(in this story, people still have quirks, but they can't use them legally unless they're a pro hero or training to become one. they don't go to school to become hero's, it's set in a regular high school)
warning!!!!
abuse, starvation, abuse, and more abuse!
izukus POV
i was sitting on my bed drawing when all of a sudden i hear a crash. i instinctively hide my sketchbook in my wardrobe; not like it was used for anything else, other than a razor, an all might shirt and a hoodie i guess. i sit back on my bed and wait. and as expected - my mother. i call her mother instead of mom because i feel like that suits her more. she is... distant... unless she's beating me.
"Izuku~ my dear boy~ where are you hun~" my mother says, clearly trying to be discreet. she only used that tone when she's about to give me the beats. to anyone else she sounds like a caring, kind and innocent mother. but that's just to throw the neighbours off so they don't report her again. "IZUKU~ let's play hide and seek~!" i gulp and slide behind the only thing in my room other than a broken mattress, my wardrobe, and hid. i knew not to hide inside it, as that was always the first place she checked for me.
"5..." she says
"4..." another voice said, my father
"3..." my mother....
"2..." my father...
"1..." my mother..
"here we come, izuku" my father adds menacingly.
i instantly slow my breathing, concentrating as hard as possible to not let any sobs out. i was obviously crying, but i was sure to stay silent. i had ways to cope and keep me silent: scratching, digging my nails in my arm, biting my lip or hand. i had ways.
i hear my door slam against my wall. "izuku... hey bud... i know you're hiding in here. if i don't find you within 1 minute... punishment wont be so severe this time" he says. i instantly think of last week. that hurt me, even now i'm in pain...
one week ago...
i was tied to something, sitting on the ground with my back resting on a wall, and i was blindfolded. i instantly feel a breeze and i knew i wasn't wearing a shirt.
"oh, izuku, so timid, broken down~ hmmm hmm hm" my mother said, sickly sweet as if it were a nursery rhyme. this rhyme was almost sang from deep in her subconscious; as if she had no idea she was singing it.
my father then took the time out to finish the song with "oh, izuku, don't worry~ i can break you more~" i feel something sharp slide up my chest, opening wounds and creating fresh ones. "ahh... owww" i say, trying not to feed into their need for my pained noises. i then feel another one on my cheek, right below my blindfold. it slid down, creating a large cut from my cheek to my neck, then tracing down my collarbone "s-stop...."
"what did you say?" my father says
"were those words of protest i heard?" my mother chimes in, as if she were about to scold me. what came next was way worse.
i feel a sharp, aching pain in my arm, then another in my leg. i expected it to move, or at least leave, but nothing. my mother says in a vile and cold voice "we will leave those in for.... 3 hours. let's see if you're still alive then."
"deal! i bet he only makes it 1h 30m before he passes out!" he says as he chuckles. "oh, you probably wanna see this, yeah? let's see, guess where you are and i'll pull off the blindfold. if you get it right, i'll let you out so you can go to school. don't forget, you have your first day next week. you've never gone to a real school before, so you wanna be in best health" i could feel him grinning through his teeth at this point. "i'm in the basement." i say, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. "ding ding ding! you're right. and who says i never take proper care of you?" he says in an almost bragging voice. he took off the blindfold and left, locking the basement door. i could hear the car pull viciously out of the driveway, i'm guessing they're out for the night to go drinking again. as if they weren't already drunk out their minds. i look down to see 2 knives, one in my lower leg and another in my arm. i instantly break down and sob. "i-if my own f-f-family can do this to m-me.... what is school l-like....?"i thought aloud.
. i guess you should know more about my back story, huh?
my name is Izuku Midoriya. i'm 15 years old and i've never been to a real school. yeah, i'm not allowed to leave the house. ever. i'm not allowed to eat until instructed or unless i sneak something. currently, i haven't eaten in 8 days. i pass out often and can barley stand up without a support. i sway whenever i stand without one and i fall quite regularly. if i do anything: breath too loud, cry when hit or raped, (yes, i get raped) or do something mildly wrong, i get punished.
i haven't been outside in.... i'd like to say 7 years? but i don't know. the only enjoyment i get is out of drawing, and i only have 1 sketchbook left. when i was younger, i stole 20$ from my mom and snuck out. i bought as many sketchbooks, and a few notepads -strictly for recording my daily abuse- from the dollar store as possible. i bought 15 sketchbooks and 3 notepads. it was the best thing i've done for myself. my mom never found out about that, and she never will as far as i'm concerned. my bedroom is pretty much empty, aside from my wardrobe i'm currently hiding behind, a mattress and a metal prison bar guard on my window. just a small reminder that i'm not allowed to leave. i'm hated by my family for being small, and weak. my mother can't go a day without reminding me i'm useless, and father just wants me to know i'm pathetic and a waste of space.
back to the present
i steadied my breathing and stopped everything i was doing. at this point, i just wanted to avoid punishment. i was counting in my head, being sure not to mumble. mumbling is a bad habit of mine. i mumble to help me through problems and sometimes i just slip into it without realizing until it's too late. "60! that's a minute. i guess you've won. if you come out right now, i won't beat ya that bad you know, izuku" my father says, trying to be what he considered 'kind'. i took this opportunity and came out of my hiding place, after i'd wiped the tears so he couldn't get the relief he desperately craved from seeing me cry. "now now, izuku! that's a good boy!" he walked over to me and punched my stomach, my mom giggling in the background.
i fall to the ground and cough. he just knocked the wind out of me. he smirks to himself as always; showing his pride in the pain he had caused me. he kicks me and punches me, and eventually, my mother joins in as well. after what felt like hours of them beating me, they left. i just cry. i cry for hours on my little broken mattress until i finally fall asleep. tomorrow, school.
