My savior

05

Third person's pov:

Previous:

Earlier on the same day,

Eleia then pushed Liam onto the floor and kicked him multiple of times in a fit of rage as Liam curled up with his skinny arms trying to protect his head as he cried as quietly as he could as to not anger his mother any further.

Eleia kept torturing her poor son, leaving him all bloody. "You useless shit, don't forget I'm having a visitor today,but if the house is not clean I'm gonna beat the shit out of you, you understand?" Eleia spoke, "y-yes m-ma'am"Liam replied. "Good" Eleia spoke once again before leaving her soon all alone, laying on the cold floor.

Now:

Liam stayed on the floor for a few moments, wincing as he started to get his fragile body off of the nasty floor, stained with Liam's own blood caused by his own cruel mother and whoever she may have brought over to their ratty house.

For some reason his mother always brought people over to their filthy house, more specifically guys. But she had a type, they had greasy hair, either fat or really bulky and they always either wore white or black tank tops with stains or a button up shirt with short sleeves along with dark washed jeans or light washed jeans. And sometimes times they either sexually abused him, abused him or just ignored him.

He finally got himself of the nasty and stained floor before limping off to the kitchen to start cleaning. He took a mop from the almost broken cupboard and started sweeping the dirty floors of the main entrance, trying his very best to stay awake and conscious. And before he knew it he was sobbing. Letting all of his emotions out as he swept the floors clean while rubbing his eyes vigorously, trying to get rid of his so called 'pathetic' tears.

After sweeping the Main entrance floors he moved on to the living room floors. He sweeper the dirty floors trying to ignore his sore arms that were beginning to feel numb. He shook his arms, stopping for a moment before going back to sweeping the floors. He was just a child, not even 5 years old yet. He was supposed to have loving parents, a mom who'd cook warm meals for him or a dad that would teach him to swim or play soccer. But here he was, sweeping the floors of his own house, despite being so young, trying to prove his mother that he was in fact useful and not useless.

After he was done sweeping the living room he went to the kitchen and swept the floors including under the table and chairs. He then got some wipes and wiped down the counters. After that he got to the dishes and squeezed out dish soap onto the dishes before wetting a sponge and scrubbing them. He then rinsed the dishes before placing them on the rusty and metal drying rack.

He then went to the fridge and got a couple of beer bottles and a bottle of wine, placing them on the coffee table in front of the half decent couch.

With every step he took he wished he could just go to sleep, he was so tired of his mother and friends beating him up to what felt like no end. He was so tired to the point he wanted to curl up in a comfy bed and hide away from the rest of the cruel world and it's dangers.

But despite his tiredness, he continued cleaning the dusty house. Things never go how he wants them to, they never have and they never will and that's that. It's sad but hey! The truth hurts.

He maneuvered around the house as quickly as he could. Trying to get it as clean as he could to please his mother. And by the time he was done cleaning, he was exhausted and hoped todays visitor would leave him alone to recover his injuries that have yet to recover.

He quickly put away the cleaning supplies he was using as he heard the door opening and closing faintly before he heard his cruel mothers loud and atrocious laughing and an unknown man's voice and sprinted to his 'room', trying to hide from his abusers.

He reached his so called room and hid in the corner trying to shrink himself. Wishing the floor would just open up from beneath him and swallow him whole.

He hid and hid, staying in the same tiring position, trembling and shivering before he heard the door slam open. He flinched as his eyes widened, he sat there confused. Was his mother having another visitor? Would the visitor hurt him? Who was it? Why'd the door slam open?

Thoughts wandered around in Liam's mind as he tried to make himself smaller if that was even possible at this rate.

He tried to ignore his curiosity when all of a sudden he could hear shouting and loud thuds coming from the other room where his mother and her visitors were located.

Liam was absolutely beyond terrified and his body was shaking. Was he going to get another beating? What was going to happen to him? Is he in danger? Is there someone else in his home?

Liam now sat there alarmed by the harsh and loud noises with his doe eyes wide open. He sat in his place not moving an inch and neither was he making any noise. He was confused as this never happened before, he would just hear his mothers atrocious laugh then a man talking. Never would they be so loud and neither would they make so much crashing noises.

But no matter what Liam heard he always stayed in the same place, too scared to make a move nevertheless a noise. He just wished this would be over and done, but then again things never went how he wanted them to, they never have and probably never will. He let out small whimper as he heard loud footsteps approaching.

To be continued...

1030 words,
(Sorry for slacking off and not posting on time),