Bruised Innocence

Chapter 40

This one's for dynamicagent

Watching his dad from a pinhole opening on the left side of the warehouse, Samon was distinctly reminded of the day his old man had started beating him.

He didn't exactly remember how old he was back then, 11? 12? The  words his old man used while hitting him with his favoured black belt, still rung in his ears.

He had learnt to not cry out loud by then but he couldn't help but wince every time it would mar his skin, even as angry red, throbbing scars soon followed.

"You understand why I have to do this, don't you?" His old man would ask him to make sure that he understood.

"You need to get rid of those eyes. They are too gentle, too kind. This world isn't right for eyes like that. You won't last a year with them. You need to be strong! They need to be cruel!"

His Ma had been killed in a case of road rage and ever since then, his old man had lost a few of his marbles and most of his scruples.

Samon didn't have anywhere else to go, so he adapted. He did what his old man wanted done and kept up the appearances.

"I need you with me. I can't lose you like her!" His old man often emphasised.

The young Samon would go and stare at them in the mirror to find out exactly what was wrong with them. He would practice different expressions, glare at the mirror but nothing seemed to work because he would still receive those welts.

And then, one day he felt so angry at a boy in the park for teasing him that he pushed him off the slide and even then, his anger didn't subside, he was going to kick the boy when he caught sight of his reflection in the slide, his eyes; he had finally figured it out.

Even his old man was impressed with it and nodded approvingly at him. That's when he was introduced to Gloise. Gloise's eyes were sad and lonely but he wasn't beat up by anyone. They took to each other like peas of a pod.

Some months later, his old man stopped coming back home and Luther invited him to stay at their mansion.

No matter, how his old man was, he was all he had known and he was only a kid back then, so his absence really bugged Samon. He had learnt to take care of himself by then but after cleaning the house and preparing dinner, it used to get very lonely in night.

When he overheard from the servants that his old man was in prison, he wasn't shocked but it was still a major learning for him.

He couldn't afford to be caught by the cops. He would never be stupid like his old man. He would be smart and sneaky.

More eavesdropping and snooping helped him realise that it was Luther who made his old man do all those stuff and it gave rise to resentment in his heart.

Whereas the resentment for Gloise vapourised when Samon realised just how miserable and clueless he was about Luther's activities, the resentment against Luther only grew the more he got to know about the extent of his activities.

He never let it show though. He was the picture of perfect submission in front of him, grateful for being given the same opportunities as Luther's son, the same school and facilities but Luther made sure that he never forgot that he was supposed to repay all this by undying loyalty.

His old man was of the same mind. He thought that he should be grateful that Luther funded his education but Samon wasn't his old man.

He was of the opinion that he deserved it all just by the virtue of his old man's sevice to the Grants'.