~History Repeats Itself~

Chapter 7

It occurred at a place different from Whipstaff at a time long ago, when Stewart McFadden was a twelve year old boy himself, when his three younger brothers looked up to him as they always would. Their father was returning home late that night, much to their fear. Every minute that ticked by on the clock only elevated the tension that was already built up throughout the home. As soon as the man bursted through the door, Stewart could clearly tell that he had a drink too many, as everyone in town was aware that his father was an angry drunk. Nervousness spread on the faces of his siblings despite trying to focus on their current activities, whether that included reading or playing a board game at the moment. But Stewart couldn't help but to quietly observe the man's actions upon walking through the door. He had already carelessly flung his coat up on the coatrack, and impatiently kicked off his shoes while throwing down his suitcase. Then he looked over to the four boys grouped closely together. “What're you looking at, huh?!” He said, throwing in a challenge to his oldest son.
“I ain't looking at nothing, sir..” Stewart mumbled, eyeing the floor nervously.
“You take me as nothing, boy?” The man approached him and yanked his eldest son up by the arm to stand him up. “And look at me when I talk to you!” Meanwhile the younger boys watched in horror while their father took their oldest brother by the chin, forcing him to make eye contact. However the boy instinctively slapped his dad's hand away, rubbing his pained chin.
“That's it, you've asked for it now!”
The other boys whimpered fearfully while they watched their father grab a bat that was leaned against the wall. Stewart was frozen in fear and his whole body shook uncontrollably while bracing himself for a beating. Just before the man could raise the bat, his youngest brother bursted into tears. “Don't hurt him, Dad!” Nine year old J.T. had begged.
“That's the problem with you kids, thinking you can be all defiant and get away with it..” Their father then approached J.T., while Simon and Felix clung to each other with terror. Stewart couldn't bear to allow his favorite sibling to get beaten, especially for trying to save him. “Hey, Dad! Why don't ya pick on someone your size?”
“Why don't I teach you a lesson now for back-sassing me?” He turned back around and sent the bat crashing down his eldest son's ribs. The boy then gasped and almost lost his balance, but was determined to not let his father win that easily. But the man was persistent, he continued to beat the boy until Stewart was bent over in unimaginable pain. He felt the hot tears building up in his eyes, but he dared not to cry. A few moments later he fainted after taking a blow to the head. Unsure of how much time had passed in the meantime, when he opened his eyes again, he could see that he was lying in bed and surrounded by his younger brothers, despite his vision still being blurred. J.T. was bandaging his head while Felix was carefully wrapping his stomach. “Wha..what happened? Ya alright, boys?” Stewart murmured.
“Shouldn't we be asking you that?” Simon arched an eyebrow.
“You didn't have to do that, Stewart..” J.T. added softly.
Felix ended up accidentally poking one of his bruised up ribs. “Oops, sorry Stu..”
“Yea watch where ye’re putting that..” He replied, flinching in pain. “Ugh, my head's pounding.” He moaned quietly. Then Simon placed an ice pack on his forehead to provide him some relief. “He hurts you more than he does us..” J.T. mumbled sadly, looking to the floor with guilt.
“Hey, it ain't yer fault!” It's cuz he hates me, but that's okay, cuz I hate him too..” Stewart replied bitterly. “Yea, we gotta be sure we don't ever get like that.” Simon agreed.
“Listen boys, if we have kids one day, we're gonna make sure we treat ‘em well, ya hear?” Stewart pointed out. Him and his brothers all nodded in agreement that day.