A little too broken (boyxboy)

Chapter 20

Chap 20

It didn't work. It had been for weeks and Andrew was now a mix of unresolved bottled up fear and rage. He let it my bubble under the surface in fear of an outburst. He though seeing his father like this would make him feel better, would magically cure his anxieties, but he was just reminded of all the things he resented about his father.

It was a Saturday and his mother had work so it was his turn to take care of him. He was in the kitchen currently waiting for food.

His mother had taken so much food care of him. Making him all these special meals and blending them. Washing him. She's even talk to him sometimes. Nothing intimate but nothing malicious either. So far Andrew had managed to avoid helping him. All he did was give him panic attacks.

As Andrew walked in he saw him. There he was. Wheelchair and neck brace still somehow managing ti be the most frightening thing in Andrews life. Everything was silent. Andrew was remembering everything that his father had done to him.

When he was in year six his father broke his ribs. Gave him a black eye in year 7. Split his lip in year eight. Broke his arms in year nine. Punched the hole in the wall in year ten. Gave his mother that scar under her right eye. Left her and bruised and scarred. Split her lip as well. Chocked her. And all that time they covered up for him. It made him feel ill just thinking about how he his mother made him hide it all from everyone who asked about them. He just pretended to be a clumsy child. The staff at school were so neglectful they believed him.

Since he had arrived the voices had gone into over drive. They wouldn't stop telling him how pathetic he was. He kept having panic attacks because he had an irrational fear his father would find some way of abusing him again. He was also frustrated because he had all these repressed emotions that he didn't know how to let out. Mostly all of it made Andrew angry. It all set him off.

As he looked at his father he couldn't stand it. He had to say what he had been needing to say for so long. So he snapped.

"speak up. C'mon speak up. What's that? Cmon, speak, up! That's right you can't can you. You know what's funny is it took a car to break your jaw to have you finally shut up. It took the mention of you name to have me scared silent. How does it feel to have you ribs shattered. Do remember when you did that to me in 6th grade. I do! I remember it like it was just yesterday and it still hurts to breath. You know when I offered to take care of you, I just couldn't get over how ironic it all was. Now your the helpless one. Now you know how it feels to be pathetic and weak. I have you and I hope you rot in hell like you deserve. Especially for all the shit you put us through.

Mum was a wreck after you divorced her. You beat her and were unfaithful, but you had the audacity to leave her. And she wanted you back." He spat out that last part.

"You ruined me."

He felt pathetic for saying all these things to a man in a wheel chair but he couldn't hold back. He ran to his room and the voices wouldn't stop.

'Kill yourself'

'Your pathetic'

'You're disgusting'

'Nobody loves you'

These were all the things his father had said to him as a little boy. He was not only physically abusive but emotionally abusive as well.

These were the only things running through his mind. He tried to calm himself down but he couldn't breathe. His breath was shirt and fast. His chest felt closed up. His eyes began to blur. He felt like he was about to die and he wanted to.

All of it had become too much. The voices, the bullies, his anxiety, his father. He had held in all theses feelings and they were all coming out now. He began to sob violently and looked for what he felt he needed the most right now. Pills.

He felt like his world was crashing in on him. Like everything was empty and too much all at once. His mind was racing so fast it wasn't moving at all. He was at the end of his rope and needed a way out.

Maybe his death will be like those beautiful tumblr photos. He'll be remember through quotes on dark backgrounds. He imagines his funeral. All the songs they'd play.

He found them in the dresser in his panicked haze and went to his bathroom. He took as many of the pills as he could.

That was the last thing that happened before everything went black.

He woke up a few hours in a hospital bed to see heart monitors and a nurse going to tell the doctor that he was up.

His mother was the first person to enter the room. It was clear that she had been crying.

"Why?" She barely got out.

"I'm sorry."