"The White Circle" By John Bell Clayton--- Epilogue

Anvil's POV

Hello! I am sorry to put an author's note before this piece of art (note the sarcasm). Anywho, before you get to the end and think, "Why'd the crazy end it like that?!?" I want you to know that I ended it the way I did because I didn't see any point in carrying on the story. (This was originally a school assignment that I fell in love with, well the idea. This is what got me back into writing.) Now, you may enjoy ;)

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Anvil's POV

I got funny looks the whole way back to the house. I didn't understand why until I got back... My old man lept off the couch and shouting profanities at me. I just stared at him confused.

"What'd ya have ta soil yurrr pantsss for?!" He slurred. It wasn't until then that I noticed the half empty bottle of...wait, soiled my pants?!

He grabbed me by my hair when I didn't reply, "You ungrateful, worthlessss piece of crap! Go get my paddle!"

My heart sank. My stomach plummeted. Who cares how I phrase it, I was full of fear. His paddle is what he uses to "put me in my place". I trudge to the wall (yes, he puts it on display) grab the paddle, and walk back to the him.

I grab the back of the couch so I don't fall down this time. Sometimes I even go unconscious after a beating. Sometimes he opts for a more painful weapon, his whip. I have the scars to prove it. I.....

"Aaaahhh!!!!" I let out a strangled cry, my thoughts completely shut off.

"Stop blubberin!"

"Yes, Sir" I spit through gritted teeth.

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1 hour, 15 cringe worthy hits with his paddle, silent tears, and a change of clothes later, I find myself mulling over my last few minutes at Tuckers' house. He tried to kill me!!! I think. You deserved it!! I think back to myself.

"Great," I mutter, "now I'm having conversations with myself, in my head." These things always happen after a beating. I don't know why...

After a few hours of lying on my stomach on the carpeted floor I call a "bed", I finally give in and think about earlier today. I think my life flashed before my eyes. You know what I saw? Anger, unhappiness, and more bullying than I'd like to admit. Both from my father and I. I want to change, but I don't know how. Bullying and trouble-making are all I've ever known.

My dad has been beating me since mom left. Dad beat her before me. She did it to keep him from beating me at such a young age. I think she resents me for it to this day. She did leave because of me...

Tomorrow I have to face Tucker. Maybe I should apologize. I did take his apples, and beat him up. I cringe at the thought. Believe it or not, I used to be a happy little kid. Ignorant to the trouble my mom went through, until I turned nine, then mom left. Great birthday present, right? After mom left, dad's drinking got worse, so he started beating me. His own little punching bag.

Before long, my muscles relax, and my eyelids start to droop. Not long after that, I find the blissful black of sleep.