A/N: Uncapitalized letters on purpose. Only the prologue will have capitalization off. :) Hope you enjoy.
TW: Abuse
//
the wind was blowing harshly outside of the brightly-lit house, the crisp air showing no signs of compassion as it pecked at the boy's pale skin. he had no jacket, already regretting not bringing one to school that day.
his eyes were burned out and rimmed in black, as if he hadn't slept in days. the bickering with his older brother and parents had gone on for too long. he feared how long this would go on. he raised his head to the shimmering navy sky, the moon beaming down on the boy. he felt his chest envelope in hope, and a smile crept upon his lips.
the fighting would stop soon. he knew it would.
he had one more block to walk down, and he knew he'd be home. after living in his house for the thirteen years of his life, he should know where it was by now.
the dark brick house came into view, although not many lights were on. the pale boy shrugged. it didn't matter. he was grateful his parents let him stay over at a friends yesterday, well, have a sleepover actually, and he had to come home a bit late since his parents didn't want to pick him up. he also wanted to spend some more time with his friend, so it was basically a win-win situation.
he walked up the steps, arms crossed over his chest and brushing his arms to try and stop shivering. he was about to place his hand on the door when he heard a bang and a crash. his eyes widened and he hesitated for a long while. he was scared.
the boy placed his ear up to the door, heart beating faster and faster.
"martyn, you imbecile! first you come home late and now you defy your own father!" he heard his mother scream at his older brother, who was in high school. he must've snuck out again.
mustering his strength and hoping the anxiety didn't literally spew from his chest, he grabbed a hold of the door knob and entered the house.
it was a complete mess.
the furniture was disheveled and knocked over, and the house seemed gloomy. he could hear his parents yelling at his brother.
there was a moment where there was no noise and hushed whispers. the boy, almost in tears but staying as strong as he could, peered out from the living room into the dining room and kitchen, which was all open space that connected to each other. martyn had a defiant look in his eyes as he faced his mother and father, who were looming over his brother.
"is phil here?" his father asked, looking around. phil's heart race sped up and he dug his nails into his skin.
"i heard the front door open," his mother replied.
martyn still stared at his parents, bracing himself as if his parents were going to hit his older brother or something. they wouldn't hit martyn, right? martyn was smart and he was fifteen years old, he knew how to handle himself. he could call 999 if he needed to.
suddenly, his father turned around to look at phil. the thirteen year old boy was horrified to see the state his father was in. the man's eyes were bloodshot red, and the smell of alcohol wafted off of him. he was wasted. his mother seemed to be following her husband's orders, and a grin spread wide across her face, although she didn't seem the least bit drunk.
"ah, phil," she spoke in a malicious tone, her eyes narrowed, but a dimpled smile still unfolded on her cheeks. "it seems you've come to join the fun."
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