*Ollie’s POV*
I sat in my room, feeling the tension in the air settle around me, like the electricity you feel in the wind as storm cloud roll in. I was still dressed despite the fact it was midnight, but that was for a very good reason. My dad was in the living room, drunk as hell.
Trying to distract myself from the possible whirwind of trouble coming my way, I think about today’s outfit. It was one of my usuals-my bunny eared hoodie, except today I’d dressed to reflect my mood, so my pants had been back instead of pink. Still-effective.
A loud crash in the livign room makes me practically jump from my skin. I’ve already decided it’s the perfect time to escape out my window when the loud footsteps pounding in my direction alert me that my decision was made to late. “OLIVER!” his voice booms in a drunken stupor.
Going for it anyways, I rush to the window, but I’m only clicking the unlock button now when my door bursts open. Catching me red handed will only piss him off further, so I slowly turn, not looking him in the eye’s. He has the scissors. I supress a fearful whimper.
“What do nyou think your doing?” he growls.
“I didn’t want to disturb you…” I reply, trying not to aggitate him further.
“Liar!” he shouts, and a blow lands across my face. I’m astonished. I have my mom’s face, so that’s normally an untouched zone. He’s never doen anything to mess up my facial looks before, and I’m scared he’ll start now. How am I supposed to hide purely visible bruises?
“Sorry father” I mumble. He grabs my face in a rough carass.
“You look just like her” he grunts. I want to pull away from his thick and sickening breath, but I don’t dare. He roughly grasps my cheeks. “I’ve never touched your face because you look like her. But you’re a sinner Oliver, and your going to hell, so you might as well go there looking like you are. On the inside”
I blink “Dad, please don’t. Someone will notice” I say feebly.
Then he slashes me across the face with the scissors. I cry out, helpless to stop myself. Clutching my face I stumble away from him blindly. It’s a diagonal cut, deep, and presumably ugly. I let out a pathetic sob, the blood trickling into my eye’s. It feels like my skin is on fire.
“Get out of my house!” he roars. I’m crying. “Get out!”
He gives me a shove and I fly into a picture of me and mom, knocking it down and going down with it. The glass shatters and digs into my arm, drawing more blood. I start to crawl to my window. My father watches coldly as I prop it open and lift myself outside. The night air chills my exposed blood.
I fall to the cold dirt and shakily get to my feet. I don’t have the energy or the will to run, so I don’t ever bother. I start limping away from the house, the only thing I have being my cell phone. I start automatically towards Tia’s house, she’s let me stay the night before. Then I remember.
Earlier tonight, she text me saying her and Quinn were going out and cutting school tomorrow… meaning they wouldn’t be back yet, and her phone would be off. Great. None of my other friends would understand, nor are they in walking distance. I limp onwards, distancing myself even as I think.
It’s dark out, so I can’t help but ntoice when the light shifts a little. And it’s shifting because a light from the house next to me is on and blazing. I glance up at it, only to realize this is the house of Henry Coy. Don’t. part of me whispers. But the rest knows I have no other option.
