"Pog" = talking
'Pog' = thoughts
'Pog' = Flashbacks/dreams/intrusive thoughts (voices?)
"Pog" = calling
(TW: abuse, abandonment(?), Mentions of dead relatives, neglect, starvation)
|Tell me if I missed any|
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(Tommy's POV)
I sat alone in my room, listening to "the able sisters," humming the tune as I put plasters on the cuts and bruises that littered my body.
I heard the familiar slamming of a car and an angry slam to the front door. Throwing on my sweater and shutting off my computer, I walked downstairs to greet my father 'he is probably drunk again,' I thought, slowly making my way downstairs, dreading what was to come.
I turned the corner and saw him. Arms crossed, 'What did I do this time.' "There you are. I've been waiting for three minutes!" The smell of booze radiated off the scruffy man— disheveled hair and sunken eyes —He brought his hand down hard onto my face, a stinging pain coming over me as I dropped to the floor holding the slapped cheek. "You worthless brat! I told you to clean this house and wait for me in front of the door!" He kicked me in the chest; I stifled a scream and curled up into the fetal position, trying to shield my chest from the punches my father threw. Tears streamed down my pale yet bruised skin when he kicked me square on the back. The metal toe of his boot had reopened a cut, blood pouring down my side. "Clean yourself up; you get no food for next week!" tears streamed down my face; I quickly hid it, not wanting to be beaten more.
I managed to drag myself upstairs. The pain was unbearable. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I opened the drawer with all my bandages and wraps. I managed to wrap up the reopened cut on my back, stifling my cries as I did so. "Why did you have to leave.." I whispered to myself.
"Mum!" he ran up to his mother, who stood at the door, bags strung over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, toms...; I promise I'll come back.." the woman spoke, her voice soothing. "Why! Take me... Please!" he cried. "I'm so sorry, toms.." and said that the woman shoved the boy, running off so that he couldn't follow.
(3rd person POV)
This memory haunted Tommy. He wished his mother wasn't so selfish and eager to leave. 'The least she could've done is left me with some relat- Oh right. Half of 'em are de-; wait, was it all? Whatever.' his mind wandered, being pulled out of his thoughts by a sharp pain in his side. 'Right,' he remembered. Tommy managed– with whatever strength he had left in himself –to push himself onto his feet using the counter. Painfully he made his way to his room, or whatever he was supposed to call it, it being a mattress on the floor, his set-up was make-shift. The only plus side was that his "dad" cared enough to buy him a PC to stream from. Of course, Tommy got no money from the streams. The boy lay on the bed, making sure not to injure himself further, drifting into a deep sleep. Albeit hard, he managed to get through the night.
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First chapter done? YEAH! Sleep? NONE!
(Words: 558 Edited: Jul 18th, 2023 )
~Kimi
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ꕥ᯽ 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚎? ᯽ꕥ
Random"What's up chat!" - Tommyinnit, the energetic and cheerful teen on the internet has been hding some deep secrets. But behind the facades is a boy. Scared and alone forced to live with his abusive father. Though during a meetup with the Dsmp, his sec...
