I hate what I see in the mirror

Home Sweet Home, Its Hell!

Lots of people made mistakes. There was a filing issue that took half the day to fix due to communication problems. There were too many call outs, there was almost no one in the station to help with the homicides. And so on and so forth. 

Itachi knew he was going to get beat for it. Not that any of it was his fault, but when his father was angry with something, anything, he took it out on Itachi. Plus Fuyuka always got off of work before Itachi, meaning he was always drunk off his ass by the time Itachi got home. 

He took a deep breath preparing himself for what is to come. Well he can't stand out here all day. He turned the door handle and walked in.

There was the sound of glass rolling on the floor as he pushed the door open. Glass beer bottles and tin cans littered the floor. To the left was the stairs, leading up to all the bedrooms. On the other side was the kitchen and living room where Fuyuka sat. He was sitting in a recliner with his back facing the door as he watched the TV. There was some kind of waster rodeo show playing and Fuyuka seemed to be quite focused on it. Hoping he hadn't been noticed, Itachi went towards the stairs with the lightest step he could muster. 

"Where are you going Boy?" 

The gruff voice of the old man called from his chair. He kept his eyes locked on the TV, not bothering to turn around to look at his son. 

Itachi, who only had one foot on the bottom step, returned it to the floor and turned to face the direction of his father. He hung his head low, turning his eyes to the floor, folding his hands behind his back. 

"My room. I have work to do for the station." 

Itachi said in his natural, steady, voice. 

"That can wait. Get me a beer!" 

He demanded as he tossed his now empty bottle on the floor. 

"Yes sir." 

Itachi states simply before hurrying to the kitchen to get the deer out of the fridge. 

He opened the fridge, reaching in and grabbed out the beer his father requested. As he stood back up and closed the fridge his father was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Itachi slightly stumbled back in surprise. 

"Here, what you asked for, father." 

Itachi said as he turned his eyes to the floor and held his hand out with the beer. 

Fuyuka walked forward and statched the bottle, opening it in front of Itachi. Who stayed perfect still, waiting to be released to his room. 

As he stood there he could hear the top of the bottle pop and then he felt cold liquid soaking through his raven locks. He looked up to see Fuyuka pouring the bottle over his head. He didn't resist. He kept his hands behind his back and did not dare look into his father's eyes. 

Itachi felt the liquor dripping out of his hair, down the back of his shirt, over his face and off his chin. He didn't move, he stood still and let the beer pour down his body. It soaked through his shirt and dripped from his bangs onto the floor. 

It was humiliating. Standing there as liquid dripped down his body, drenching his clothes. Itachi felt degraded. He was being treated like an object that had no emotions or conscience. His dreams, his wants and desires were never taken into consideration with Fuyuka. Itachi simply did as he was told, like a robot. Then he would get ridiculed and pushed around at work for not being human enough. Not robot enough at home, not human enough at work. It wasn't like a lightswitch. He couldn't turn it off and on just like that, but that's what everyone wanted- No, not what they 'wanted' what they 'expected' from him. Perfect! Perfection! He was 'perfection'! Was supposed to be born perfect! No flaws! Ever! He should never get tired. He should never be hungry or thirsty. He should be able to take as many hits as needed and not even flinch. That's what everyone expected from him.