Alive-Not by choice (boyxboy)

Chapter 4.

'Daddy? Where's Mummy gone? When's she coming back?' 

'I DON'T FUCKING KNOW' My Dad shouted at me. I started to cry. Bawl as more like it. Daddy had never shouted at me before. Did I make Mummy leave? Is it my fault Daddy's angry and Amy's upset? Is it me?

I heard footstep's coming down the stairs.

'Jay, Come here' Amy said. I walked over to her sniffling. Amy picked me up and carried me to my room.

'Where's Mummy?' I asked.

Amy started crying again. 'I don't know. Jay. I don't know'

'When's she coming home?' 

'I don't know' She cried.

I sat there thinking of where Mummy might have gone. 'Oh I know. She's gone to buy us that castle to live in. Has'nt she Amy? That's where Mummy's gone' I told her, getting excited.

She gave me a weak laugh. 'Yes, Jaydon. That's where Mummy is'

*Flashback Over*

They were all the memories, I had of Mum. Just them two. I can just about remember what she look's like. Amy told me, she looked a lot like me. Same hair and eye colour. Every time I imagine my mum, I picture a tall woman. She's very pretty. Her hair just as black as mine. I can imagine it to be long, and soft. And if you smell it it would smell like strawberries. Her eye's alway's kind, the exact same colour as mine. But her's more sparkly. When I was younger, I'd create fake memories in my head. Mum and Dad finally taking us to Disney World, and I'd cry when I got told I couldn't buy the castle. Coming home from school to find Mum baking cookie's. When I'd have friend's staying over, she'd let us stay up really late and bake us load's of muffins and biscuts to eat. Everyone would be jealous of me. I have a Mum who bake's anything. My Dad is the coolest in the world, and even Amy, she's be the best big sister in the world. In my head, I had a perfect family. 

*Flashback*

'It's your fault she's gone. Your fault. Your fault.' Dad told me in my face. I was used to this, I'd come home to it every night. Every night with out fail. For the past 10 year's, I've been told, by my Dad it was my fault my mother left us. I was only 4, so I couldn't see how it could have been my fault. But I'd started to believe it. Maybe I'd done something bad. I had no idea what I could have done, but maybe it was my fault. 

'Are you even listening to me?' My Dad spat.

I nodded quickly. 

'WHAT? I can't here you' He shouted.

'Yes, Dad' I quietly said. 

'I've had enough of this. Enough of you' 

Dad raised his fist in the air and brought it down till it connected with my face. I let out a cry of pain, but I think that only mad thing's worse. Soon after, he began kicking and punching me anywhere he could. With every sound I made the next hit would would be harder. I blacked out after a bit. Once I woke, I found my self on the kitchen floor covered in my own blood. 

*Flashback over*

After dragging my mind away from the memory, only then I realised I was crying. My hand itched toward's my right arm. Fuck you Evan. You took away the only thing that keep's me sane. How am I meant to cope with the pain now? I looked around for something sharp, while I picked at my scab's. I did'nt even notice, I was picking. Then it hit me. I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket and began scratching at my arm, like I had a itch. I kept itching my non-exiting itch until I saw blood draw. I smiled to my self. It felt like a victory, I had a way to keep my self sane. It hurt more than cutting and it was a lot slower. But I gave out the same effect. I got both pain and pleasure out of it. Hurting my self was the only way I could cope with all the hurt I was feeling.