I whimper and scoot further into the closet. My heart beat is rapid and my breathing shalow. I can hear my father's drunken rampage as he tears apart my room looking for me. I never should have stood up to him, it only makes him angrier, makes the beating worse.
"D-dammit you little slut, when I find you y-y-you'll regret talkingall high and mighty to me." Dad slurs and there's a pause as he takes another drink of Vodka.I shift trying to move back as far as I can go, but unfortunately for me, a box falls creating a loud 'thump'. I can hear everything go silent before heavy footsteps begin to make their way towards my hiding spot.
'Stupid, stupid, stupid.' I think, mentally scolding myself, as the doorknob turns. I have nowhere to run and all I can do is clench my hands and wait for the inevitable pain. The door finally opens and there stands my father. Or a shell of what he use to be. As we stare at eachother I take in his appearance.
His eyes are brown, but the whites are cracked with redness, they no longer hold the light they use too before mom - his wife - died. His hair,like mine, is brown but tinged with grey and tousled. He has a rough stubble that looks like he hasn't shved in the three days he's been gone. He reeks of alcohol and the smell makes my nose burn.
When I finally finish scrutinizing him did I realize we had been staring at eachother this whole time. For the first time in a long while, he's looking at me with tenderness, sadness showing in his eyes instead of the usual blank, hate-filled, or angered looks. It only lats for a second before the rage reappears and I'm puled out of the closet and thrown to the floor.
I moan as I land and hit my head on the floor. As I pick myself up onto my hands and knees, I'm kicked in the stomach before I can fully stand. After that I lay there, curled up in the feta position, as blowsa and kicks are rained upon my body. Tears are flowing down my cheeks from the pain by this time. Over the years I have learned that crying out only angers him so I clench my teeth together.I can already feel new bruises and cuts replacing the old and faded ones from the last beating.Dad gives me one final punch to my back. He spits on me before walking to my bedroom door.
"Try to tell me what do again and it'll be worse you cock-sucking faggot. Make sure my house is fucking spotless and you're gone by tomorrow. I'm having company over and I don't want them seeing the the embarrasment that's my son."
All I can do is whimper in reply as I tremble on the floor. Darkness is threatening to take over, and I'm fighting to stay conscious.
'Just until he leaves.' I think,
"Pathetic" Dad mumbles before slamming the door behind him.
I hear him walk down the staircase and wait for the slam of his office door closing before letting darkness take me under.
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The Picture is Aidan's dad (George Michaels) >>>
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