Horrible mess

5

My dad threw a bottle at me as soon as I walked in the door. I flinch as the bottle erupted next to my head.

"Where the fuck have you been?! It's ten minutes later than you should have been home!" He screamed, getting right into my face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

I hunker down, not making eye contact. "I-I was j-just walking slowly." I lie, not wanting to tell him the truth. If he knew about Larry and how nice he is, my dad would flip and more than likely kill me out of rage.

He must of bought the lie because all he did was grab me by my hair, dragging me to my room. I struggle even though I know it was useless. I never can escape his drunken grasp. He pushes me on my floor, taking off his belt. He bent it before lifting it above his head. I had just enough time to take my bag off before the first hit fell onto my back. I cry out as the pain exploded from my back. My dad struck me again and again, not stopping until I was bleeding through my shirt and onto the floor. I lost count at about thirty hits. My tears had stopped at about that time as well.

He left my room, muttering something about getting another beer. I curl up into a ball, taking my mask off, sobbing. The pain was too much for me. I pass out from the pain.

I open my eyes to see that it was a rainy day and I was outside. I look over to see that I'm holding hands with my dad who was sobbing loudly. My hand was so small compared to his. I can barely see because I only can use one eye. I look down to see a hole dug out of he ground.

I feel cold, but probably not as cold as my mom. She lays in the casket that is in the hole, as heavy and as cold as metal. Her eyes are probably vacant, her face placid and dead. I cry, gripping my dad's hand tighter. Suddenly, I fall through the ground, hitting water. I struggle to swim upwards, the water pulling me down.

As I was pulled down deeper, I heard whispers. I don't know what they were saying though, because water filled my ears. I soon can breathe again.

I open my eyes, only to see that I was by the bathtub, my dad holding the back of my hair. I didn't have enough time before he pushed my head back under the water. I struggle against him, not wanting to die like this. He pulls me back up, throwing my head against the toilet. I gasp in pain as my vision goes red for a split second. I hear my dad leave the bathroom, going into his room. He probably thinks I'm dead or knocked out.

I sit up, feeling dizzy. I most likely have a concussion, or something. I stumble into my room, rummaging through my bag, finding the keycard and the walkie-talkie. I turn on the walkie-talkie, holding it up to my dripping face.

"L-Larry, are you there? O-over?" I mutter into it, not really knowing how these things work. I wait for thirty seconds before I get a response.

"Yeah, I'm here. What's up man? Over." Larry says.

"C-can I c-come over? I-I need some he-help... Over..." I say, my head becoming light and groggy.

"Yeah, shit dude. Of course you can! Are you sure you don't want me to come up there? Over."

"Y-yeah... I'll c-come down soon... over."

I stand up, grabbing my mask, putting it on before I walk to the door, leaving my apartment. I lean heavily on the wall, making my way over to the elevator. I get in, putting in the keycard. I can barely hear the music. I can barely see. I put the walkie-talkie back up to my mouth.

"H-hey Larry? Can you help me? I-I might need help out o-of the elevator. O-over."

"Yeah. I can. I'm on my way to the elevator now. Over."