Walking His Path

The First Blow

(5 years later)

Jonathon sat in his room looking at a book. It was pouring rain outside. His door shuttered making Jonathon jump. He got up slowly and walked over. His hand touched the cold knob and he pulled open the door. His eyes widened at the horrendous scene playing in front of him. His mother was pressed up against the wall his fathers hands gripped tightly around her neck. He slams the door shut and bites his cheek.

Not again. Please not again.

Jonathon had been through these situations multiple times. His father had not hit him before but it was unbearable to see his mother being abused by him.  He knew he had to do something. He had to stop his dad before it went to far. He wouldn't be able to keep quiet again if they took another visit to the hospital.

Scrambling to get up Jonathon swings open the door and races down the stairs. He waves his hand trying to get his fathers attention. Even in his drunken state he was able to notice his son. He released Jonathon's mom and started wobbling towards him. Jonathon took a few steps back his eyes were full of terror. 

"What ... gonna .... stupid ... boy." Jonathon could barely make out the slurred words his father said. He shook his head trying to tell his drunk dad he couldn't understand, but soon didn't care as his father took his first swing at him. Jonathon dodged to the side and let out a yelp. He began to cry for his mother. He tried to sign to her but she wouldn't move. She just lay there in a lump on the floor. He felt himself being tugged back by his shirt. Jonathon turned his head and met his fathers gaze. His hands scratched along the floor but he could not prevent his father from pulling him away from his mom. His father stands up towering over young Jonathon. He stretches out his hand.

"I'm so sorryy mer boy." He says. Jonathon slowly inches his hand forward. He stops and hesitates looking back at his mom. he places his small hand in the large one. His dad jerks him up to stand. Jonathon winces and takes another step back, cautiously.

"Ssorry ... that hurt." His dad says. Jonathon's fear turns to confusion as his father gives him a toothy grin. Before Jonathon could react he feels a burning pain on the right side of his face. It felt like a brick had smashed against him. It felt like his skull was throbbing from the impact. His vision starts getting blotchy as the ground rushes towards him.

When he opens his eyes again he's laying in his bed.

Jonathon looks around trying to figure out how he got in here. Was it a dream? He wonders. He lifts his skinny hand to his face. He bites his cheek as the pressure to his face stings. The pain ensured it was most definitely not a dream. This was the first time his father had ever gone as far as to hit him.

Please be gone. Please don't let father be here still. If any gods do exist please don't let him be here.

Jonathon continues to plead anyone to help him, to help his mother. He squeezes his eyes shut but can feel tears gathering in them. He feels the first one slide down his cheek. He can no longer help himself and feels a wave of complete misery flood him. He shifts onto his side and clutches his blankets. His tears run over his lips the salty taste of them would remain in his memory forever along with the guilt of feeling like it was his fault for his fathers actions.

If a god won't help me my mother must. She will get us out of here.... she has to.

He sees the door knob turning and quickly wipes his tears, mentally preparing himself in case it's his father. Instead he is greeted with the soft round face of his mother. Upon seeing Jonathon she runs over to his bed relief settling upon her. She sits on his bed and cradles his head in her arms.

"My sweet baby are you okay? Does your head still hurt? Do you feel dizzy at all or do you need anything to drink?" She rambles on asking questions but Jonathon ignores them. "Mum are we gonna tell someone?" All of her questions came to a cease at just one of his. "Jonathon, baby I know this is hard to understand you're still so young but we... well we can't. Without your father we'd be on the streets or in a homeless shelter. We'd have nothing." 

A pang strikes Jonathon's chest. He feels another tear slip out and moves away from his mum. 

"Hun please don't be upset. Your father really does love us. He just.. he.. he has some issues he has to work out. We all have issues this one is just his. He will get better." Jonathon was most sad that his mother actually believed what she was telling him. She loved her husband with all her heart and was not ready to give up on him... even for the safety of her child.

Seeing the pain in her sons eyes she tried to cheer him up, "Your aunt ad uncle will be coming over tomorrow! You love your uncle right baby?" Jonathon nods his head. "It's dark outside.. I think I am gonna go to bed." He signs. "Oh, okay. Sleep tight okay J? I love you get some good rest and i'll see you in the morning."

That night Jonathon never set one foot out of bed. He feared if he got up to get water or go to the bathroom his father would be waiting for him. He was scared that if he made too much noise his father would hear. So he lay in the dark whimpering trying to hide his cries before eventually giving into the sweet escape of sleep.