Dread and Memories

part 3

WARNING: Child abuse, alcoholism.

Derek was trembling, endless tears streaming down his face, but was unable to wipe them away, a petrified look lay permanent in his milky eyes, and his son Eric, who was next to him, holding him down, couldn't do anything about it. "P-Please p-pops. I'm r-right here p-please."

"I would n-never hurt m-my boy!" Derek whimpered, shaking his head.

Eric stared at his father, his shoulders hunched over slightly, staring at his father with wide eyes. What was he dreaming about?

Derek's eyes snapped open, staring around only to freeze. He was in a small living room that was trashed with used plates, clothes scattered everywhere,  and beer bottles cluttering the floor. But this wasn't just any living room... it was childhood home.

He backed away in fear, horrible memories starting to flooding his mind of living here... with him. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he bumped into something cold, prompting him to turn around to see a mirror hanging on the wall, but what he saw in the mirror left him staring slack-jawed. Staring back at him was a little boy, around 9 or 10 the same shocked look on his features. 

It was him when he was younger and he lived in this house around that age. He backed away, looking down at himself, in confusion.  Why was he a little kid and why was he here? 

He began to speak, his voice sounding higher and less deep. "What's g-going-?"

"DEREK!"

Derek froze from hearing the voice knowing that it was. "D-Dad?!"

Suddenly that front door flung open hitting the wall with a loud bang, causing Derek to yelp in fear, turning to the door to see his father standing there, looking at him in anger with his red bloodshot eyes, clutching an empty beer bottle before throwing it close to Derek's head.

Derek let out a scream tensing up as the bottle crashed right next to him. He began to panic, tears leaking from his eyes as he stared at his father. He was back... back in this hell, living with a poor excuse of a dad, one that considered him as a disappointment.

"Don't you ever embarrass me like that in front of company ever again! They're gonna think I'm raising a fool!"  He snapped before storming over to Derek, taking off his belt.

"No... no p-please!" Derek whimpered as he backed up, his back hitting the wall, watching as his dad drew near. This couldn't be happening, this just couldn't.

"This will fucking teach you little shit!" He growled as he yanked Derek by his arms, wacking him in the back with the belt, leaving red marks.

Derek let out a scream of pain, tears streaming down his face as he tried to pull away. "NO P-PLEASE STOP!" Derek cried desperately but yelped when he was slapped in the face.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He gripped the belt and his arm tighter. "You brought this on to yourself!"

Derek squints his eyes, feeling as the belt hit his back, his skin beginning to blister, but after a few seconds of this his eyes snapped open in anger. "No." He growled, before spinning around, glaring at his father who was about to strike. "NO!"

Derek caught the belt with his hand as it was about to hit him, the strip of leather wrapping around his arm as he yanked hit from his father. He then pushed his father, watching as he stumbled back hitting the green rug floor with a loud thud. Derek growled as his grip tightened on the belt, beginning to age back into his normal age as he reared the belt back and whacked his father with it, hearing him yell in pain, but he ignored his cries hitting him again, again, and again.

Derek was ballistic, remembering all of the times that he never fought back, how he let him hit him, treating him like he was nothing. But not anymore.

"DON'T!" WACK! "EVER!" WACK! "DO THAT!" WACK! "AGAIN!" He yelled in between hits.

"D-DAD! DAD P-PLEASE!" 

Derek froze in mid-air, the belt dangling in the air and brushing against his arm, his angered features dropping, looking at the cowering figure in front of him, realizing that it wasn't his father anymore. He slowly looked down, to see two prosthetic legs, of which one was broken. In his father's place lay his son Eric covering his head with his arms, trembling, his clothes tattered and his arms red, almost like he was hit with a... belt... by his belt. He looked at the belt before feeling something in his other hand. He turned to it finding an empty beer bottle in it, the taste of beer filling his mouth causing him to cringe in disgust, realization striking him.

Derek began to tremble, watching as his son sobbed into his arms, hiding from him. He backed away, dropping the belt and beer bottle hearing the belt clutter and the bottle smash at his feet, causing the boy to flinch. "N-No."

"I'm s-sorry I-I-I w-won't d-do i-it a-again." Eric sobbed, squinting this eyes shut. 

"I knew it." 

Derek's head snapped up, looking ahead to see his father walk out of the shadows, a vile grin on his face. "Wh-what?" He breathed, his breath smelling of booze.

"I always knew you would end up just. Like. Me." He darkly chuckled.

Derek shook his head as he backed away. "No... No, No,... NO!" Derek cried, clutching to sides of his head as tears streamed down his face.