My secret: A Gift or a Curse? (Not Continued)

Chapter 3

Inside the nightclub   

Kaname 

      I left home around seven, Making sure I brought my equipment, seeing how my boss wanted to hear new beats I was able to mix together. "Hey there, son, glad you can make it. Got any new beats you can let me hear?" My boss said. I made a small smile and nodded at him before I went up on the stage where my turntables and DJ mixer is placed

Once I'm up there I get out my Apple computer on the side table and started to set up. When I'm finished I put my flash drive in and download my music.

After I finished setting everything up I started to work on my music a little. When I put beats together I started to play.

I was so in tune with my music that I didn't notice my boss making his way over to me. "It's really good!" he yelled out, making me jump, not only that because my hands were on the knobs it made me change the beats to whatever this gibberish is.

I hear my boss bust out laughing his ass off. If I didn't know any better, if he laughed any harder he would've ended up on the floor kicking his legs.

"Sorry kid--" he tried to stop his laughter "Oh kid, you is hilarious--" he catches his breath, wiping his eyes " The beat is definitely going to get the people going. I love the rhythm you have it going. Nice add of popular artist too." he praised, patting my shoulder "Nice work kid, rest a little: you still have time before the club open," he said before leaving.

I spent the remaining time chilling in the back, drinking Sprite.

[WARNING: Mention of light abuse]

I remember the day when the boss took me in. If it wasn't for him I don't even know what would have happened to me. It was about two years ago, I ran away from home when my step-bastard of an ugly excuse of being a role model, tried to take his drunken anger out onto me.

My mom wasn't home at the time so clearly he thought it was the perfect time to get what he wanted. Me.

I hope he dies in the deepest part of hell and feels tortured for all eternity. That night, of my seventeenth year I was in my room, hiding from him. The very sight, even a glance at his hair, was enough to make me throw up. I always kept my door knocked and put something in front of it: one day it's a dresser, the next a chair, hell even once I put my bed there and slept on the floor that time. Anything to prevent him from getting inside.

That time it was a dresser blocking the door, yet it didn't help. I can still hear the banging of the door. It was so hard I was scared that the hinges would fly off. My fear spiked in that moment.

That was when I realized he was drunk out of his mind. Only when he's drunk he gets like that. It's bearable when he's sober but drunk?

No.

He is completely a different monster.

He broke my door handle, my anxiety was high, and everything in me was telling me to run, get away. Anything! Something! But I couldn't. Fear left me frozen on my bed.

"Move, Move! Damn it!" is all I could do. Yelling in my head to move.

I couldn't.

He managed to come in. All I could do was stare in fear at his predatoriness figure. When we locked eyes I knew, I knew what he was planning to do and that seemed to make me snap out of my frozen fear.

I bolted out of my bed.

He lunged himself onto my bed, close enough to grab me by my shirt. I bodged his hand. almost bumping into my dresser. Running out of my room, I heard him yelling from behind. I still remember his voice.