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I.
The little boy with the stripped black and white shirt sat quietly in his wooden rocking chair staring into his window. He really couldn't see much due to the droplets of the rain that kept pouring down from the clouds above covering his view. There alone he sat tracing the drops that were sliding down his window, wrapped around a red blanket and trying to block out the loud yelling of his parents.
The screams and yells seemed to get louder and just when he thought it was over, he would hear objects being thrown and provocative words being thrown around as if those were the only words they knew. At this point, the chaos that surrounded him didn't affect him the way it would've to a another 7 year old; almost as if he was already used to it. Considering the fact that it happened on a regular day basis, he would be already numb. Suddenly, the front door slammed closed indicating someone had left.
The screams of his mother filled up the house, he heard her voice getting closer until she was standing in front of his door. Terror was written on his face as he saw his drunken mother with nothing but anger in her eyes staring at him. That little boys heart began racing and his hands became sweaty, his breathing was beginning to cut short as he began to take in what was about to occur. His mother rushed over to him, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and before he knew it, he was thrown against his wall. Tear already rolling down his face before his mother could even lay a hand on him, the sounds of his cries annoyed her to the point where she would just beat him until no sounds came out of him. He tried to keep his cries down as his mom began to punch him and scream at him.
"I fucking hate you, I wish you were never born."
"It's your fault why your father and I even argue."
"I should've killed you when I had the chance, you little brat."
"God, why on earth did I even keep this ugly troll?"
All those insults came before kicks and punches, he felt like they were getting so much more painful. He closed his eyes praying to god to make it stop. The beating became unbearable and he let out a big yelp causing her to stop. Relieved, he laid there and cried. He saw her feet walking backwards towards the door, and suddenly she was crying on the floor with his knees up against her chest.
Although, he had just gotten a beaten from his mother, he hated seeing her cry. He ran towards her almost tripping from his bruised up leg and wrapped his little arms around her. He was still small and he didn't comprehend why his mom would beat him, but he loved her still.
"I'm sorry , my baby. I'm so sorry." She cried. "You don't deserve that. I don't know why I do it."
"It's okay, Mommy. I forgive you." Was all he kept saying as he held his crying mother in his little arms.
Who knew 15 years later that little boy would still be alive?
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Zacharias Kingsley: team captain for the University of Texas at Austin, home of the Rising Tigers football team. Won the team captain title freshman year of college and someone has yet to steal his position. Jersey Number 26. Also, was the best quarterback in high school. Does Track for extracurricular activities but enjoys the run to clear his mind off of things. Sports was always his thing. It was where he could let go of all the anger he built inside of him, apart from taking boxing classes. Being productive made his life somewhat easier and bearable.
