That Boy

Liar

Pain. Pain. Pain.

It's happened again. The same old people, the same old injuries, the same old everything. A kick in the face, a lighter to the hair, a pair of broken bones. It was all just the same old thing by now. It was all just another day in hell, being tortured by demons.

Yell. Yell. Yell.

It's happened over and over. The same arguments, the same fights, the same bruises. A beating for being bullied, a rope around his body, a shout from an aggressive drunk. It was how his family worked. It was all just another day of hell, being punished by monsters.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

It's always happened. The same adults, the same marks, the same 'advice'. An excuse to not help, an excuse to keep the job, a lie that they love the pupils. It was how the disgusting teachers worked.

He hated liars.

After a day of being pushed and shoved from the wall to the ground, Kokichi returned home, slowly opening the door so he could hear if anybody was inside whilst staying quiet himself. Immediately, the booming voice of his drunk father resonated through his ears.

"You fucking bitch!" he screeched, and the boy could hear something smash. Something like glass. Soon afterwards, there was a thud as somebody fell to the wooden floor, and a woman's scream of terror and agony could be heard. "You're paying for that!"

"I'm sorry!" she screamed back at him, fear obvious in her voice. It was clear that she had been overtaken by fear at this point. "I won't ever do it again! I'm sorry!"

"Shut the fuck up!" his father shouted, and footsteps could be heard gradually increasing in volume. Kokichi instantly knew that he was coming for the door, and that if he tried to make it seem like he wasn't spying then it'd make it worse. Due to this, he simply stood there, shaking, as his father opened the door wide and scowled at his presence. "It's rude to eavesdrop."

"I-I'm sorry!" Kokichi stuttered. The large man practically blocked the entrance and his tall stature made Kokichi all the more frightened. He frowned deeply when he heard his son say, "I won't ever do it again, I-I promise!"

"And you'll keep that promise, won't you?" he questioned. Kokichi tensed up at that sentence and didn't reply, paralysed. His mother, the woman who had been shouting earlier, seemed to have recovered, although there were visible tear marks on her ghostly cheeks. When he didn't receive any response, the man stated, "Liar."

The man seemed very disappointed. He searched around himself, looking for something specific, but he didn't find it and so just stepped out the way of his son. When Kokichi entered, he could feel the stare of his father burn into his back. He hates me so much, he thought. God, he'll never like me, he knows I'm a waste of space.

The boy walked upstairs with a shaking body. He knew what the man would've done if he found what he was looking for. He's done the same thing before. Usually, he'd find some shattered glass - doesn't matter where it came from - and then use it to discipline Kokichi for something he shouldn't have done. Last time he did this, a large slash was on his arm, and he could only wrap bandages that he stole around it. The nurse's office sometimes wouldn't let him inside, and he's not enough of a doctor to fully deal with an injury.

Once he reached his bedroom, he shut the door behind him and quickly searched through a bag on his table. This bag was filled with things that nobody would expect to be in something so simple.

Broken shard pieces. Knives from the kitchen. A piece of a snapped ruler. A box cutter. The sharpest pair of scissors he found. Shards he found littered on the street.