u p h e r e ↬ m.f. & s.m. [completed]

HELL

Thur. 4th October 2016

  "The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear."

-Philip K. Dick, VALIS

Mark stared at his father, his salty lips opened in disbelief. He could feel his stomach turning like a ragged rat which somehow registered light at the end of the rotten tunnel it had to call home.

Yet there was no friendly light at the end of Mark's tunnel, more likely there was a deadly, red fire burning. The pits of hell were opening and he himself was on the path that led to them.

"But I gave you $200, why can't you pay the fucking rent?" He tried to keep his voice calm but didn't succeed. The face of the man in front of him turned angry.

"Because it's not just the fucking rent we need to pay, you and your brother want to eat, too. You want to get new clothes and you want the TV to run every day and the oven."

Mark rolled his eyes but silently admitted that he was right, at least partly. A small sigh escaped his dry mouth. "So, what are we gonna do? I can't magically get us money."

"Well then get your lazy ass UP and work for it. I don't know what you did before and I don't care but it was more than you get us now"

He flinched as he got even sicker to his stomach. "I shouldn't even need to get my ass up and work. I shouldn't have to help to pay this shithole."

In the distance, he could hear his brother pushing a door open, to peak-trough and listen closely. He hated it when people were getting angry, but then again who doesn't?

"But you can't choose, or do you want to move out? Because I don't." Again his father took a step towards the boy, tapping with a finger on his chest. The sharp breath cut trough the sticky air and the scent of alcohol filled it.

Normally Mark would back off. Yet he leaned in closer, his father's face and his only a few inches away from each other now.

He could feel the pressure building up, pushing him into the ground and his heartbeat went faster "It would save hundreds if you could get your fat ass to quit drinking and smoking." He hissed.

The last thing he saw was his father's expression changing to the worse, before a hard fist met his face, leaving his cheek burning red.

A new chapter opened, something he never wanted to happen. He was sure that hell was closer now but he didn't dare to look into its face in front of him.

The emotional pain weighted more than the physical pain and was harder to get rid of, too. He turned away leaving his father alone, panting once again.

He went to his brother, who still peeked trough the door, to pick him up and bring him into Mark's room. Softly he sat him down on the old bed. "You stay here, okay?"

He held the little boy's head between his hands, stroking his hair softly with his thumb. The brother nodded a little and Mark tried to smile.

Yet his smile had a crack in it and his eyes were filled with tears. He wanted to cry but he could not afford to let the tears cross his cheeks.

So he pushed this smile on his face.

"I'm gonna go out for a few hours, okay? I'll be back soon but until then you don't open this door, okay?"

He let go of his brother's face and put a small key into his hand. "You need to lock this door as soon as I'm out, you got this."

For the whole time, his brother stayed silent and it broke Mark's heart to see him like this. Yet he didn't break down, but nodded and locked the door as soon as Mark left.

***

The streets were dark and a feeling of sickness approached to the young boy as he walked down a path that was way too familiar. He had wished for the memories to leave his mind and never come back, yet here he was;

the dark surrounding him, only a few dimmed street lights peeking trough the night and a small foggy cloud of his hot breath that was vanishing in the cold air, was all that there was. For now, he was alone.

He went down a rigged path near the fast food restaurant he once visited with Jack.

And now there were two things in his mind he actually wanted to forget. It's funny how things change. A few days ago, he was sure that he never needed to do this again, yet here he was going down this road once again. A few days ago, he was sure that he needed Jack in his life, yet here he was, wanting to forget his existence.

He went down the road further and a few noises were getting noticeable.

He took one deep breath and was now standing next to some kind of club.

He was just waiting and his chest felt like exploding.

He did not have to stand there for long and soon a familiar face approached him.

And it should not be the last one he was going to see this night.

Fr. 5th October 2016

With shaky hands Mark tried his best to fit the key into the door of his apartment, he nearly burst out into tears as he failed for the third time "C'mon please..." he whispered and tried again, unfortunately, the door did not seem to be affected by his begging voice.

"Fucking shit!" he cursed in a strong voice and rammed his foot against the wooden door in front of him. He let out a sigh, about to try it again as the door opened and his father was standing under its frame.

Mark's cold eyes met his, which were still filled with burning anger. He pushed the older man aside and was about to make his way into the kitchen as he felt a strong grip on his shoulder.

The man turned him around, as he breathed out heavily and a strong stink made its way to Mark's nose. "Where were you?" The father hissed, his grip tightening around his son's shoulder.

The kid could feel the lump in his throat and the tears burning in his eyes, so he decided against talking. A fast grab into the pocket of his jacket and he pushed something against the bare, hairy chest of his father, who was surprised and let go of his shoulder.

Mark made sure that he hold onto it tight, before he turned away in disgust, feeling his eye pulsate.

He could hear the small gaps of his father as he realized he was holding around $300 in his hand.

***

His brother was not asleep, as he assumed. He told him that he was too worried, too frightened. And something inside of Mark died as he heard his brother speaking like his soul was already broken.

He surely wanted him to have a good childhood. One where he did not notice all the bad things that were happening around him. And Mark felt like he failed at his job like he messed up everything as he heard those words from the kid's mouth.

He sounded so innocent and peaceful, yet Mark could only assume what really was going on in his head.

He just wanted him to be happy.

For once Thomas had no problem with sleeping in the same room as Mark, nor in the same bed. He hugged his brother as tight as he could as if he feared for him to fall off a cliff.

Mark never wanted to be weak, actually, he always thought he had to be strong for the people around him, who needed him. But now it was his turn to be weak.

He just hoped Thomas would not notice him crying. 

***

So

What do you think?

I feel bad lmao