When Does It End? Dave X Reader-Insert

Chapter 1

Quick A/N: This is already written on paper, but I don't have the notebook with me so this will be revised

I sat on the ground in front of him, aching and sore. The end of the belt hit the ground as he let his arm rest.

"This should be a lesson to never talk back to me again," my father said flatly. He walked off to his room, located upstairs.

I sat in silence for a few minutes, watching my blood drip onto the floor. As soon as I heard the light snoring, I slowly stood up. I wobbled and placed my hand on the wall to regain my balance. My feet moved on their own, taking me to the upstairs bathroom.

My reflection avoided looking up at itself, and so did I. Reluctantly, I turned on the faucet. I listened for my father, who thankfully stayed asleep. Quickly and quietly, I washed away my blood and patched myself with bandages. I had gotten used to this nightly routine, ever since my mother died when I was four. This is the third house I've been in since then, and the hundredth time I had been hit. I was lucky he didn't pull a knife.

I turned off the faucet and looked at myself, only looking for any remaining wounds, not dwelling on my features. I looked just like my mother.

My hand flicked off the light and the other turned off the faucet with a squeak. My feet quietly carried me to my room, void of anything except a bed with a thin sheet. My mattress was an old one, and stayed flat on the ground.

I laid down without a sound, and let tears run down my cheeks and onto my mattress, my head resting on the a pillow less bed. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to embrace me, wishing I'd never wake up.

A/N: I still have a few things that need to be added, but they'll be added later on when I have my notebook! Until next time,

-Danny