Summer with The Bad Boy

Chapter 27: [Josh's POV 2]

Author's Note: SO SORRY FOR THE REALLY LATE UPDATE!! BUT HERE IS IT ;) 

Dedicated to: ivegotthatonething12 :) :) 

Story Quote:  "I've had it before but I wonder if it brings back too many bad memories."

Chapter 27

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JOSH'S POV

 My eyes fly open immediately. I flicker them from side to side. I don't move. I feel stiff, because of this stupid lounge and the position I slept in. I sit up but cringe but I feel a sharp pain through my neck. I rub it and settle back down. The hall door is open. My father must have gone to the pub or something, it wouldn't surprise me, but I needed to ask why I was here before I lash out and attack in anger. I decide to stand up and rummage through the piles of junk on the floor to see if I can find the knife again. I kneel down on the stained carpet and search through a pile of old clothes and take away containers until I find it. I wipe the dust from it before standing up and stepping over to the kitchen, kicking the wall on the way. It crumbles into a small hole. This place is already a piece of crap anyway. I'm surprised its still standing.

I open the fridge. Nothing, except for old and rotting crap. I try the cupboard. Chips, chocolate, biscuits. No proper food, but it was better than nothing. I pull out the packet of plain chips and turn around. I almost drop the knife and packet. Far out. There he is, standing in the door way. I roll my eyes and push past him. 

"Still got that knife," he remarks, following me back to the lounge room.

I don't say anything. I just flop back onto the lounge and he sits in the single chair, like he did last night.

"Is it for protection or are ya cutting yourself?" He slurrs.

I flash him a look, clenching my jaw. He starts coughing. It's moist and dirty. He wipes his bristly mouth with his dirty sleeve. His face is red, sweaty and drunk. The bags under his eyes are a heavy, jet black. 

"Neither," I lie.

But yeah, its for protection. He could become too drunk and go mental. 

I open up the packet and shove a handful into my mouth.

"Got anything to drink? Other than contaminated water from your crappy kitchen?" I mumble, once I've swallowed.

He reached down to the floor and pulls out a bottle of beer for himself before chucking one at me. I catch it just in time before it smashes against the wall. .  .or worse, me. I shrug and then he throws me the opener. I flip the lid off before chucking it back at him. I smell it. I've had it before but I wonder if it brings back too many bad memories. I tip it up and take a long swig. 

I finally decide to talk to him before he gets too drunk.

"Why am I here?" I ask sternly. 

He pulls the bottle from his mouth and looks me in the eyes. 

"T-to get some sort of revenge on ya mother," he mumbles. 

I feel my stomach churn uncontrollably. Revenge? I take another big swig from the bottle. 

"W-what do you mean?" I ask. 

He sits forward. 

"Ya know, just go in and steal some stuff. Look what she did to me!" 

He was starting to get angry now. 

"LOOK AT WHAT SHE DID! SHE JUST THREW ME OUT, JUST LIKE THAT!"

He throws his bottle across the room and it smashes against the wall, falling to wet shards. He sighs angrily before reaching down for another bottle. I continue drinking mine.

"Why should I?" I growl.

His eyes narrow in anger.

"I'll bash ya if ya don't!" He returns.

"Yeah well, I'm used to that aren't I? Why do you think I don't live with her anymore!" 

My breathing becomes rapid and loud. I can't control it. 

"Got any proof?" He sneers. 

I just exploded. He's really done it now. 

"You want proof!' I yell, standing up. 'YOU WANT PROOF? WELL, HERE'S SOME PROOF!" 

I drop the almost empty bottle onto the lounge and storm over toward him. 

"THERE'S THE PROOF!" I repeat. 

I show him all my scars from where I was abused. I show him the ones he gave me too, just to remind him of the bad he did. I spin around and stomp back to the lounge where I swallow down the remaining liquor in the bottle. There's a moment of silence once I collapse back onto the lounge. 

"I don't care. . . YOU'RE STILL DOING IT!"

I thought I'd settled down, but that last comment just made everything worse. I can't control my anger. I grip the bottle hard and raise my arm, sending it straight for him, but it shatters on the wall behind him instead. He ducks anyway and turns around to see the damage and when he turns around, I turn weak once again. When I think about it, I was always weak against him, I just tried to look good and not weak, but I suppose it only worked slightly. Just the look that clouds his face is frightening and I feel like . . .I don't know. Afraid? If I'll admit. . .

He crosses over to me, my heart is pounding and I could be sick at any second. He reached for me but I am helpless against him. He grips my shirt with both hands, I reach for the knife but it's too late,  he's already got me. He pulls me up and smashes me against the wall. I crash with a loud thump and cringe at the pain throughout my back. I raise my hands, trying to fight against him as he throws strong punches to my face and body. I manage to get him once but thats nothing. The taste of blood fills my mouth as it runs from my nose and my lip. I manage to get him again, to his chest. I push him and he stumbles backwards. I try to run and I'm able to get past him but I trip and he lashes onto me. That's the last I remember. . . 

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So sorry for the late upload!!
But here it is :)
Hope you like the second part
of Josh's POV!! MORE OF
HIS TO COME!! :)

Tori98 <3