Behind Bruises [MH/ Creepypasta Story]

Building up Boxed Memories

The rain tapped each inch of the window of Toby's new house. He stared at the boxes across the room which was very small. One dresser, half a bed about twin sized, and one single window right smack in the middle of the back wall, and in front of him laid a closet door and half torn plushie of a rabbit. He was scared to death of that rabbit and wouldn't lay a hand on it, sometimes it watches him at night.
Toby again didn't take his eyes off the boxes across the room from him, about 5-6 boxes maybe 7, his father wasn't done unloading the van. He peeked out the window that didn't have blinds just yet, he could already see the man wobbling tipsy like, Damn there wasn't a day where he didn't go without at least 6 drinks..
The boy hopped off the small bed and traveled over to the boxes. He had a idea on how he wanted his room to be arranged like, and he was gonna try to match it. Toby ripped open a small box and began to unpack one item at a time. Taking out notebooks, pencils, pictures, picture frames, pillows, blankets, lots more.
He stumbled across a family picture and remembered his mom staying back at his old house to wish it goodbye..she would be at the new house in just a few days...but a few days would be enough to come back to a mangled up course of her son..H

e was scared to death, literally just thinking about it made him shake, shiver even. Toby sat the picture aside staring at it before continuing to unpack the boxes until he got down to the last one, there was nothing but old clothes and even some that were never returned to his sibling. He couldn't bare to open it knowing he could break down at one sight at a belonging or picture even that belonged to someone that he once loved in his life, and the only one that really even loved him. Instead of opening it, he picked it up with a struggle of his weak legs, he walked over to the open closet and pushed it up onto the top shelf. After that, he started with the small stuff like pencils and papers and began to organize a small desk on the side of his bed, setting a small flick on light at the corner of it, a notebook in the middle, and cup of pens and pencils at the side of the notebook. He was quite impressed about the room so far, but the heartache of that box resting upon that top shelf made him wanna throw up. Speaking of throwing up, he couldn't find his pills and in desperate need, they were in the hands of the parent himself. He was scared to approach the father in many reasons and one Is that he didn't wanna get hit again. Toby adjusted a pillow upon the bed before crawling up onto it and sitting criss crossed, he listened to the silence of the room and the front door downstairs slamming shut. His father must be done unloading the van and as he thought correctly, he saw the van drive off down the road from his window. Toby leaned to the window and sat his hand upon it as he sighed, the hot breath hitting the cold window making it fog up where raindrops laid and dipped down.
"It's gonna be all right" He mumbled to himself as he heard from down stairs a curse word.
"or all wrong.." He mumbled soon after.