Frozen inside (Kellic)

chapter 2

Vics pov--

He looked so stupid. I mean, seriously the guy looked liked a confused kindergartener who was confused on how to wrote his name. And it was an easy equation, too. I think he's in math eight because he's literally doing eighth grade math and that's so hilarious to me.

I sigh, is he really counting his fingers? I tapped him on the shoulder, it just annoys me when people don't think, like you have head, use it. But I'm taking a chance here, he's an athlete, they're pretty popular...Oh no..Why am I getting nervous all of a sudden? it's just a guy; just a guy, right. He then looks at me from the corner of his eye, as if I'd broke him from thought, " You'd have to divide sixteen by both sides, and since both sixteen and sixteen would cancel each other out, your  left with sixteen divided by four, which is four, and you'd have to divide  four by four to get x." I say to him, hoping he learned something.

He gazes at me with wild eyes, "how did you...?"

I laugh nervously, as I shrug, " I'm in algebra." I said, trying not to stare into his eyes, they're  a deep green color.

I wonder if he notices me at school? "Dude, you new here? I haven't seen you before?" he replied, aaaand of course, he's Kellin quinn, what was expecting? A yes? doesn't matter, I have better things to worry about than if a popular kid accepts me or not. I'd have to deal with the nightmare of going home after this detention.

I shrug, as I gave him a sarcastic answer, and the counselor then shut us both up and I was glad, I can't stop focusing on my schoolwork. I need a scholarship so I could go out of state to college. Kellin means nothing to me...I think.

_______________________________________________________

I open the front door to my house, and I sigh as the thick smell of alcohol fills my nose. He's been drinking again; great.

I gaze at my drunken father as he lies across the faded blue couch in nothing but his boxers and a bottle of vodka in one hand, and marijuana in the next. He coughs a bit, as he opens his ancient eyes.

He grunts, as he gets up, throws the glad  bottle to the floor, and shoves me out of his way, as he heads elsewhere. "Where the fuck were you, Victor?" he shouts to me, from the kitchen. I sigh, not another beating, please please please not another one. The fear jumps from my heart to every single nerve in my body. Is he going to hit me today? Or whip me with his leather whip the used once on a horse. Or is he going to kick me until I fracture a bone like last time.

I watch as he appeared in front of me, with a whip,  a deadly grin plays across his lips as he eyes me carefully, I begin to tear up, as he gets closer.

And before I know it, I feel a hard, jarring pain strike against my face in arrestingly painful torture. He then kicks me relentlessly in my ribs, tearing at my lip, I watch as I feel blood.

He then pulls me up from my hair and gazes at me in the eyes, I look at my father, "I asked a question, ya' prick." He spat out at me.

I then sob, "detintion-"

He then throws me to the floor, "why were you there? Was it because of you being such a faggot you gay piece of shit!!"

"N-n-no, d-da-dad." I cried, as he slapped me once more, I cringed in pain.

"your mom should've never let you play with dolls," he chuckles, "that's why I killed her." He says, to me.

"Now suck my dick." He commands me.

I then shake my head, "no! No! DAD PLEASE NO NOT AGAIN-!" I shout, but he kept fighting me, and I knew that I had to do it.

Again.