Vulnerable

Seven- Andy

The threshold felt cold. As cold as the fear that surged up inside of me. I knew I was late, and I knew what happened when I was late. From nowhere I imagined Rye coming in and sweeping me up in a huge hug, holding me close and telling me it was going to be okay. But I knew how impossible that was, does someone like me even deserve a hero? I guess not.

I looked at the time on the mantle clock, 4:20. I was an hour late. Shit. I heard the heavy, animalistic tread of my father. The sound of impending doom, pain and hatred.

"You're late, again boy. What do you think is wrong with you"

"I'm sorry sir, I was shut in a locker by these boys and..." he cut me off.

"Stop whining, can't believe that I would have such a little bitch for a son" he practically screamed over me. Looming over me, just so he could look down over my head. Making me feel smaller and more insignificant than I already knew I was.

"I'm sorry sir I am" I managed to squeak at him. I was a mouse in the claws of a bear, knowing what was going to happen and knowing there was no escape.

"I'll show you what it's really like to be trapped" with that he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pulled me behind him. I stumbled, twisted and turned, trying to escape his python grip. He squeezed tighter and I begged. I didn't care about my 'dignity', I knew where we were headed and I wanted to escape. The basement. A place of haunting and fear. I place I could never feel safe. Suddenly I realised what was about to happen. He dragged me over into the darkest corner of the room. I was surprised, he never really took me to this corner, all that was here was rubbish.

In the darkest corner there was a small, unplugged fridge we had meant to throw our years ago. But it had never left. Now it was still used for storage. But more alive, the insides instead of being lines with groceries and chilled drinks were marked by scratches of desperation. The need to escape.
Signs of the love my father showed me. That was the only other time we had visited this corner of the room. He thought that being locked in an air-constricting, tight and cold box was one of the worst punishments. He knew I was claustrophobic, to him my weaknesses were a gift. All he has to do was exploit them.

For the second time today I felt myself forced into a small space. Trapped. Confined. Stuck. Helpless. Alone.

I couldn't escape, I felt my claustrophobia begin to kick in and I focused hard in breathing steadily. I felt like the walls had come to life and were squeezing me until I couldn't breathe.

I felt the night draw on, I pleaded out loud over and over again for release. I slowly felt my limbs lock and stiffen. I had even added to the scratches already on the door. Clawing at the confined space, a small animal stuck in the hunters trap.

Each time I called out, it was my father who would hear, but my words were not for him. My calls were for Rye, I cried. I needed him, I hated feeling vulnerable, when I looked into his eyes they gave me strength. The strength to endure.

Recently he has given me that look back, a hint of care. A look that made me feel like he could see straight into my soul. Of course I knew what he had done. It would be unforgivable if it was anyone else. But it was him, there was something special about him. I knew that whatever he did to hurt me, a part of me would still adore him. There was depth to those chocolate eyes and life to his springy hair. An energy that I had, once, but it was beaten out of me.

Hours had passed and the door opened, I blinked only to receive a smack that re-opened the bust in my lip and a punch that would undoubtedly deepen the colour of the black eye I have.

I scrambled out and ran, as best as I could with stiff legs, grabbing my bag as I fled. I needed to see my mum.

The hospital staff were aware of the fact I came in weekly with new bruises and they just put it down to bullies, I am positive some of them suspect my Father, but don't ask because I don't say anything. He had threatened to slip in and turn her life support off if I did. To him she was 'a dead corpse waiting to leave but stuck here coz of those damn machines'.

I ran to the familiar room where my mother lays, lifeless. But I need her here, I needed to feel her heartbeat and know her hands wouldn't be cold as ice. I gently wrapped her arm around my head and pretended she was murmuring loving things to me. Instantly I felt soothed, she was here and she loved me. I know I had to live with that monster but I had her. And I loved her with every fibre of my being. Even if she couldn't love me back.

I remembered the sun coming up and then the room getting brighter, and then I slept. Safe in the arms of my mother. I didn't wake until the nurse came in in the evening.

She told me again that my mother was healing gradually, and that each time I visited there was a brief fluctuation in her heartbeat. She told me that she would heal but they still were not sure if she would wake up.
I didn't care. I needed my mother back.

"You will wake up, one day I know you will" and I embrace her tightly.

I decided to spend the night here. At the moment my father would be drunk, and then he was at his scariest. I decided to avoid that pain. Besides I wasn't that hungry since I rarely get to eat anyways. I curled up by my mothers bedside and tried to sleep.

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Heyy everyone, at number 5 on randy. Wow. Thank you to everyone reading, it's awesome people. So read, vote, add to lists, share but most importantly; enjoy!!
Till' next time
B xx