Shadows Fading (BxB)

~5~

Another song to describe Kyle through the lyrics ^ (Natural - Imagine Dragons) Also, do you guys like me putting songs with the chapters? Comment if I should keep doing it, or just let it be.

TW: abuse

~Kyle POV~

A door slamming woke me harshly, making me flinch in my curled-up position. "Useless fucking bitch!" My mom was screaming loud enough to wake the whole house. That was probably her goal, anyway. Wake Dave and my adoptive dad, then blame it on me so she could have the entertainment of watching me in pain. In the meantime, she began to land her surprisingly weak but harsh punches on my back.

This is EXACTLY why I don't sleep leaving my fucking front side exposed.

Sure enough, the puny punches and loud yells ceased, only to be replaced with two much meatier fists and a shit ton of fury radiating off dad about being woken up. You have no fucking right to be upset about that. Try being unable to sleep at all, and when you do it's passing out from exhaustion or your fucking beatings.

Punch after punch landed on me, then I was abruptly shoved off the bed, effectively forcing me to uncurl a bit from the sudden impact. His foot took advantage of it as it smashed into my stomach, causing me to groan and roll over before it could hit again. Just that one kick would leave a nasty bruise; I could already feel the damn thing forming.

"What the hell is all the fucking noise in here?" Dave's voice echoed from the doorway. His interruption was possibly one of the only times now that I actually didn't mind him being around. I watched him warily as I stood up, dad no longer over me as he approached Dave for him to stay out of it. Not wanting to stick around for the fight to come, I made my way slowly to the window, clutching my side as I opened it. For once, they were completely preoccupied with arguing with each other, so I took the chance to escape while I could before any of them could notice me leaving.

I slid out the window, holding on as my feet steadied on the roof. Without bothering with magic, I simply jumped, aiming for the bushes just below my unfortunately second-floor window, but misjudged the distance. "Fuck!" I hissed, gritting my teeth when I landed hard, left ankle bending unnaturally and bringing a searing pain. I barely managed to hold back a yelp from it. I was glad that I could scoot back into the bushes before anybody could possibly catch sight of me, and that I hadn't taken my jacket off from the night before. Only once I was fully covered by the leaves and prickly branches did I take my jacket off, followed by my shirt as I dug my Swiss army knife out. It sure came in damn handy for situations like this. I sliced the bottom-most inch of the shirt off, leaving it still long enough to cover my upper body, and cut one side of it so it was now a long strip. I took the fabric, taking off the shoe I still had on and wrapping the strip around my gradually swelling ankle. It hurt like fucking hell to just touch it. I groaned silently, feeling I probably should've just taken the beatings. My body was already going to be littered with bruises regardless, and I'd probably just end up with more for running off when I did return.

Why did I never fight back? Why did I stay? Simple. I couldn't. It all connected back to those damned pills. If I died, I wanted it to be because I decided to, not because I was deprived from my fucking medication by the assholes I have to call my fucking adoptive parents.

Useless. Can't fucking do anything about it.

When my ankle was securely wrapped, I tugged back on the shirt and jacket, putting the knife back where it was. I waited a couple minutes until it was silent in the house before I got up, using the house for support while balancing mostly on my aching right leg. It was excruciating to walk, but I managed to start hobbling away. Where I was going, I had no clue; I just knew I wasn't going back inside that place. Not for a while, anyway.