The One With Apathetic Eyes

Chapter One

SLAP! THUD!

Before he had time to process it, he was sprawled across the floor struggling to get up and he searched for the cause.

THUD!

But he had little luck as something slammed into his back, just as he'd gotten on his knees and elbows, sending him right back to the floor.

"Disgusting selfish little brat! What do you think gives you the right to fight over a toy with someone else!"

Any panic he had felt vanished after he heard the familiar voice filled with disgust and hate. It was merely an 'oh, it's just her' moment, as he knew not to answer her words which seemed like a question. He'd learned to never answer her during punishments, to never make a sound or she'd be even harder.

"You gave up your friendship with the only kid who even bothered to somehow find some nonexistent worth in you! Worthless!"

He grit his teeth as her foot dug deeper into his spine. Despite his earning for it to be numb like it used to be, he wasn't as used to it as he had been in previous years, and he hadn't been prepared for it.

Since young he had learned to hide his emotions, he'd hide away the memories of his suffering, his abuse, all for when interacting with others and his mother who seemed to hate any kind of indicative fact that he was human. But as with many things in these recent years of his life he'd lost them. The stone face he'd practiced his daily expression, and his eyes lifeless dull empty orbs that merely revealed what he had lost. With this numbness towards the world he'd likewise always kindly 'forget' about her grievances against him as soon as he was out the front door.

It hadn't helped that she had been nicer as well during 'discipline', spreading it into shorter lengths of time through out a longer period hiding the damage and making it seem as though he was clumsy, all due to the fact that he was forced to go out more with a friend.

Now though he quickly realized she didn't have too. He didn't have a friend that required he show himself at least four days a week to show he was alive. For the first time in ages a thought scared him, it was almost like how he'd been caught unprepared by his mother's change in attitude as a kid, back then he hadn't known to prepare his body to endure the long and painful beatings for a few years time.

The only thought that kept him going was his unwillingness to die at her hands, his hope that he'd survive long enough before he could leave. He'd always thought that he'd be able to survive til he was old enough to leave, but now he wasn't so sure. He'd been careless because he no longer cared much for anything in the world like he had as a kid.

He didn't know how long it had been since he started kicking him occasionally stepping on his arms or legs hard enough that his bones almost broke but didn't quite, rather only suffering small cracks, when he made a mistake crying out in pain a bit to loudly.

The kicking had frozen for only a moment before she grinned her heel on his head and seethed, "I hate your disgusting voice. You don't seem to have learned your lesson."

He heard her foot steps going away from him and he desperately wanted to escaped but he couldn't feel his body, the current type of pain one he hadn't suffered for a while. He was still out of it when she returned and harshly grabbed the back of his neck and lifted him up. He groaned a bit at the pain and feeling of his spine wanting to disconnect from his head when he was suddenly choking on whatever she was forcing down his throat.

She stopped just as suddenly releasing him and letting him fall to the floor. And as he started to puke and cough up whatever it had been poured down his throat, he could barely make out the disgusted sneer on her face as she spoke before disappearing, "Worthless trash. Clean up this mess after, and then go to your room. I don't want to see your face for a while!"

His throat felt like it was burning, a sensation he was familiar with but it felt different this time like he was being dissolved from the inside. Once he finished puking and coughing up the liquid he couldn't identify it eased a bit even if it still hurt and he wasted no time stumbling to the kitchen to came a rag to clean up the mess. Stumbling upstairs, and into his bedroom clumsily locking the door behind him he fell on to his bed the pain to much for him to hold together his mind, he slipped unconscious and only the next day did he discover the damage she had done.

— • —

That particular beating had been a little over five months ago. As of now he had long turned eleven, his birthday present being another beating followed by rant. Pinned to the floort  by a foot he was forced to listen to her screech about how worthless he was, throwing away his friendship for a mere toy. How he looked just like his father, acted just like his father, and was no better than his father, making him less than human in her words. The words which would have once stirred up anger in him doing nothing now that numbness and set in.

In his most recent beating, he welcomed the pain as it brought back old feelings as the days closed in on his Journey. It was interesting how not even six months after a resume of their old schedule, his body had already grown used to it. Most pain like a passing prick of a needle, even as she stepped on his fingers and as he heard a crack from his chest, as blood rose in his throat reminding him of old wounds and pain, promising pain the next day but also telling him he was alive. Even as she stepped on his head again, grinding her shoe (luckily not a heel this time) into it.

Rather he felt an eagerness as she ranted about how much she hated the stupid things that took away everything from her but those that which she hoped would get rid of him for her; Pokémon.

They were going to save him from his fate of dying at her hands or his own, as the only thing that helped clear a bit of dullness from the world now. Something he once viewed with little interest now brought hope into his life. Never had he cared for any of them other than his father's Pokémon, yet nowadays his memories of the mischievous pink Pokémon that oddly reminded him of a cat floating in the air that found him when he ventured into the woods for a place to read were the only things keeping him alive through his struggles.