The Pain, Redux(Ivy x Abused Male Reader Rewrite)

4: Closer and closer

  The lecture room door stood in front of you, and with the way you felt, you almost saw the purple Menacing Kanji(ゴゴゴゴ) around the door. The past day had your parents get into deeper and stronger alcohol, which in turn strengthened their urge to hit something. And with you being in the house, your parents had tunnel vision.

  Your sleeves were almost not going to be enough to block the cuts you had, and blood was getting close to showing on your uniform, in which case you would have to skip school to try and get it out, worsening Ivy's mood for leaving her to work on the project, leading her to hit you more, which would likely make you late to come home, which would probably make your parents mad, and start the cycle all over.

  What a life you led.

  You turned the doorknob and walked inside the lecture room, supplies in hand, ready(ish) to get to work. Ivy sat in the front row today, walking you work. You fashioned your chair so that you were facing Ivy, to see anything she threw in advance.

  You worked, making sketches of the human body to try and map it out, while avoiding the occasional paper ball.

  Near the end of the time you had to work, you slid a scrap piece of paper across the table, and leaned back to take a breather. As you took a deep breath, you caught sight of Ivy, who had looked up from her phone. She opened her mouth to say something, before her eyes locked onto something. In that moment, her expressing changed from a mundane 'I have no reason to be here' to one that was hard to describe. You looked at her for a moment, then down at the table. You caught sight of what she saw, and froze, before looking at your hand.

  One of the injuries you sustained was a cut on your arm from the sharp end of a can's lid, from a Can you had forgotten to put into recycling, which got your parents mad. Sometime while you were working, the cut had reopened, and blood from it had dripped down your arm, and onto a scrap piece of paper. The same scrap paper that you slid across the table. You looked at Ivy, then at your left hand. Blood was running down it, dripping off your pinky, onto another sheet of scrap paper. You almost panicked, before doing the first thing you thought of.

  You grabbed all the paper that had no use, including the scrap paper, and crumpled it into one big ball, which you threw at the recycling bin near the rooms entrance. It bounced off the lip and into the bin. Using your right hand, you collected all the paper as fast you could, while Ivy watched.

  "Im going home." You spoke up, your voice a bit shaky. You swallowed, and before Ivy could respond, you were out the door.

As you ran home, clutching your hand, all you could think was 'I blew it. I screwed up. This is gonna be the end. I'm dead. My parents are gonna kill me if anyone suspects them.' Among other, more colorful words. You continued running, not looking behind you.

When you reached home, you reached for the knob, before your hand twitched back. You paused for a moment. Your parents do just wait at home for you. What if you....

You shook the thought out of your head. After 5 years, you learned pretty quickly that there was almost no hope. You tried running away maybe 4 of those years ago, but your parents practically went on a manhunt, pretending to care for you. You almost died the day they found you.

  You sighed in defeat and opened the door, careful to not get hit with any flying bottles. True to your thoughts, a bottle hit you in the gut, and fell to the floor, breaking into a few pieces. You grunted from the impact, trying to regain your breath when your mom shouted.

  "Your father wants meatloaf for dinner! Hop to it!" You could only nod as you picked up the broken pieces of the bottle, throwing them into a garbage can before getting to work.