Savage (An Oikawa Story)

Reality Has Not Been Kind To Me

edited (May 25th 2020)
trigger warnings- domestic abuse, unstable family life

Your POV

On the walk home the wind sends a gentle breeze through my hair, boosting my good mood and distracting me from what's yet to come. My day has actually been pretty great so far, despite the tragedy that occurred in first period. A whole quarter sitting next to Oikawa of all people... I'd rather be bombarded with Makki and Matsukawa's memes.

"If that idiot screws up our whole entire project, I swear I'm going to kill myself for real this time." I mumble, instantly reverting back to my usual pessimism. Every point counts towards my grade, so we better get full credit.

As I near my destination, I can't hope but- well, exactly that- hope. Maybe it'll be different this time. The day was full of good omens, after all. I got to school right when the sun rose, made good impressions on my teachers, and was placed next to the window in two periods. These little blessings piled up and resulted in an oddly good day.

So maybe, this time. Maybe I'll come home and everything will be different.

But when I make it to the front steps, a loud scream pierces the afternoon silence. My mother.

She lets out a wail, followed by a string of curses. My father.

He's probably drunk already.

I crack open the front door, peeking inside to assess the situation. "Mom? Dad?" They're standing on opposite sides of the first floor, facing off in a parental showdown. No, scratch that- just a showdown. I don't think they consider themselves parents.

My parents ignore me and continue to hurl colorful insults at each other. I hurry to shut the door behind me, hoping that no one overheard the tell tale sounds of verbal abuse.

Ah, hope. What good has it fucking done me?

I silently pray that the abuse remains verbal, but I know better than to rely on chance. That's all hope is; something for us to believe in.

"Go die, bastard! I know you're seeing that slutty secretary of yours. Do you really think she loves you? She's only in your bed for the money!" My mom shouts from the living room. At the kitchen table, my dad downs a glass of wine in one gulp. With a jerky motion, he slams it onto the tablecloth.

"So what? At least she has a pretty face." He replies lazily.

"Oh, you've done it now you ignorant piece of SHIT!" My mom screams, marching into the kitchen to slap his face. I wince, trying not to stare as my dad's face turns a deep shade of pink. I used to cry out when the attacks first began.

But I'm older now, so I got used to it. I had to.

My dad slowly rises from his chair, wine glass in hand. I wish he would yell in pain, maybe call my mom a whore or something- nothing's scarier than silence in this house. He turns to my mother, his eyes bright with rage. I try to peel my eyes away from the familiar scene, but cannot.

They're my parents, goddamnit. I am entitled to what goes on in this house.

My mother brings her hands up to her face, not in defense, but surrender. "No, don't!" she whimpers as he approaches. "Not glass!"

Crack!

It's over in a split second. My dad kicks my mother one last time before watching her curl into a fetal position, a sinister smile on his face. Blood trickles down her forehead from a cut left by the wine glass. "Go to bed, whore." He says tiredly. They both storm to their separate bedrooms, slamming the doors behind them.    

I wish I could say this was an irregular occurrence; that my parents actually love each other most of the time. But I would be lying, and I'm too tired to lie at this point. The house is eerily silent without them tearing each other apart, but it doesn't calm my frantic heartbeat.

Silence is the scariest thing in this house.

As I stand alone in the entryway, I have to bite my lip to keep from sobbing.

This is temporary. This is temporary.

If I repeat it like a mantra, will it come true?

God, I wish this was Disney. Then at least one of my parents would be dead, right? I chuckle to myself, using humor as a crutch. Being savage has its perks- sometimes I manage to cheer myself up.

So what if my dad is a cheater and my mom isn't much better? At least he's wealthy and gives me an allowance.

Does doing the household chores while simultaneously maintaining high grades mean I'm weak and complacent? No, it's exactly the opposite. I'm a fighter.

You're all you have, Y/N.

I wipe my eyes and force myself to smile. "This is just your current reality, Y/N. When you get a full scholarship to college, you can start a new life. Away from your parents." I begin the long walk up the stairs to my room, ignoring the sobs coming from one room and the cigarette smoke seeping from the other. "Don't you dare screw this up for me, Oikawa." I whisper.

If I want to leave this house, I cannot afford any errors.

A/N: Upon editing this chapter, I've decided that Y/N is a likable character! I both sympathize with her and want to protect her. Hopefully you guys feel the same, but hope is a fickle thing, isn't it?

HOPEfully (lol) I portrayed domestic abuse in a more realistic manner.