To The Last Parade

Prologue

This was extremely hard for me to write... this will probably be the most triggering chapter in this whole book. I am really sorry but to build up proper back stories, I must include this.

*TRIGGERS*
-Rape
-Alcohol
-Abuse

~Third Person~

Mikey sat on his porch in disappointment one gloomy afternoon, waiting for his elder brother, Gerard to return from his friend Ray's house.

Gerard had promised young Mikey to teach him to catch right after school but rather than returning home and keeping his word, he forgot and made other plans.

The small, brown haired, 7 year old boy gave up after an hour of waiting for his return. He walked back inside of the house with his baseball glove in hand and head hung. This was most certainly not the birthday he'd hoped for.

"Mama, I'm back in!" Mikey called out to the seemingly empty house. He then remembered his mother had left for the grocery store about an hour before.

The living room smelled of cigars and booze. He scrunched his face at the horrid scent and began to walk up the stairs to his room.

Portraits hung in the hallways. Mainly ones of Mikey and Gerard. The sight of the pictures made his heart ache. That was back when his brother wasn't too cool for him.

Mikey swung his door open with his free arm and fell face first on to his small bed. He began to cry into his pillow, wondering what he'd ever done to his brother to make him hate him so much.

"Michael!" a voice called from downstairs but Mikey refused to move. He laid face down, sobbing.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and approaching his bedroom door. He glanced up to see his father, Donald standing in the doorway a bit wobbly.

"What's wrong birthday boy?" he asked his son. Mikey barley knew his dad; he was always working and going places.

The young boy sat up and wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Nothing." He lied.

Mr. Way frowned and asked again in a sterner tone. He sat on the foot of the bed and pulled Mikey on to his lap. He was wearing a fancy gray suite and had a briefcase. It was obvious he'd just returned from work.

"I'm just lonely." He admitted with a sigh as yet another tear came trailing down his cheek. His father gave a concerned look.

"You know daddy gets lonely sometimes too." Mr. Way told him. Mikey could smell the familiar scent of alcohol on his breath. He remembered his mama telling him that if his daddy had alcohol, then he wasn't safe and he needed to run away.

His father always hit his mother and did terrible things to her but Mikey tried desperately to ignore it all and stay positive.

Mikey nodded as he felt his dad's hand run over his thigh, slowly moving upwards. Mikey cringed and tried to slowly get up without causing commotion but his dad held on to his arm tightly. His son whimpered.

"Daddy, you're hurting me!" he yelled, pulling away as he felt fingernails dig into his arm painfully.

"Ouchy." Mikey screamed. His father ignored him. He threw a hand up to strike the boy's face.

"Shut the fuck up!" he commanded. A red, hand shaped mark arose on his son's cheek, surely bruising. Tears came pouring from his eyes but he remained silent.

"Now, bend over on the bed!" Mr. Way ordered. Mikey was confused but did as he was asked so his father could spank him, though he did nothing wrong to deserve it.