♡BROKEN♡

Ch.1

"Carlos! When I get back home, this house better be clean! Ya hear me!? Or else you'll be sleeping in the basement again!" The Foster mother demanded, as she moved her blonde hair with her soft pale hand

"Yes ma'am" The young child answered quietly, scared and terrified of the taller women

"I'm leaving, bye ya little piece of shit" She said as she slammed the door shut, leaving Carlos Home alone again

He immediately he Started to Scrub the floors, polish the tables, dust the vases, clean the picture frames, do the dishes, put in laundry, He was a slave to The mean and racist Women they called Rachel

Carlos was a broken boy, Ever since his real mother's death, He was never able to feel emotions. All the happiness he felt before disappeared from him

It didn't take long for The young boy to be done with all the chores, the door then opened to reveal the Foster Mother standing there, examining the house

"The house looks good, You can go outside and play for a bit, but you better come back and make dinner!" She said yelling at him

His small feet made a move and walked outside the door and felt the fresh air hit his bruised and warm skin, His burgundy hair flowed in the powerful wind as he closed his eyes, hearing the quiet noise of nature

"Whatcha Doin Dollface?" A Young voice with a New York accent asked

Carlos opened his eyes and turned his head to see his friend, His only friend, Allen F Jones, A badass American, Who lived next door

"Nothing, just enjoying my useless and pathetic life" Carlos answered, Allen chuckled at his response

The Two sat in the grass and talked for a while, Both of them laughing at corny jokes and discussing about their lives.

For some strange reason, Carlos felt different when he was around Allen, And It was only around allen. He felt warm inside, He felt like there was hope for him, He felt...Alive

"Carlos! Get your ass in here!" Rachel yelled from the inside of the small house

"I have to go Allen, bye" Carlos said as he walked away, leaving the American behind

"Bye Mexi~" The American playfully mumbled

"Don't call me that Jones" The younger boy said getting pissed off at the little nickname

*Timeskip*

Tears kept pouring out like rain, Carlos was abused again. The pain in his body was too much, he wanted to Kill himself, He wanted to disappear from this cold world, because there was nothing to live for anymore, all the happiness was gone and only was filled with Depression

He finally stopped crying and looked over in the corner of the small and dark basement, And there stood an old and dusty mirror, he crawled over to it, whimpering at the pain in his body, he wiped the dust off as he looked into the mirror. This was him, The child with dark circles under his eyes, Bloody bruised skin, And eyes that glowed with fear.

He couldn't take it Anymore, he lifted up his fist and shattered the glass into pieces. He cried out in Rage as the glass roughly entered his skin. This was Him, a BROKEN soul