The Criminals son

7

     Pain lanced its way across my skull, a gnawing headache stopped all thought processes. My stomach clenched and my throat screamed for any liquid. Bruises have gathered all over. Black and purple fought for space on my arms and chest.
         
     My chest tightened with each inhale. I guessed I had at least one broken rib. It was not a feeling I was unfamiliar with. After the man... my fa... the man declared he was my father I burst.

     Red flashed before my eyes. How could the man who I had envisioned in my times of need, the one who I had thought about after every beating and rotten school day, be this criminal? The one who had kidnapped me!

     No way.

     I truly had nothing.

     No one.

     The conversation with my supposed father came to the forefront of my mind. It ran on a continuous loop. That was 2 days ago.

     I think.

     Since then I had seen no one, not even John. My stomach grumbled in reminder. I had not eaten since.

     After our conversation I had lashed out. I saw red and before I could blink I was on top of the man, pounding my fists into his face, his stomach. This man, this monster. He took me from my home. I mean my house.

     I remember the feel of the hands gripping my arms, tearing me away and pounding me to the ground.

     And the punishment.

     The beatings and the pain, the feel of the belt as it collided with my back.

     And the yelling. The sound was etched permanently in my mind.

     Every punch, kick, and whip was accompanied by the harsh command made by my father.

     ¨RULE NUMBER 3: YOU WILL OBEY ME AS WELL AS JOHN¨

     ¨RULE NUMBER 4: YOU WILL NEVER RUN FROM ME"

     "RULE NUMBER 5: YOU WILL BE PUNISHED FOR DISOBEDIENCE"

     The words etched themselves in my brain, combining with the thud of boot on flesh and the clang of the buckle as it met skin.

     When they were done rough hands latched on to my arms, pulling me across the floor. They threw me into my... the room.

     And since then I had been alone in my thoughts. No one was coming for me. I was completely and utterly alone.

     The thud of feet hitting wood sounded as it got louder and louder. The pit in my stomach grew. Maybe they're just bringing food? I told myself over and over, in an attempt to calm myself. My head snapped up as my body subconsciously backed away, cornering myself in the process.

     I gasped for air, but my air couldn't seem to fill my lungs. I started taking shorter breaths, trying to fill my lungs as I could feel myself hyperventilating. I was alone, with no one looking for me. And with a man who claimed to be my father. I couldn't handle this.

     "Calm down."

     "Breathe"

     A hand placed itself on my heart. I could feel the heartbeat of another.

     "Follow me."

     "In" He inhaled and I tried to inhale with him.

     "Out." I exhaled.

     My breathing eventually calmed as hands wrapped themselves around me. I leaned into the chest, resting my weary head. I heard the soothing words as my eyes closed. I was so desperate for comfort that now that I had it my body was demanding the rest I had been neglecting.

     Strong arms tried to gently pry me away as a small whimper escaped my lips.

     "No, please." I needed comfort no matter where I got it from.

     We lay there, on the cold, hard, floor, as I felt my eyes grow heavier and heavier.
As the world faded around me I heard one sentence that sent chills down my spine.     

     But I could do nothing as soothing words drifted me to sleep.

     "I love you my son."