Beaten In Lips - [boyxboy]

〔two〕

School was definitely nothing like home, although I didn't have friends to sit around with, no one really noticed me and I was okay with that. School was a safe haven and I was allowed to be invisible and not have to worry about anything, but as soon as the last bell for the day rang, I became frightened. Sometimes attention was drawn to me, but that was only at times whenever I'd fallen asleep in class due to the lack of sleep the night before, I would jump or scream awake and everyone would look at me with strange, curious eyes. Sometimes people would talk about it for a few days before that died down and they talked about something else.

Currently I was sitting in English, half asleep and almost drooling all over my paper. This lecture about Shakespeare literature was boring, and everyone else seemed to agree too. A few heads were down and some were jerking in and out of sleep, I was one of those also. Thankfully the bell rang and I was on my way to my next class before things got way out of hand.

It was like a never-ending cycle. I went to my classes, then lunch and continued with the day. By the time the last bell was ringing, I dreaded going home.

When I walked through the front door, I knew what the expect. A glass bottle was thrown close to my head, a few shards cutting against my cheek and making it bleed slightly. My dad yelled from the kitchen.

"Come clean this shit up before I beat the sense into you!" He screamed. "What makes you think you can leave this house without cleaning it?! Do you have any idea how much shit I do for you! I give you a roof over your unthankful head and watch over you because you're too much of a disappointment for you fucking mother to do it-" and all this other things that he spews at me before grabbing another bottle from the refrigerator and heading off into the living room, grumbling about whatever.

I finished cleaning what was supposed to be cleaned fifteen or so times, making sure everything was nice and neat, but apparently it wasn't good enough. My dad stood in front of me, rearing his hand back and slapping me across the face. I groaned in pain, stumbling against the wall.

"Why can't you just do as I ask?!" He screamed and that's when everything went down hill. It never really got this bad. Sure I got punched and slapped, but kicked until I could feel my lungs failing? No. I was screaming from pain as one kick was delivered to my side, and like before, I thought something broke. It was agonizing and I just wanted it to be over. Thankfully that came. A knock on the door stopped my father from beating me any further. I sat up against the wall, gasping and wheezing for air, holding to my sides and trying not make much noise. My dad was stood at the door and I could flashing blue and red lights. Freedom. I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but the when the words flew out of my mouth, it was too late.

"Help me! Please." I begged and the two officers that were stood at the door barged right in, one pushed my father against the wall, patting him down in search of whatever while the other walked my way, calling for more officers to come. The one that had my father against the wall began to tell him his Miranda rights, cuffing him and pushing him out the door. For a slight moment I thought this was all just a dream, something that I wished could happen, but it obviously wasn't.

"Son," the one who was in front of me spoke. His voice sounded far away though and I began to panic. This always happened. The echoing voices and then I passed out. "Son, listen to me. We're taking you to the hospital, an ambulance is on the way." He said, I nodded slowly, my body beginning to feel really heavy and my eyes began to droop. It was almost too hard to breathe, I was still wheezing and a ringing in my ears began to sound louder. Soon enough there were loud sirens and my vision became hazy. More police officers came into the house and as quickly as I thought it, I blacked out.