Abused

1: Fresh Start

WARNINGS: offensive language, sexual scenes, Self harm and violence.
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He was warm. The warmth was just right- not too warm but just warm enough that it was comfy. He didn't know anything else, all he knew was he was comfy and never wanted to move. It was pitch black. He likes it that way, in fact he didn't know there was anything different, going your whole existence so far in the dark and never hearing of or seeing light... you think that life is just what it is. You don't know what you've never experienced. It was perfect: no worries, no expectations. He didn't know anything, he didn't know there was world or a society, he didn't know he would have a future. He just knew he was warm... or did he? He was subconscious, he had no conscience. No voice in his head that you get when you read silently to yourself in your mind. The one reading these very words. He didn't exist... yet.

"One... two.... three... puuuuush!" The woman pushed and pushed with all her might, and it paid off.

After 9 months of being in the pitch black, hearing nothing but muffled noises and voices and being warm, his home began to close in on him. Wait.... he was exiting his home. It was a pulling force that was unknown to him. He knew not what to do, so there was only one thing he knew what to do. Scream. He screeched with fear, as the tunnel ahead of him became brighter and brighter. He shut his eyes tight and kicked his feet as hard as his fragile frame could allow. He felt a cold presence touch his ankles and force him out even faster then he was comfortable with. It was like everything he knew was crumbling, he didn't even know there was anything outside the pitch black he'd always known.

The light hurt his eyes. That's why he kept them closed for so long... should he take a chance? He opened his fresh brown eyes, never before exposed to the bad things awaiting his future. Before he witnessed his own misery. Before he knew what pain was... he should have cherished those short first couple years, before he knew what pain was like... it became all too familiar at as young as 4 years old.

At age 2, With his mind still developing, the only pain he knew was falling on his knees and scraping the top layer of skin.

At age 3 and a half is when emotional pain became something common in his world. He knew that punishment was made to those who sinned, so he must have done something wrong? His mother wouldn't call him a waste of space or a worthless piece of shit if it wasn't true? She wouldn't slap his face if he was good, so he must be doing something wrong?

At age 7, the whip came out. She'd pull out a long whip and slash Tyler's fragile baby soft skin until he bled, but that's what you get for being bad, he must have done something.. right?

At age 10, his father came around at the late hours in the night and shake Tyler awake. He would slit Tyler's thighs with a knife until his bedsheets were stained with pools of red... but he must have done something.. right?

Tyler knew pain all too well... and he believed that he had been a bad boy. He was a terrible person.. and the fact that he believed he deserved what he was getting haunted him. He was a terrible person, and he felt so terrible. Every night, he'd hear his door creak open with a bit of light from the hallway leaking into his dark room.
"Hello, son. I want you to watch what I'm about to do to you. I hope you know you deserve every last ounce of pain you feel, you piece of shit. Now watch, and don't you dare take your eyes off of what I'm doing or I'll fucking kill you boy, you hear?"
Tyler nodded shakily, trying his best to hold back the tears of terror and pain that he shed every. Single. Night.
His father took the knife and slowly lowered it to Tyler's thighs, doing it slowly just to torture Tyler. He looked up at Tyler to make sure he didn't look away, because he wanted to make Tyler suffer as much as physically possible for just a ten year old boy. The knife sliced through Tyler's flesh, making blood spirt out and drip rapidly onto the cotton bedsheets. Tyler wanted to close his eyes tight and never open them again, but he wouldn't dare. If he closed his eyes, he would be killed. His eyes were stinging with tears filling his tear ducts, he couldn't let them drop down his face or his father would get mad, and when he was mad who knew what he'd do? Tyler wanted to be sick, he turned around to relieve his vision of what he had seen, but his father quickly grabbed him by the jaw and backhanded him across the face.
"And you wonder why your being punished, you good for nothing shrimp. You dare disobey me?? Your own father? I told you to watch, and you turned away. For that, I hope you enjoy THIS!"
He held the knife up to Tyler's neck, threatening to kill him. He knew he couldn't do that, or he would be locked up with his teachers suspecting his absence from school. The blood dropped from Tyler's thighs, as his father licked the blood from bottom to top of his thighs. He jerked himself off to the sight of Tyler's blood streaming into a pool in the sheets. There were so many bodily fluids on the bed, nobody knew who's was who. Tyler screamed in his mind... if he screamed out loud he'd be hurt even more... he was not prepared for any more pain. When his father finished the job with licking the blood clean, his mother came in with her sewing kit and ruthlessly sewed up Tyler's thighs with just yarn and a sewing needle. After his parents shut the door, Tyler would lay alone and cry to the universe. He believed he deserved what he was getting, and that damaged his soul to the full extent... he did not deserve this. He was just an innocent child.

"Hey, my names Josh! What's yours?" A little boy with Black hair and Mocha Brown eyes said to Tyler. Tyler, just sitting in his school desk alone at recess , dismissed the presence of the little boy and went back to feeling alone. He wouldn't dare tell the teachers what his parents do, because his mommy said that it was bad to tattle and he would get punished even more... and the last thing he wanted was to be punished more. He already dreaded going home that night, he knew what was awaiting him beyond the front door of their average, innocent looking home. If only people knew what went on behind those four walls they called a home. It felt more like a prison... but Tyler had no other concept of home.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

"Um... Josh.. I kind of want to be alone.."

"Nonsense, were 10 year old boys!! You shouldn't be here all alone, come have fun and play soccer with me and my friends!"

Tyler was in no position to turn down people who care about him, he was so alone in the world, but he couldn't play soccer. In fact, he could barely walk from the injuries to his thighs and couldn't wear soccer shorts, or his scars and stitches would show.

"I... I don't really like soccer. Maybe some other time."

"Suite yourself!"

Tyler was desperate to make friends with Josh, he seemed like the nicest person he had ever met... besides, everyone he knew either hurt him or teased him for being so anti-social.
Josh was.... different.

(Authors note)

So I will work on part 2 right away, it may take me a couple days to publish but until then hope you enjoyed part 1:)