Alex

Day Two

The next day, Alex woke up and walked into the bathroom to check his face and his chest. He had no school, so he didn't have to prepare for anything. He stepped in front of the mirror to examine his lip, which was still swollen. He looked at his chest, which was black and blue all over, and ran his fingers along his ribcage, feeling the tenderness as he ran his fingers along his side. He recounted how badly he'd been beaten yesterday, and how nobody had any understanding of what had happened that day. His mother, father- they had no idea, or at least clued to not having any idea as to what that boy had suffered through. He was alone, seemingly, but at times he liked the loneliness. There was a certain degree of quietness that came with being alone, and he enjoyed the quiet. Both of his parents were away at work, which left him to the house all by himself. He made a small meal, as there wasn't much to eat at his house, and ate it while watching TV. He felt a certain sort of peace in this time to himself, as he knew nobody was there to yell at or hit him for anything, even if he had not done anything. The house was a certain way only when he was there alone, as the rest of the time was spent listening to yelling and screaming and hitting. It seemed like everywhere he went there was pain, and everything he did was wrong.
His mother arrived home at one o'clock, then stepped into the shower for her relaxation time. About twenty- five minutes later, she stepped out and told him to "vacate", which was her way of telling him that she wanted control of the TV. It was quiet for another couple hours, as his mother spent her time half- watching television crime dramas, along with the occasional game show while playing various Internet games on her computer. His father came home at around four, suitcase in hand. He was a businessman, and had sold a good amount of products that day. He set his things down and told his wife that he would be home later that night, as him and several of his buddies were going to the bar to celebrate. She shrugged- her usual response- and said she'd see him later, without even taking her eyes off the screen. He scowled, which worried the boy, and continued on his way to the bedroom to get changed into some more casual clothing. After he emerged from the bedroom, he slipped a more comfortable pair of shoes on and walked out again. His mother sighed, and relaxed a bit more while watching TV again. The time seemed to fly by for the next couple hours, until 8:00 came and his mother retired to her bedroom. By this time, all of his homework was done and had a bit of time to relax, himself. he had written a short paragraph on the effects of too much junk food on the human body for his science class.

As 8:30 rolled by, the streets grew increasingly quiet, and there was an air of serenity to the entire area. Alex stood on the porch outside of his house, watching the sun set, and simply relaxed. His side, tender as it was, didn't hurt as bad as before, and his lip was barely swollen. The traffic was near non- existent, and the loudest sound that was heard would be the local birds. The faint humming of the street lights began to follow, and dusk was upon the neighborhood. A barking dog could be heard down the street, but wasn't very loud at all. Alex stepped back inside, locking up the house as he closed the front door. The house was it's peaceful quiet, again, and he was tired. So, he decided that it was time for bed, and shuffled off to his room and changed. He slid under his covers, which seemed a little immature for a thirteen- year- old's bed; they were "spider- man" sheets he had since he was four, and the comforter was beginning to tear at the corners. He lay there, motionless, unable to sleep, until about 2:00. At that time, he started to finally drift, until a noise an hour later awoke him.

A loud crash echoed through the house and stiffened him up in his bed with a gasp. It sounded like someone broke in, but the noise was followed by the door shutting again. He thought this was weird, because he had never heard that before. He quietly and nervously crept out of his room, peeking around the corner while shaking, watching a single black figure stumble throughout the house. The man, as he determined it to be, seemed to be impaired, tripping over things in plain sight. This struck Alex with a sense of both fear and familiarity, as the posture and size of the man was familiar. He stepped out and walked to the light switch, flicking it on to see the man. His father, drunk to the point of disgust, turned and covered his eyes from the light. He let out a groan, then plopped into his chair with a thud. He asked his son what he was doing up, who responded by explaining that the loud crashing woke him up from a restless sleep. The man grumbled under his breath and told the boy to return to bed. Alex did as he was told, and slid under the covers of his immaturely clad bed.