There was 6 of them.
6 boys who all came from the rich lifestyle. They all had parents to go back to and siblings at home, but for once, none of them wanted to go back. They had all been put in boarding school, so why should they go home when they...
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| Rowan Presley |
Giving one last final punch to the bag, I collapsed to the ground, as sweat dripped from my forehead. I was not in the usual school gym, knowing if I had a mental break down, there would be no way that any one would be able to see me the same way that they had always seen me from day one.
So, I had headed down to the downtown gym, knowing that not many people would usually be here, only the older men that thought that this gym made them look cool. It really didn't, as it was only in a garage, and had barely any lights on, and the lights that they did have, always flickered.
Ripping the strapping from my hands, I felt the blood rush to my fingers. I usually strapped them so tight so that I couldn't feel the pain that I knew my body begged me to give in too. I couldn't give in to it, as it would only make me want to stop, and not give the 110% that I was destined to give, every second of every hour.
"Oi, son, you finished?" one of the older guys that ran this place, walked to me, as I just nodded my head, handing him my slip, before I was grabbing my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and walking towards the door. That man had always called me son, and it had never bothered me, as I had never been called anyone's son. "You 'right?" he questioned, as I stopped in my tracks.
I had a limp, as I had had dodgy my ankle for years, but it had been worse recently. Pretty sure it was when I had flung myself across the football field the other night, only to receive a punishment from coach a few days later about it. "Yeah, I'm good" I bit my lip, as I forced a tight-lipped smile. I never smiled, and it made me cringe at myself.
With that, he said nothing more. I walked out, the dark cool night sending a shiver up my spine, as I had not put a shirt back on, rather just being in some sweatpants. Walking under as many street lights as I could, I finally saw the back of the boarding house that I dreaded going to every day and night.
"It will make you into a gentlemen. You will be disciplined and be a good boy" as the words of my father spoke to me when I was forced into boarding school as soon as I was able to go to school, sent shivers throughout my entire body. I hated the way he used to call me a good boy, before ruining my body even further.
No matter what holiday it was, he demanded me home, just so he could watch me suffer. It was only ever the two of us, as my mother was usually busy whenever he decided to hurt and scar me for however long he needed it to be there. Sometimes, he used to joke to me about it, forcing me to bring my shirt up so that he could see his own damage.
He had been the one that had ruined every Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Birthday that I have ever had. My birthday always happened to fall on the day that he needed me home on the Christmas holidays. If he could, he would sometimes change my birthday, but it never made a difference to who he was to me.
It always shocked me how he could remember my birthday. The same birthday that I had never had a birthday party for, where you invite all the kids in your class over, even though you may not like some of them, you still do it. I was never given that chance, and I never want to be given it, as I would never know how my father would treat me.
