Time Moves On (Langst)

The Past

The depths of black were at first a rather nice place to be. Calming and quiet. That is until Lance heard a door open as light flooded his vision. There stood his father in an oversized shirt with greasy black hair, he was rather glad he didn't get his looks from his muscled father. Lance looked down to avoid eye contact only to find he was currently wearing some baggy khakis that hung loosely of his 11 year old self. Still staring intently at the carpeted floor Lance felt a dull pain in his side. He had no time to question it however as he currently ran to hide the keys to his siblings rooms. If his father were to be a jerk he was not letting it happen to his brothers and sisters. "Lance, why can't you ever just be a good kid for once?" His fathers breath stunk of alcohol "your never going to amount to anything in your life. Why do you even try just go. Leave us. We don't want you, never have and never will." Words we're slurring in his mouth only making him seem more threatening.

"N-no papa I will become so-someone important! And you will be proud to to say that I am your child." I could feel my hands start to shake from nervousness and my toes start to compulsively clench.

"Shut up! You pathetic excuse of life! Who told you you can talk back to me? Was it your mother? Maybe I'll have to go pay her a-"he started walking away to their joint bedroom, when Lance placed a small shaking hand on his back.

"Wait! Papa no! I take the punishment, not mama." Lance soon realized what he had done and slowly backed himself into a corner. "I-I'm sorry papa, I know I'm a terrible child. Please punish me as you see fit." He gulped down a shaky breath "but not the rest of the familia."

"Stupid kid thought you could touch me! Talk back to me, well I guess it's your lucky day. Mama only gets 5 hits tonight. Just a reminder not to put such silly ideas in your head." His father broke the bottle of liquor he had just downed. "Now for you, give me your arms." He then proceeded to slide the glass across young lances arms. Repeatedly going over the same spots harder and harder until Lance vision started to fade. He was soon pushed back to the wall with a lively punch to neck. He could feel himself loosing air quickly and started to scratch at the rough calloused hands holding his throat captive. Three more hits to the side of the head and Lance blacked out to the feeling of blood covering him and small hands wrapping bandages around his arms.

This time when the light came back he was surrounded by 4 boys barely 16 showing off their strength by seeing who could knock Lance the furthest down the hallway. "Hey Kurt bet you can't hit him to that garbage can!"

"Oh your so on Ram, brownie you ready for the ride of your life?"

"No, not really but I don't have much of a choice here do I?"

"You have about as much a choice as your mom did when she was beaten to death by those home invaders." Lance stayed silent after that. He hated his dad but still found it rather ingenious to fake your own burglary and get more money as well as get rid of your wife. She was radiant, a beauty to all who saw her, well all but herself. Lance wished sometime that he had the same spirit as her. She fought like freedom but showed compassion like the youngest soul. But of course now she's 6 feet under where Lance would pray for weeks. Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let these dipshits know how much pain they had caused him. So he took the beating and ran off to class the second the bell rang letting the scene around him disperse into the air.

Soon it was his first day at the garrison. He still didn't feel comfortable leaving the kids alone but they all assured him they were staying at friends houses. The first thing he noticed was a shorter boy. He seemed to be Asian but what really caught Lance off guard was his hair. Raven black strands crossed his face but the majority of the soft looking hair was just paste the nape of his neck. It was pretty.
Lance could only think one thing,
'Fuck I'm gay'

Almost immediately after a new image pushes its way into lances mind. One he had dreaded seeing the most. He was sitting g on a bed muttering words to himself that he was starting to believe. 'Stupid' 'worthless' 'you will never amount to anything' 'nobody cares' he started talking to himself, do it you coward, feel the pain you deserve the pain. You couldn't protect her you deserve this, you'll feel something,something real. Do it. With that Lance had already unlocked the small box that held his razor. Within minutes his arms were numb. There was nothing more he could do to feel anything. Red lines grazed up and down where the razor had just only a few minutes ago pressed deeply.blood was oozing from some of the deeper crevices when Lance decided he needed to clean himself and the ground where he was sitting. There's no need to worry Hunk who ever since became his roommate hunk had been overtaking the role of caretaker. Suddenly a low rumble enveloped the room and Lance was reminded of how hungry he was; it had been days since he ate a proper meal. He didn't refuse to eat to loose weight, he did it because it would not only be a constant pain but also because he didn't want use up goods meant for good people.

The smell of a iron slowly disappeared  as he faded into black.