My Bully

Chapter 2

I opened my eyes slowly. Sitting up i looked around the room trying to figure out where I was.

Oh, that's right. I came here after i met with Marcus.

I frowned as i remembered what conspired in those five minutes of torture, still unsure why he would do something like that.

I looked at my watch and gasped. "Crap! I should have been home two hours ago! They're going to kill me!" I jumped up, grabbing my skateboard and book bag.

I flung the door open and then, after closing it with a bang, i raced towards home. I didn't slow down once and was panting by the time i reached my front door.

I paused for the first time in my rush to get home. I really didn't want to see them and i knew they would punish me for being late. I sighed knowing it would be worse the longer i waited. So, taking a deep breath, i slowly reached my hand out and grabbed the nobb. I turned it and pushed the door open.

I poked my head inside the door and looked around. I could smell alcohol and smoke, but i didn't see my parents. I stepped inside and closed the door quietly. Then i heard the deep drunken voice i hated so much.

"Wher haf you bin, you little brat?" My drunk father asked. I froze and turned around slowly.

I saw he was holding an empty beer bottle and was staggering slightly. My mother was sitting in the chair behind him smoking, a bottle of vodka on the table. They were both glaring at me.

"Well?! Your father asked you a question, idiot!" My mother yelled at me and i flinched at her high voice.

"I-i was asked t-to help cl-clean the cl-classroom." I stuttered.

"Your our, good for nothing, son! You do what we say! You are to be home by 7:30 pm!" My mother shouted. She looked at my father and nodded.

My father took his belt off and i backed up into the corner. He advanced towards me. I closed my eyes as he swung the belt. It hit my back with a painful thwack! I cried out and fell to the floor. I curled myself into a tight ball as my father continued to beat me with his belt.

I was crying and screaming for him to stop but, he didn't. My mother flung the bottle of vodka at me and it hit the wall above my head. The glass fell, cutting my cheeks and the alcohol that came with it stung.

My father kicked me in the ribs and punched me in the face. I felt my eye swell up and soon it was swollen shut. I was crying so hard i could hardly breath. After getting to hit til he was satisfied, my father stopped and put his belt back on. Then he grabbed me and dragged me to the cold cellar, my mother close behind.

He tossed me down the cement steps and i rolled to a painful stop. "You can think about how disrespectful you are, in there!" I heard my mother sneer. Then they shut the doors and i heard the click of the lock.

I sighed as tears streamed down my face. My whole body ached as i attempted to stand up. I limped my way to the light switch and flicked it on. I looked around me at the torn mattress on the ground, the electrical box and the old wooden broom leaning against the wall.

I still felt the tears running down my cheeks as i slid to the cold ground, crying silently. After a while I stood up and went over to the mattress. A torn mattress is better than no mattress at all. Plus the cement ground was cold and i had already lost my jacket when I'd been beaten.

I stuck my hand inside the mattress and pulled out a blanket. I had snuck it in the last time i was down here. I had been so cold i hid one here so that if i was ever locked up again i would have a some kind of warmth to keep me alive. My parents didn't know it was here and if they did i would probably be beaten again.