The Boy On The Other Side Of The Wall- Analogical

5~Starve~5

Trigger Warnings: Mental and Physical Abuse

Logan creeped along the hall, making himself as quiet and as small as possible. Don't get caught. Was all he was thinking as he crept down the stairs, it definitely being well past midnight. A low growl could be heard. Though Logan didn't panic, knowing full well it was his stomach which was aching with a hunger that never seemed cease. He snuck quietly into the kitchen, unable to keep his hunger from getting the best of him. See, Logan hadn't eaten in at least a few days and his stomach was crying out at him to eat something, anything! So here he was, sneaking into the kitchen when he thought his parents were long since asleep.
Logan took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves. They're asleep, stop worrying. He thought as he carefully opened one of the cabinets. He found a small thing of bread and immediately started reaching for it. His hand freezing half way there when he heard someone clear their throat. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
"What are you doing, Logan?!" A voice, a barking, harsh voice of his father yelled, a glare burning into the side of the small boys head.
"U-u-Uh." Logan stuttered out, looking up at his father, terror ripping and tearing at his insides like a caged animal.
"Answer me, you fucking idiot!" His father, Jamie yelled at Logan. "And you better not fucking lie. You know how your mother and I feel about lying."
Logan slowly closed the cabinet, tears blurring his vision, and fear coursing through his small, skinny body. I'm dead, oh god I'm dead. He thought as he struggled to try and get any words to leave his mouth.
"What? Can you not talk now? Are you that idiotic?!" Jamie yelled, his hand gripping Logan's upper arm tightly, too tightly. So tightly it hurt.
Logan knew better than to pull away. "I-I-" He wasn't able to get the words out. Idiot! Just talk! It isn't that hard!
Jamie rolled his eyes. "I know exactly what you were doing, Logan!" He snapped, shoving the boy back. "And you know it's wrong."
Logan stumbled back, his back slamming into the kitchen counter. He gasped softly, though kept himself from crying out, like he so desperately wanted to do. He crumbled to the ground in defeat. He had accepted it. There was no way out for him. No way to avoid this pain, no way to avoid this punishment, no way to avoid his father.
Jamie growled, his expression full of annoyance and anger.
A foot connected with Logan's side
A fist connected with his head
A knee connected with his stomach
An elbow connected with his nose
A foot connected with his already severely indented shin
A fist connected with his throat
Logan was left laying on the floor of the kitchen, bruised as tears ran down his face, knees pulled tightly to the shaking boys chest. God I wish he was here. No, Logan Stone Stop, he's not coming back, he doesn't care. He thought to himself, unable to get himself to get up.
Jamie growled at him again and went to kick his face.
Logan sat bolt up right in bed, his hands going to his mouth before a terrified scream could escape his lips. He silently broke down into sobs, that he never let anyone else see, he never let anyone else see him like this. Except hi- Logan Stop. He abandoned you.
Logan curled up tightly, his knees held close to his chest as sobs ripped through his throat. He felt pain shoot from his shoulder and down his arm as he moved it, only then being reminded of his injury. That only caused him to sob harder. He was overwhelmed, he couldn't breathe, he needed to breathe. He tried to suck in air, but was unable to through his hysterical and panicked sobs. He only panicked more at this, his hands going to his hair, pulling at it, hard. Calm down. Logan Stone calm down, it happened 4 years ago!
Logan couldn't calm down, starting to feel faint and lightheaded from lack of oxygen to his brain. B r e a t h. He finally managed to suck in some much needed oxygen. He curled up tighter, hugging his blanket around himself, trying to feel some comfort. He sobbed a bit harder. 8 years since s- Stop. Thinking. About. That. Logan.
Logan didn't calm for several hours, his clothes, blanket and bed soaked through with tears. He was curled up now, weak and exhausted. "Why....me?"