The Broken Ones (Cake FanFiction)

Chapter 1

•Luke's POV•

One, two, three, four, five, six. Six total bruises on my pale arms. All from the same man, the one that I dare call my father. I pull on a black sweater so that the long wool sleeves cover the marks. I'm standing in my room, more like cowaring considering the fact that he'll be home all night and my mum won't get back until late, and staring at the littered wall full of posters. Green day and Blink 182 posters being the most prominent, there were few exceptions such as two Paramore posters and a My Chemical Romance one that I got two years back. Also Nirvana cut out pictures were scattered around, but since I didn't have a poster and I never got around to buying one, the magazine paper would suffice.

I slump to the floor and count the bruises and scars from ealier scruffs with my father. I'm almost to 43 when a bang is heard on my door.

"Open the goddamn door, Luke!" (Brendon Urie says close the goddamn door-M) Someone shouts from the outsides. I immedietly know it's my dad. I sigh, the knowledge that I can't escape my fate burning my heart, as I open the door and am instantly yanked into the hallway by the collar of my sweater. "Alright you little bitch, let's eat some dinner," he slurs at me, alcohol hinting at his breath. He obviously had a beer or two in the last hour.

"Okay," I agree and am led down the stairs, which I am then shoved down once we reach the last five steps.

"Eat, you son of a bitch," he commands and shoves a sandwich at me. I inspect it to make sure it is safe to eat and then take a bite. After I finish eating, my dad pushes me off my stool and laughs evilly over me. "Weak. Figures, faggot," he snarls at me through yellow, gritted teeth.

Ah, there it is. The sweet old word that is always used. Faggot. It stings like salt in a wound. He calls me this because I came out six months ago. My mum was happy, and my brothers accepted me when I told them over phone since they're at University. I thought it would be okay, that it would be a picture perfect coming out. Everyone would love me just the same. No, I was wrong. When I told my dad, he hit me, causing a black eye. Of course, my mum was out of the house and when she came back my dad forced me to lie.

"How did this happen, Luke?" She had asked.

"I uh, slipped and hit my eye on the corner of the counter," I had lied.

She bought it.

Now, it's been six months of torture and abuse. Not just at home. At school as well, no one shows any remorse for me. I never ofically came out, but two assholes, Michael and Ashton, who's mums are friends with mine got wind of it and shared the news with the school. Before you know it, there are death threats in my locker and bullies around every corner. As if I don't get enough emotional trauma at home. But, I keep my head up and shine my ocean orbs and flash a glistening smile everyday. I do it because my mum always told me to stay positive when things get tough. Basically, I hide behind a stupid smile that no one acknowledges. It's harder than it looks.

A sharp pain in my ribs knocks me out of my daydream. I look down at my side to see that my dad's foot has collided with my ribcage. I try to inhale, but a searing pain makes it hard to do. The discomfort shoots waves of horrid pain through my body, rocking my soul. I let out a choked cry as a tear slips out of my eye. I silently curse myself for crying in front of my dad. "Seriously, are you my son or daughter?" He snears and kicks me again. I scream and he smacks me in the face for yelling.

Not only was my dad abusive and homophobic, he is also sexist.

I faintly hear a car door shut.

"Shh!" He suddenly shushes me and I immedietly shut up. "Your mum. Upstairs, you worthless being, now!"

I sprint up the stairs, straining to hold in a sob of pain, as I leap into my room. I can hear the conversation between my parents through my door.

"Hey sweetie," my dad says.

"Hello! Where's Luke?"

"Upstairs, you know how he his. Anyways, do you want some dinner? You must be hungry."

"No, I'm okay. I'm going to go see Luke now."

I hear my mum's footsteps coming closer so I do a check over in the mirror. No bruises are visible, no tears on my face, no blood, and a happy face. I look normal now.

My door swings open and my mum greets me with a hug, which hurts my ribs but I try to hide the pain by smiling. She asks me about my day and I say it was good, even though it was horrible. Then she gets up and leaves me in my room, alone.

Moments later my door slams open and my dad is standing in the doorway. "What did she fucking ask you?" He spits.

"H-how my day w-was," I stutter in fear.

"What did you say, you little shit?"

"Okay," I mutter and he nods.

"That's all you better have fucking told her, idiot," he threatens and then slams the door.

I decide that if I stay up longer, the more abuse I'll take so I strip off my sweater and skinny jeans and change into my pajamas. I hit the lights and curl up on my bed, my ribs aching. My heart sinks at the thought of school tomorrow, it's hell 2.0. Not many people have two hells, I should be honored. Instead I'm terrified beyond belief.

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First chapter!  Kinda short but will eventually get longer. As you can tell this book will be a lot more dark and depressing. (We specialize in this.) Hope you like this book too! We will update both of our books all summer, so make sure to keep reading!

-Jillian (casual)