Traded In His Misery {Brusnop Remake}

I Need A Home Sweet Home

Ben's POV

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"Benjamin Bruce, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?" The man asked.

"I do." I nodded before stepping behind the stand. I looked at Danny nervously before glancing at my father.

"Tell us everything." The judge told me. I pulled the cuffs of the jacket sleeves over my hands.

"Um... Thats actually difficult to say. Some of it I'd sort of a mess in my mind, and some things I'm not sure which were real and which were the nightmares." I started.

"Tell us what you can." The judge told me calmly.

"From the start." I nodded to myself. "As far back as I can remember was roughly when I started school around the age of four or five. Um... I remember coming home excited that I'd made friends, and my mum asked about them. Most of them were male, and my father got mad. He'd tell me that I can't have male friends because he didn't want me to be gay. I remember again after that he'd be really disappointed and give me angry looks and be disappointed when I'd mention people who were guys. He'd say things about how he refused to have a son who was gay. He'd tell my mum that she had to have cheated on him to have given birth to a 'fag' and that I couldn't be his son if I was. Eventually though, around the age of thirteen or fourteen, I actually did come out to my mother about being gay. He heard me tell her and... I-I can still just feel the pain of that day. I probably should have been taken to a hospital. Most days after he'd come home drunk and he'd beat me. I've had broken limbs and black eyes and busted lips. Some days it was hard to cover the bruises when I went to school." I closed my eyes for a moment, holding back tears. "There was probably only a total of five days from the age of fourteen that I wasn't beaten. If I showed that it hurt, he called me a faggot and say that only pussies would complain, then he'd hit me more. One particular time I faintly remember he hit me hard on the head and I blacked out, and when I came to, he was hitting me even worse, but I couldn't even be bothered by it anymore that night because it no longer hurt, but I was numb." I took a deep breath.

"How did it make you feel? Like, mentally." I was asked.

"Low. Like I didn't deserve to live anymore. It was like I didn't have a reason to live because the only person who showed me any affection after was my sister. My mum was to afraid of her own life to try anything. Bex though, she was daddy's little princess. So I formed the thought in my mind that I didn't deserve any happiness. I felt like I was just a disgrace to everyone. There were multiple times I'd have preferred to kill myself and get it over with. Like if I'd have died first, they'd still be alive." I replied,  balling my hands into fists to control the shaking as my father's cold glare stabbed into me.

"What about the night of the shooting?" The man asked me calmly. I took a deep breath.

"I had gotten home from school and my mum was home with my sister, who had been sick. My dad got home a while later and instantly walked to me, spit in my face, and grabbed my by my hair, and called me a pathetic nothing then punched me in the stomach. When he let go, I fell to the ground and he began kicking me hard in the gut and the ribs. My mum stood up and yelled at him... He'd never hit me in front of her before... she told him to stop. To let me go. Then she told Bex to take me upstairs and calm me down and to get me to breath properly. We were in my room and they began yelling. Names flew around and apparently so did hands because I could literally hear him slap he so she fell. Bex went down and begged him to stop, and I instantly made it in my mind to run away. I started trying to get a few small things in a bag when I heard the gun." I stopped and covered my mouth trying to hold back the loud sob. "After both shots, I heard him coming up the steps and I opened the window, knowing I wouldn't be able to go out of the door. As soon as I went to jump out the window, he walked in and shot me in the shoulder. Instead of carefully jumping out of the window, I fell two stories onto my back. He told me that I better be dead by time he got to me, so when he left the window, I ran. I ended up in York and ran into Danny, who took me to the he hospital, then him and his family took me in." I finished, shaking. I looked and saw Danny watching sadly like he wanted to hug me tightly.

"Thank you, Ben. You can go sit back down. We'd like Daniel Worsnop to come up." The judge told me I nodded and stood. Danny gave me a small tight hug as I walked by. I sat next to Philip as the told Danny to swear the truth.

"Daniel, tell us everything you know since you met Benjamin." The judge said. Danny nodded.

"I had just left somewhere and was walking down the street to my car and accidentally bumped into him, not really hard, but enough that he fell over. I apologized, because that's just common courtesy. Then I noticed he was bleeding really bad and I helped him stand up, bur he could barely move or even speak. He was extremely weak and just... just a mess, so I took him to the hospital. While they were stitching his shoulder,  I saw on the news in the waiting room about it. The nurse who helped us into the hospital noticed and called me over to call my parents and I did. She called the police and when they got there, my mum and dad offered to take him in and care for him. After we got home he instantly went to sleep. For the next week all he did was cry... It was hard to watch, but at the same time I refused for him to go through it alone. I'd pick up bits and pieces of what happened to him when he'd cry. I'd give him a shoulder to cry on, when he was too pained to move I'd do what I could, or help him with whatever he needed. At night, I'd wake up to him having nightmares, begging his father not to hit him again. It was hard for him to change his shirt sometimes because of his shoulder, and if I was helping, I could see the scars on his chest and his back where he'd been burned or cut or whatever had happened. He would constantly tell us how sorry he was and how he wishes there was another option so me and my family weren't in this. He was terrified that someone else would get hurt. He wouldn't eat, either.  He just slept and cried. I just wanted to like... hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but it's so hard to assure false hope when you don't know what's going to happen. He eventually told me everything, and the next day we were told that it was known where he'd been, and that we needed to be taken from the house and put in a safe place... When we were there, every day he'd sit and apologize over and over that we were taken from our home to help him. He even told me once that 'if he were smart' he'd walk away so we'd be safer." He looked to me sadly, giving me an apologetic look. "... I found out then that he'd been, um... hurting himself. He still felt guilty about everything. He'd been saying how he wishes he'd have died instead, and then he began to hurt himself... I think that was one of the hardest parts about it... and I'm sorry that I just told that, Ben, but they wanted the whole truth." He sighed and looked down. "It made me feel guilty that he was doing it. Like I should have paid better attention and then maybe I could have prevented some of the pain he was feeling."

"Thank you, Daniel. You may go back to your seat." The judge said. He walked over and sat next to his dad on the other side. "Mr Bruce," they turned their attention to my father, "how do you plead?" There was silence around the room while everyone looked at him.

"Guilty." He admitted. "It regret all of my actions and I'm willing to pay the price."

"Then I hereby sentence you to life in prison." The judge stated. Two police officers took my father instantly. "Case dismissed. You may all leave." As soon as everyone left, I stood and hugged Danny tightly. A man walked over a few moments later.

"Ben Bruce, I know you probably will want to stay with the family you've been staying with, however we can't approve. The documents have been signed and published through, you'll live on your own, and you'll have a lot of things to do, but until you're eighteen, for the best, you'll have no contact with the Worsnop family. We have reason to believe you have PTSD,  due to your story and his." The man said.

"...What?"

-1 Week Later-

"This is the last of it." The guy said and sat the last box in the room of the small house.

"Okay." I mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Kid. I think this is for the best though." He stated.

"You don't even know me. I don't want your fucking opinion." I sighed. He gave me a sympathetic look and walked out. I turned on the TV and sighed, watching the random shows all evening, trying to keep my mind off of Danny and his parents, before falling asleep on the couch.

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I'm on a fucking role man

~Jnx