And what about the boy who sat behind the phantom their leader and didn't tell a soul? What if he wasn't so passive, but instead worked the courage to join Akira and the thieves? Wouldn't it be a totally different story?
Started: March 03, 2018.
St...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" Oh? What is this?"
He mocked him at every chance. His voice echoed in Suzuki's ears like a broken record. His condescending tone peeved him, but he was powerless in this situation.
Suzuki looked up at the towering man before him, and was met with a sick grin. "Would ya' look at what the cat dragged in."
Suzuki's heart skipped a beat.
"F-Father!" He stuttered as the man best known as his biological father wrapped his hand around his wrist.
Suzuki couldn't beat him in strength.
"You can't do this anymore!" Suzuki exclaimed, his wrist hurt as his father dragged him by them. Pulling him closer and closer towards what he already knew would be his next torture room.
"You can't! You can't!" He repeated. He thrashed around, throwing his weight right, left and back. All trying to escape the grip of his captor. Tears were already beginning to run down his flustered cheeks.
It didn't matter how loud he cried, no one would ever be there to save him.
His father's grip loosen and a pang of relief nearly made his heart stop. But it was all cut short as he felt his back thrown against the wall. "Listen you ungrateful son of a bitch." The man before him hissed, no longer his father.
No, he hadn't been that in years.
"Time and time again, you say that I can't do this, I can't do that." He let out a scoff as his right boot swiftly met with Suzuki's left cheek, knocking the smaller boy to the side.
"You ain't any better that wrench, and we both know what happened to her."
Suzuki trembled.
He remembered the sight of his dying mother as she laid on the ground, bleeding to death on the cold wooden floor of their house kitchen.
He could see where she had been stabbed in the chest, the knife clearly protruding out of her as she cradled her wound. Her thin hands were coated in the crimson hue of her own blood.
Standing over her was his father.
He had a crazed and demonic look in his eyes. Suzuki remained there, petrified. Slowly, as if it was a scene from a horror movie, the man who was once a father figured turned towards him, a wicked grin on his face.
That had been the start of it all.
"If you don't want to end up like her," His father started. He grabbed Suzuki and lifted him up by his already messy and tangled bangs.
"You'll get in there, satisfy some hungry old men, and I'll get the paycheck."
His situation was death or violation.
He didn't want to die. But if he let one of those creepy old men touch him, he knew that later, he was going to wish he had taken the option to die. That was the easy way out of the situation.
But like always, fear held him tight, preventing him from uttering a word.
Not like it mattered what he said; his fate was sealed.
He heard the creek of the door opening.
Suzuki turned right in time as he fell in, his father pushing him down onto the ground. Unfortunately, right in the center of the circle of old men waiting for him.
They looked down at him with greed and lust; Suzuki looked up at them in horror and fear.
He jumped into action, quickly crawling his way towards the still opened door, but as his hand extended out to touch it, the door shut in his face and his leg was grabbed.
Within seconds, Suzuki was yanked back, dragged across the floor before lifting up. His body felt weightless, as if he was there but as a spectator mode.
The old men laughed, and laughed.
Suzuki recognized some of their faces from the news, others he figured came straight from the streets, using whatever money they had for drugs on him.
Their lustful grins burned into his mind, just as their hands left a disgusting slimy unforgettable feeling on his skin.
His mouth was opened, but no words came out.
Then, the scenery changed. He was no longer in that horrible room. But instead, the classroom.
Suzuki quickly looked around, noticing that all his classmates were picking up their things and leaving, the end of the school day already arriving.
He had been brought back to reality after the chair in front of him had hit his table, and he couldn't have been more thankful.
He took a deep breath, placing a shaky hand on his fast beating heart.
It took a moment to calm himself down, his eyes closed as he started to count from ten down to zero.
Suzuki reopened his eyes and looked around once more, naturally he was the last person left in the classroom.
With a sigh, he stood up, grabbed his things and instantly walked up the stairs, hoping that the rooftop scenery would calm him down some before heading to work.
"....in the same boat huh?"
He paused, hearing voices on the other side of the rooftop door.
Curiously, Suzuki looked at the window and saw Akira, the transfer student, and long time 'delinquent' Ryuji.
It was a party of all people Suzuki didn't want to get involved in. His mind was telling him to leave before he got involved, even then, he didn't want to.
Although eavesdropping wasn't anything to be proud of, Suzuki figured it was a lot better to listen to them, than risk the consequences of being alone. He leaned against the door, occasionally glancing through the small window as they talked.
