Quick footsteps are barely heard at the brink of midnight. Run. That's all you can do, just run. You can't look behind you, you won't. You can't afford to slow dow, you can't let them catch up. You have to get away, you have to.
Fast footsteps, hea...
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▍japan, ua high 𝐎 𝐒 𝐇 𝐔 𝐍 𝐢. 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 04. ✿ ↬
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second person
𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 was use to crying at the young age of only six years old. She had often cried so much, her body would strain and become sore by the times she fell asleep. Oddly enough, crying had been comforting because it was the only thing that put her to sleep.
Today was one of those days you found yourself crying after being beaten. You sat in a corner, your body shaking in pain at the young age of five years olds. While your father stood before you with a belt in one hand and a can of bear in his other.
You didn't know what you had told one to anger him this time. But then again, you never knew what triggered him to beat you numb. Sometimes you felt as if there was no real reason, as if he just did it because he could.
And that was true, there was not much of a big reason, or a real reason for that matter, for why your father did this to you. With a mix of the achol, drugs and the fact that you heavenly resembled your mother, who he also beat. There was a number of reasons, but non of them were good ones. They were simply, excuses
There was something wrong with him. Something really wrong with his mind and the way he decided to live his life. As Mizuki would constantly remind your mother, once an abuser, always an abuser. But how could your mother leave when he had given her yet another child?
Every time she tried, he would give her yet another one. She was down the her third child as she was pregenat. How long would she allow this man to trap her in that loveless marriage filled with pain, sorry and excuses? She'd learn to be strong? if not for herself, then for her children. She had to.
You looked up at your half indian and half african father, Chris Havir, with tears in your eyes. Your teary eyes did nothing for him but make him angry, which had him throw the empty can of bear at you.
"Stop all your fucking crying!" The man yelled, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you up. His grip on your hand left bruises as he screamed at you.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please stop! I'm sorry!" You pleaded with tears steaming down your face, but it was useless. Your father just punched and punched and punched, while you cried and cried and cried your little heart out.
