*Emory's POV*
"What is this?!" My father screamed in my face, holding my report card in his hand.
"My report card, sir." I answered.
"Speak up!" He yelled, again.
"My report card, sir!" I answered, my voice growing louder.
"And what is this?!" He pointed to a B- in my Physics class.
"A 'B' minus, sir!" I answered, my voice still strong.
His hand swung, leaving a palm print on the side of my face. As bad as I wanted, I didn't cry. I choked the tears down. Men don't cry.
"Was that not enough for you?!" My father yelled in my face, his hand swinging again.
I felt a tears start to fall, but I wiped it away before he could notice.
"Still nothing, hmm?" He said, slapping me one more time.
My face was now burning.
"Nothing lower that an 'A' or you'll be punished further!" He said, one more slap contacting my face.
"Sir yes, sir!" I answered as loud as I could without letting the tears fall.
"Good!" He punched my gut. The impact of his fist caused my knees to give out and my body to fall to the ground.
I laid there, clutching my stomach.
"Get up and go away!" He yelled, kicking me as hard as he could when I tried to get up. I fell right back to the ground, but got up as fast as I could manage and ran out the front door. I slammed it behind me, sliding my helmet on and climbing onto my motorcycle.
As I sped down the road, I choked everything back until I reached the one place I felt safe; my old elementary school. It was abandoned now, but all the good memories I had were from the time I spent here.
I liked to come here at night and think. I felt free. Sometimes I would write stories or poems, but I mostly spent my time swinging. Before my mom died, she would push me on the swings at recess every day. She used to teach at this elementary school. She died in a fire that was started by a gas leak in her classroom. From that day forward, the building was considered a fire hazard and a new elementary school was built. Since then, I've come to this playground as often as I could. It felt like the only thing I had left of her.
As I swung, letting the cool, crisp air sooth the burning of my skin, I heard a voice from behind me.
"Excuse me?"
I set my feet on the ground and stopped myself. I stood up and turned around to see a girl.
"Excuse me, umm, you don't know anything about cars do you?" She asked, her curly hair bounced as she stepped closer.
I shook my head softly, "No ma'am. Sorry." I dropped my head so she wouldn't see my face.
"Do I know you?" She asked softly.
I looked up, not thinking about what I was doing.
"Oh my gosh! Are you alright?" She asked placing her gloved hand on my cheek.
I winced, "Yeah... I'm fine." I looked back down at my feet.
"Your dad?" She asked me.
"How did you-"
"The size of the hand print. It's too big to be a woman's and at your age, older brothers would be moved out and younger ones wouldn't have big enough hands." She answered before I finished my question.
