𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 |-/ rarl

I

"I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! FUCK YOU!" jesse's voice echoed upstairs, before ron could hear another ware broken against the wall. and more screaming.

ron closed the cabinet door to look at himself in the mirror. he sighed in front of the broken image then looked down at his fists, they would still hurt for hitting the glass. 7 years of bad luck, that's what they say.

whatever. he didn't know what it meant to be lucky, anyway.

he grabbed the small jar of pills over the sink to read the label. across the door, more screaming could be heard.

"I COULD BE LIVING THE DREAM LIFE RIGHT NOW IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU AND YOUR STUPID PREGNANCY!" his father, pete, yelled before hitting the wall. or jesse's face. ron couldn't tell.

"IT WAS YOUR FAULT I GOT PREGNANT!"

ron opened the jar and watched as the pills slipped down the drain. who the hell does the doctor thinks he is to tell me what to take?

a few minutes later he would be reading his brother a sleeping story that personally he found stupid, but they always made sam sleep a little better. ron needed to read out loud so sam could listen through his parents voice.

"so the boy, whose now was a real boy, returned to his father, and they lived happily ever after in the toy store-"

"IF YOU HATE ME THIS MUCH, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!"

"DO YOU THINK I HAVE A CHOICE? I'M STUCK, I'M DOOMED!"

"... the end." ron said as he hugged sam a little tighter, covering his ears for one moment, while jesse and pete kept shouting curse words.

"what happened to the talking cricket?" the young anderson asked. ron closed the book and sighed.

"he... idk, he moved on with his life. y'know, giving other boys the advice they needed."

"do you think i could find one?"

"what? a cricket?"

"a talking cricket. to give me advices i need."

"nah, i don't think so" he confessed, watching sam's face turn to disappointed. "but it doesn't matter. i'll be your talking cricket. i have all the advices you need. and i have magic hands, watch out!" he said before starting to tickle his brother, sam laughed out loud before his mother screamed louder. "here's your first advice: go to sleep. now."

ron straightened the blankets and putted sam to sleep, wishing him goodnight.

"tomorrow is another day" he promissed.

"will it be different tomorrow?"

ron looked for words while his parents would still fight.

"maybe" he whispered. "good night, sam."

he said goodbye with a pat then left the room. on the corridor, he rested against the wall to hear his mother begging for mercy while pete would pull his hair and slap her. ron still had bruises all over his body from the last time he tried to stop him.

"LEAVE ME ALONE, I'M CALLING THE COPS THIS TIME! LET ME GO-"

"SHUT UP, WHORE! IT'S YOUR FAULT I'M LIVING IN HELL!"

"YOU'RE THE DEVIL HIMSELF, PETE"

ron scratched the cuts on his arm and thought alone he should get a salve or something.

once he left his house, he forgot the bedroom window open. but there was no way he'd stay there.