face remained calm, yet the inside of me was screaming and trying to claw it's way out.

"You've been a naughty boy, Clark. You've been trying to make your mum dump me. Well, it hasn't fucking worked, has it?" His voice was harsh in my ears. He laughed when he saw me flinch from his question. I hated myself for showing weakness to John, a man I'd hardly even interacted with during six months. He brushed my hair from my face.

"Now why would you want to look like a girl, huh? Why would you want long hair? Don't you want to look like a boy?" His voice was all sweet and sarcastic. His eyes stared into mine, like he was trying to rip my soul from my body. I swallowed again. He chuckled and walked away from me. I exhaled heavily. John got to the door and stopped.

"You know, I could just let you out and walk away." He spoke without looking at me. "I could forget that you tried to force me and your mum apart. I could just forget about everything and get on with marring your mum, but that would be to easy. I need to punish you for being naughty, don't I? I am your father, aren't I?" He turned to me with an expecting look in his eye. He strode towards me slowly, his hands held behind his back. "Aren't I?" His voice was more menacing than ever. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I shook my head slowly, looking him right in the eye. On the inside, I was screaming and begging for my life. I knew what was coming. I didn't want it, but it had to be done. I couldn't stop him, no matter how hard I would've tried.

For a second, a flicker of hurt showed in his eyes but it was quickly drowned by all the anger flooding into him. His hands came from behind his back. He kept his eyes locked onto mine. I tried to move but he grabbed my shirt with both hands, pulling me up the wall. His face was red and it looked a bit blotchy on his cheeks. My heart was racing and my lungs were burning. I still didn't show any more fear.

"You fucking little spoilt brat! You don't deserve to have a family!" He spat in my face with every word. He slammed me against the wall, my skull cracking under the force. The pain surged through my body, every nerve going numb. Nausea swept over me. I didn't even try to disguise it this time. John smiled and dropped me to the floor. He knelt down in front of me and stroked my hair gently.

"You okay? You need to go to mummy?" He spoke in a soft voice. He didn't even wait for me to answer. "Well you can't. You'll never see your mum again! You don't deserve her!" He grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet. My vision went blurry and I saw double for a brief second. I blinked a few times. I looked at him, confused. I didn't understand him at all. He stared at me, his eyes burning into mine. I felt a sudden jolt of hatred in my stomach. Tears of anger filled my eyes. How could he say such a thing? How could he say that I didn't deserve her? My eyes stung and I felt my whole body fill with loathing towards John. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, almost completely blocking out the pain from my skull.

My hands were all tingly and weird. John loosened his grip a little, his eyes still fixed on mine. I didn't blink as I slipped from his fist, my fingers twitching slightly. John's eyes closed and he backed up, his hands to his temples.

"What are you doing to me, you little shit?" His voice was filled with anger. I stayed silent and just kept staring at him. He staggered towards me, his hands still on his temples. I reached one hand to the back of my head. It was soaked and the hair around it was matted and wet. I brought my hand back. Blood. Rich, deep red blood. I put my hand to my mouth and tasted it. I still have no idea why I did that. It tasted metallic, like coins. I lowered my hand and looked around me. Cobwebs hung down from the ceiling, dust clinging to them. I turned my attention back to John. I concentrated my hardest on him, as if trying to read his thoughts. John fell to his knees in front of me, his jaw clenched tight. His eyes were screwed up in pain. I kept concentrating on him as hard as I could. My head began to hurt right where I had collided with the wall. John looked up at me, his eyes filled with pain and suffering.

I felt no sympathy towards him as he fell to the floor of the crypt. He was convulsing violently. I didn't care, I just wanted him to feel as much pain as I did. John eventually stopped spasming so I stopped concentrating on him. As soon as I lost my interest in him, I felt weak and shaky. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I was breathing heavily, my eyes stinging as if I had been in smoke. The pain exploded through my body like a firecracker, every part on my body felt like it was on fire. I vomited on the floor, bringing up a sticky black substance. I slid down the wall, my eyelids like lead, the smell of the vomit filling up the crypt. John didn't stir at all. I wondered if he was dead. I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of there and see my mother, to tell her everything that happened. Maybe she would've believed me. She always believed me. Always. I could feel my consciousness slip away from me as the pain crept into every inch of my brain, blood making my clothes stick to me. I couldn't fight it anymore. A veil of darkness was pulled over me as I slipped into oblivion.