It's a Nightmare

Chapter Two

Lucas

I felt the wounds in my flesh appear each time Father swung down the blade. Once on my chest, once on my stomach and once on my collarbone.

The stinging tear of the flesh was too much for me to bear. I hoped that it would be over soon. I deserved these beatings, but surely I would soon be punished enough.

Blood began to trickle out of my wounds, blending into one another, forming one puddle of blood on the ground.

My arms covered my head; my knees bent of their own accord. I prayed to whoever was out there for Father to stop.

Then he did. I felt myself being yanked to my feet by the scruff of my neck. Father forced my head up roughly by the chin and made me meet his eyes. His rough, glaring, grey eyes that neither my siblings nor I had inherited.

"You do not crouch down or try to block out my beatings. These are for your own good. Understand me?" Raw power flowed into his voice. Rough, angry raw power.

"Yes sir." I said, telling myself to keep his gaze.

"Good." Father let go of my chin, then pointed upstairs. "Go clean up your wounds. Then go to bed. Tomorrow, you will have to clean up all of this blood. You better hope it doesn't stain."

I nodded briskly, then went to my room.

I quietly closed the door when I got there and went into the adjoining bathroom, silently thanking Father for letting me have this. I guess he didn't like seeing the blood that he caused.

I pulled out the first aid kit that I had stashed away under my sink, then I pulled out the secret cell phone I had stashed in a wall compartment.

I quickly texted my best friend Farkle, letting him know that I needed stitches done. Then I walked over to the window.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a blob-slightly blacker then the night sky- make its way across our dry, cracked grass "yard".

Keeping my footsteps as silent as the dead, I slipped downstairs, opening the front door. My best friend, Farkle Minkus, stood on the threshold.

Father didn't like Farkle. He thought that he was too smart alecky for me to hang out with. So Farkle and I had to be very quiet when he came over.

Farkle took one look at my gaping wounds. He didn't double take; his jaw didn't drop open. He didn't even flinch.

Father had caused me some seriously horrible injuries over the years that Farkle had been my best friend, especially after he had caught Farkle in the house.

That was why Farkle and I had to be very quiet. Luckily for me though, Farkle was a first aid whiz.

We leaped softly up the stairs, as gracefully as panthers and completely avoiding the squeaky ones.

Once we were in my bathroom,
Farkle bit his lip and poured antiseptic on a cloth. He applied one to the chest and collarbone and told me to hold it. He then pressed a cloth to my stomach for a few seconds before wrapping it tightly with bandages. Then, the same thing happened with my chest and collarbone.

"They're not too deep. You won't need stitches."

"Thanks man." I said gratefully. "I'll be dead if it wasn't for you."

Farkle nodded, "I still don't understand why you can't call the cops."

I sighed, "I told you. I can't. If Father went to jail, my baby brother and I would most likely be split up and we'd be sent to foster homes. I refuse to let that happen. You know what happened with Claire, Lillian and Jax... I need to take care of my little brother."

Farkle smiled and nodded briskly, "Alright then. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Okay. Be careful when you leave." The door shut quietly.

I started to clean up the first aid supplies and stash them away in the large first aid kit.

Then I went to lay on my bed- or rather, my mattress with one dirty, ratted blanket and pillow.

I started to worry about my brother. Where was he now? Who was with Father at the door earlier tonight? Did I know them? Were they going to treat my brother right?

Enough Lucas, I scolded myself. Just ask Father about it tomorrow. Maybe he'll tell you. If not, I'm sure you'll be able to find out yourself.

With that thought, I blew out my single candle and fell asleep.