Just a lil thing: Scott is about 10 at the time all this happens
Scott's p.o.v
I laid on my bed, covered in bruises from head to toes. I could hear my mom sobbing in the living room, but I was too afraid to leave my room. I could have woken my father up and I didn't want that. So I laid there quietly, kind of worried since tomorrow was Friday. Weekends.... they were awful... Well at least my mom was home as well but it didn't make things much easier. For me, possibly, but every time she said a word against my father... I didn't want to see that. I was scared.
-timeskip to the morning-
I woke up from the small sound of my alarm clock and jumped up, tiptoeing downstairs, doing my best not to wake my father up. Once I got downstairs I was greeted by a warm yet tired smile from my mother. I hugged her tight and she hugged me back. I couldn't understand... why wouldn't we just leave? Tell the police and the would take that... person who called himself my father away. But I guess I just didn't understand.
I had a small breakfast, my mom gave a kiss on my forehead and I huried out of the front door and towards the school. It was a pretty casual day, I was all alone and all that but it was a lot better than being home. I was always the 'weird, ugly kid'. I had old partly ripped clothes, which my mom had repaired the best she could. I wasn't good at any school subjects really, except for P.E. I was good at that but I hated it. Besides, I was full of bruises and I had an eyepad on my right eye. That was the reason my mom started cutting my hair so it would cover the right side of my face, just to see if other kids wouldn't bully me about it so much. It didn't work but I liked my hair anyway.
When the school day ended I started walking home, worried as always. My father was most likely drunk again. I opened the front door, tiptoeing towards my room so my father wouldn't hear me coming home. Well -he did anyways. "SCOTT?" he yelled from the living room. I gulped and slowly walked to the living room "U-uh, hey dad" I smiled a bit. He was drunk... again. How surprising. He snapped his fingers and said "Go get me a new bottle *hic* from the fridge, kid!" I walked into the kitchen and got him a bottle of... well whatever it was. "Not this you stupid kid!" He yelled angrily and threw the bottle at me. The glass broke and made several cuts on my chest. Why wasn't mom home... she would have done something! I ran out of the room and locked myself into my room "Don't run away from me you brat!" I heard my father walk up the stairs as I hid, shaking. Luckily the phone rang and I heard my father answer it "Yes?!" For some reason he went quiet and... was that crying I heard? He slammed the phone down and walked to my door "open the door. Now." He said angrily "it was your fault, y-you fucking spoiled brat! You were too much trouble for her!" He managed to break the lock on my door and open it. I was bleeding already because of the bottle he threw on me. I was hiding under my bed quietly but he grabbed my ankle and pulled me out of my hiding place.
Later I laid on the floor, every part o my body hurt. My father beated me up worse than he ever had. I almost hoped that I would have died but no -I was still alive and breathing. I just laid there... No idea for how long. When I finally managed to get up I just flopped down on my bed, falling asleep immediately.
My dad didn't tell me what happened. A bit later I found out my mother hd commited suicide. After that happened.... my father beated me up even worse. And one regular day I came home from school, I heard him calling for me from the living room. He was drunk again but.... seemed different. He smashed the empty beer bottle on the floor and grabbed me. I yelped, closing my eyes and waiting for the beating.
But there was none.
Instead he pushed me face first towards the wall and pulled my pants off.
I would have preferred him killing me.
I'm sorry 'kay? I'm a horrible person I know. But I DID WARN YA. I dunno, I like writing horrible stuff. Makes me feel better about my life, heh
~Swolfia
