Bye Bye, Baby Blue. | salvis |

4

Greeting my dad was something I was always taught to do. In fact, I was taught to be friendly and greet every adult presence. My dad has so many rules and regulations to the point where I feel like a prisoner inside my own home. "Did you do your chores like a good little boy, Travis?" My father asked in his sickeningly sweet tone. My blood ran cold, did I have chores? God damnit, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! I gulped hard before hesitantly saying, "N-no father, b-but I can do them right now!" I backed up, knocking over a vase, scrambling to pick it up. Jeez this house is crowded, heh. He just stared at me, more like a death glare then a friendly "oh, no big deal." He grabbed me by the back of my collar, choking me, turning me to face him, "Boy, I told you to clean this pigsty of a house- " I interrupted him, damnit, Travis. "But father I-" Smack. That's pretty much the last thing I said before well, Punch. Kick. Smack. Repeat, on repeat. God, pray for me. I was laying on the floor, as he grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the floor, causing my jaw to make a popping noise. I cringed at the sound, the pain was unbearable. I started sobbing, something I usually never do. I flipped myself onto my boney spine. Clutching my jaw like it's the last ( dvd of shrek on earth) thing I'll ever hold. He grabbed me and forced me up by the shoulders, "I swear, if it's broken you're going to have to deal with it yourself." That's the last thing he said to me before pushing me on the stairs. I took only a few steps at a time, to take breaks. Everything hurts, everything. Past scars, present bruises. Why hasn't anyone put the puzzle together? It's like they don't care. I mean, they probably don't. I sighed before getting ready for bed. I took a shower making sure to turn it up all the way to the "hot" side. (I rotisserie chicken). I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed, honestly I don't think I'll sleep tonight, when do I ever? Can't wait for school tomorrow, note the sarcasm.