Breaking

I Know I'm Not Alone

"Leo, there are people out there whom you can reach out to; you are not alone. I for one would be more than happy to help." Leo's hand gripped harder on the handle, to the point where it was turning white.

"I know." Leo slipped out the door.

Leo, being one of the last to get questioned and measured, was able to go home not long after that. As he walked up the driveway to his home, he kicked at a stray rock that lay in his path, while simultaneously playing with a lock of his dark hair.

He entered the house and made his way up to his bedroom, dragging his feet up the stairs, his eyes glazed and unseeing of the world around him. Leo, once closing his door, plopped down on the floor and lay there. His gaze was turned to the ceiling, but he didn't see it. The dark-eyed boy was experiencing something else entirely. A soft gaze, a warm embrace, a motherly caressing of his hair; a sentimental melody rung in his ears. An image of his mother's smiling face as his child-self looked up at her seemed to now be etched in his mind. A ghost of a smile graced Leo's lips once more.

A loud bang suddenly echoed throughout the house, startling Leo from his reverie. Slurred curses and jumbled footsteps mixed with the sounds of frantic maids. Leo peeked his head out the door to find his father stomping towards him, but something was different... off. The way he walked wasn't in a straight line occasionally causing him to bump into the walls, his cheeks were red. As Cornelius came closer, Leo was able to detect the stench of alcohol on his father. Leo's dark eyes widened- his father never got drunk. Cornelius was always the type to have complete self-control, one of the reasons why there were no scandals around him despite being a central figure in the world of show-biz.

All of the effects of being drunk rushed into Leo's mind as he tried to figure out what was best to do. He wouldn't be able to escape out of the house now, the best idea would just be to hide in his room and wait. Since Mr. Young had never been drunk in front of Leo, it was impossible for him to know what kind of drunk his father was. Leo knew he was screwed.

The doorknob to his room soon began to shake and jerk as his father attempted to open it, but being in the state that he was, he eventually just busted down the door. Leo huddled in the corner, back pressed against the wall as hard as he could. His father towered above him:

"S'thass where you were you lil bastard." Cornelius grasped Leo by his hair and yanked him up, a yelp escaped the boy at the pain. "Imma gon make you pay, you murderer." Leo's body quaked at this threat, and for good reason too as he was soon slammed against the wall. Pain instantly began to throb in Leo's back. His father kept tossing his son as though merely a rag doll stitched together to relieve his anger. Mr. Young, in his drunken rage, no longer cared whether he bruised and battered Leo's face. Throwing became punching, leaving Leo no time or ability to defend himself from his father's barrage. Punch was landed after punch, forcing a cry out of Leo's sore throat.

As the cry reached Cornelius' ear, he grabbed the boy's throat and held him up in the air. He saw the tears that glistened in Leo's eyes, threatening to spill over any minute.

"Whachu crying for bitch? You, if you hadn't been born, your mother would still be alive and at my side to this day! It's all your fault! Give her back! Give my wife's life back you murderer!" To this point, Cornelius had just been shaking the boy as his grip around Leo's throat grew tighter, but after calling him a murderer, "You should be the one that's dead!" From somewhere, probably Leo's room, Mr. Young had gotten a razor blade and was now brandishing it like a knife. Leo doubted that in his drunkenness Mr. Young even recognized it to be a razor blade and not a real knife.

Leo was helpless as Mr. Young clutched his throat with one hand and pointed the blade with the other. Leo kicked out his feet, desperately trying to get out of his father's hold, but it was pointless. The boy eyed the blade with terror as images of all the things his father could do popped into his head.

"Oh, how I've longed fir this you demon; I can't kill you sadly, but I c'make you wish that you wa neva born you mongrl." Mr. Young began to slowly drag the razor blade against Leo's pale skin, smiling at the sounds that his ears received in the process.

"Why?" Leo whimpered.

"What'd y'say?" his father growled. Leo mustered up the courage to say something, to speak up. He wanted to change.

"Why do you do this?" Leo gasped out through his father hold, "I don't deserve this!"

Cornelius suddenly dropped Leo on the floor- the dark haired boy groaned at this- the father stared at his own hand in disgust before proceeding his kick his son in the chest, face, and everywhere that he could.

"You deserve this! S'your fault! You n'yur dumb sstuffed animal! If t'hadn't been for your selfish want, then my wife wouldn't 'ave gotten killed! You damn demon! Everything that happened s'your fault!" As he yelled, Cornelius' kicks became faster, harder, and more painful. Leo was surprised that his father hadn't broken any of his bones yet, even with the precision of his kicks being low. Yet even with all of the abuse that came his way from his father, something shown even brighter in his consciousness: He didn't deserve this.

His father eventually went on his way, leaving Leo a bloody and pained mess. Leo groaned again, he didn't know how much he could move in the condition he was in. That's when those words surfaced to his mind, "You are not alone," with a new look of determination burning bright in his eyes, Leo dragged himself, one bit at a time, while surge after surge of pain plagued his body, to grab his phone.