Although Jacob knew that his father loved him, Kevin was not the ideal parent. His mysterious work kept him busy all the time, and from what Jacob could tell, his business was failing. Just over half a year ago his dad had suddenly tightened the belt on their budget, moving them to a small house back in Mexico, in a village in which the family had lived twice before (both in times of financial distress) and had become evermore distant and detached.
When Kevin returned home in the small hours of the morning, he never seemed to be in a good mood. Normal interactions between father and son in the Perez household were scarce and as stress brought them further apart, becoming non-existent.
Jacob knew to either lock himself in his room and pretend to be sleeping or just stay out of his way lest a fight break out between them and Kevin act out on him. After a particularly long day, his father might crack open the liquor cabinet and drink himself into unconsciousness before he would creep down, ever the dutiful son, to cover his remaining parent with a blanket and put away the empty bottles. But booze was expensive and so the other, more frequent outlet, was his own son.
The teenager had received the sharp end of his father's temper on many occasions, too many in fact. In the beginning, his father would punish him for under-performance and disobedience fair enough, Jacob agreed. Kevin had grown up as the only child in a military family and corporal punishment was completely reasonable in his view but as his life unraveled and his family and business fell apart, the line between discipline and undeserved aggression had become disturbingly blurred.
Jacob could have forgiven his father for hurting him so much if the man had been drunk or if he had a reason. But despite behaving impeccably for his dad, Jacob still received the sting of his father's belt. He never felt safe at home anymore. He was always on edge that he would snap at a moment's notice. His life was becoming too unpredictable to just sit there and wait for the next bout of pain and suffering.
The beatings had been infrequent at the start, when Jacob had turned fourteen and his father's third wife had walked out he had blamed Jacob. From then on the violence had become more common and it's damage escalated.
Three years had passed since then and after being repeatedly struck by the monster that his father would morph into, he had become desensitised to the hurt that was delivered to him at least every week.
Pain was not the only thing that he had stopped being able to feel. His mantra of 'it's not real... it doesn't hurt' helped him ignore what was happening- the deep hole that he was sinking into.
Reality didn't exist anymore. There was only what he decided. He didn't want his father to hurt him so he simply denied it. Despite how much he just wanted to get away from it all- his unstable family and the bruises which came with every angry night, Jacob had always lied to the doctors. He didn't want his father to get in trouble. After all, Kevin was still his dad.
Avoiding thinking about it was the easiest way for Jacob. He suppressed his emotions to keep up his facade of indifference and avoid breakdown. His goals and ambitions in life had fizzed out to simply surviving this state of mind for one more day and he had redirected his entire focus and attention on just feeling again. Anything to feel something- be it good or bad, just to temporarily pull him from his stagnant state of existing by nothingness. He wanted something new. But how?
Jacob flicked on the light and looked at himself in his bedside table mirror. His eyes were dark and his face was pale from lack of time spent outdoors. His mouth had been drawn into a permanent flat line for years. His perfectly applied makeup did nothing to hide his sorrow.
Kevin always told him that he looked just like his mother with all his cosmetics applied. His mother had been beautiful, and sometimes Kevin said it admiringly, other times disgustedly, as if he saw Jacob and his mother as the same person, the same traitor who had walked out on the life he had worked so hard to build. Jacob thought that maybe that was why his father beat him with such a feral look in his eyes. He was the retribution for his mother's betrayal. That seemed fair, he supposed.
The creak of the stairs tore Jacob's mind away from his reflection.
"Dad? Daddy how come you're home early?" He called out. He hadn't heard the front door open or seen his father's car in the driveway.
No reply.
"I just got home, I'm really tired from the doctors," he continued, stroking the cotton ball taped to the inside of his elbow where the nurse had taken blood.
Still no answer.
Not wondering why his father hadn't replied, Jacob chattered on, "It took forever to get home. The tram lines were closed for repairs and the buses were diverted. I stopped and ate on the way home so do you mind if I just go straight to sleep?"
Silence.
"Daddy?" If he was home this early, then he would be in a good mood and Jacob was feeling affectionate all of a sudden.
Jacob exited his room and peered down the stairs. The lights were still off. Turning back around, the breath in his lungs froze at the sight of a tall built man standing only two feet away from him with a predatory glint in his eyes.
Before he could open his mouth to scream, the intruder, much faster and stronger than Jacob, spun him around and pushed him against the corridor wall. One muscular arm was wrapped around his chest pinning his arms to his sides and the other pressed his face to the rough surface.
If the man's intentions were to squeeze the breath out of Jacob, then he was succeeding. Jacob gasped for breath and struggled for freedom but his efforts were in vain as a hand moved to cover his face, holding a chemically soaked cloth over his mouth and nose.
The sweet smell and taste assaulted Jacob's senses and he kicked out and shook his head from side to side trying to escape the Chloroform but only managed to butt his head into his assailant's firm chest.
The man took a few steps back and suffocated him even harder, making Jacob's throat felt like it was being tickled from the inside and like his head was being filled with cold mist.
"Let me go!" he murmured into the cloth, feeling lightheaded and frantic.
"That's right, go to sleep," cooed the man as he felt Jacob's flailing become weak. His movements slowed to a complete halt and his mind had turned off.
With a wide smile of achievement, the man picked up Jacob's limp body with ease and hauled him into the back of a black van, inconspicuously parked in a dark side road.
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