Kick.
Punch.
Side blow to the face.
More kicks.
More punches.
Then, one, giant, flamming fist straight to the ribs. Derek was down and on the floor.
"Its a damn good thing your already useless!" Derek's step-father hollered. His "dad" gave him one last stomp in the gut, then turned away without looking back. He stopped at the door though, grabbing the open door frame and turning his head slightly down. "Maybe if you weren't such a disappointment." He said with a shake of the head, disappearing behind the door. Hot tears streamed down Derek's face. He looked like a fountain. A cracked fountain in the middle of an abandoned park, barley flowing, with vines and moss strewn across its crumbling frame, letting out its last drops of water. Derek clenched his stomach, grasped for air, and just cried. Thats all he resorted to now. After his mother ran away from home due to severe depression, his life turned to hell. Derek never knew his blood father either. This piece of garbage was his sister's father. And he had to put up with him day after day.
Derek tried getting up. He trembled, and about on his sixth try, he got up. He used the counter for support. Derek wobbled over to the kitchen chairs and plopped down on one. The tears had not stopped flowing for a good ten minutes at this point. Derem once again held his torso in hope that it would stop hurting. With his luck, his ribs and guts didnt stop aching. Derek knew that if he didnt get out of the house now though, he'd be late for school. He wobbled upstairs once again to collect his papers and books to go to school with. He stuffed them in his bookbag and drug himself back downstairs. Derek sluggishly walked out the door and headed to the gates of hell; school.
