I'm Wally West || One Shot

I'm Wally West

Thank you so much for all of y'all's comments and vote on this story. Also, this is  ONESHOT, so there will NOT be a sequel to this.

I am in no way supporting child abuse by writing this. Child abuse is nothing to joke about, so please, if you ever find your self in that situation please get help.

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I'm Wally.

Wallace Rudolph West.

The Kid Flash.

And I'm invincible.

You see, it all started when I became Kid Flash. When I got my powers, I was so excited to work with the Flash. To be just like my idol. It was truly a dream come true. It was my dream.

However, being a speedster isn't exactly what my dad wanted me to be. In fact, it was the exact opposite. My dad hated Uncle Barry, and when I became Kid Flash, side-kick to the Flash, my dad was furious. He was furious, because I was becoming just like my Uncle Barry. He was furious, because I was spending all my time with my Aunt and Uncle. He was furious, because I wasn't following his dream. All in all, my dad was just furious.

The first year of becoming Kid Flash, my father accepted the fact that I was going to be a speedster. I thought he was finally going to accept who I am. He did. Just not in the way that I had hoped for. He accepted the fact that he can beat me until I'm black and blue and not show a single bruise the next morning.

It wasn't until after New Years when my dad came home drunk off his ass. He stormed into the house throwing his keys and phone onto the coffee table that was in the living room. He knew I was up. The light that came from the open fridge gave it away.

"Wallace West! You get over here right now, boy!" He screamed at me. I walked out of the kitchen quickly finishing the sandwich I had just made.

"Yeah, dad?"

He didn't answer me. He just glared at me like I was the most hideous thing he had ever seen.

"Dad?"

My head jerked to the right as his fist made contact with my left cheek. I was confused. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't.

"That's what you get for being such a useless son. Go up to bed and don't come down for the rest of the night you h're!"

I ran all the way up to my room. I was glad that my mother had the night shift that night. I wasn't sure what mom would do if she found out. Would she stand by and watch? Would she stop Dad from hitting me? For the rest of that night, I laid in bed contemplating what just happened. My dad never hits me. He was drunk. That's it. My father was drunk.

When morning came around, I slowly made my way downstairs into the kitchen where my mother was making breakfast. She had made a huge stack of pancakes just for me. I loved my mother. I'm just not sure what to feel for my father after what had happened that night.

"My god. Wally! What happened?" She exclaimed when I had sat down at the kitchen table. Leaving her spatula on the counter, Mom came over to examine my face. Her comforting hands on my face almost made me forget what had happen last night. Almost. I just didn't want this moment between us to end.

"Me being clumsy. I came down last night for a snack, and I couldn't see where I was going," I lied. I didn't know why I was lying. I just knew that I couldn't just tell her that Dad hit me. I quickly shoved my mom's hands off of my face and grabbed the stack of pancakes that she had just made.

"Great pancakes, Mom," I said changing the subject as I took a bite out of the pancakes. She slowly turned back around to scrap the burnt pancake off of the pan. I could tell she didn't believe me.