Asylum

Broken Boy

GRAPHIC CHAPTER 
---------------------------------------------------------

Sam banged on the door, hands beginning to bleed. His voice was hoarse from screaming.

"Please let me out.." Sam whispered, sliding down the door. He was hungry. His parents locked him in a closet and wouldn't let him out.

Sam was 10 years old and he's never been outside. He was forced to stay inside, doing chores. He has seen nature from the window but never touched it.

Soon the door opened, revealing his mother. "We have company coming. Shut your mouth or I'll just it for you. Go clean the kitchen brat." She said as she pulled him out of the closet by his hair. Sam winced but never made a sound, scared to be punished.

He stood and made his way to the kitchen. It was a mess. Beer bottles littered the floor, dished piled high in the sink. Sam sighed, leaning down to pick up the bottles. He was shoved to the ground, the bottle breaking in his hand. Blood covered his hand as he pulled out the glass shards.

He glanced up as he heard the laughing of his parents. Biting his lip gently, he stood up, continuing to clean the mess made. Throwing the bottles in the garbage, he made his way back to the kitchen. Sam grabbed a stool so he could reach the sink better, he turned on the hot water and let it fill the sink.

Sam gently ran his hand under the water, cleaning the blood. He grabbed plates and slipped them into the water, careful not to break them.

Quickly finishing the dishes, Sam wiped the counters clean. His mother entered the room. "Wipe the table then make dinner. You go back where you belong after."

Sam whimpered quietly, wiping down the table. He moved to the refrigerator, pulling out steak and brussel sprouts. He started cooking, getting back into the fridge to make salad. He flipped the steaks before starting mashed potatoes.

Once he was done cooking, he set the table carefully. His father walked in the room, looking around before grabbing the boy by the back of his neck. Dragging him back to the closet roughly. "If you make a noise I'll make sure you regret it. Dont move. Dont speak. And maybe ill feed you." His father said before roughly throwing him inside the small space.

The door closed, leaving Sam in pitch black darkness. He whimpered. Sam hates the dark.

---------------------------------------------------------

Sam dreamed about going outside. To be able to touch the grass and feel the sun against his skin. He was lonely. He was 11 years old and has never talked to another kid. He was sad. He felt worthless. His parents tell him all the time that nobody would ever love him. What did he do wrong? Sam will never know.

He looked at the door, moaning filling his ears. He quickly covered his ears. "Please stop" he whispered repeatedly.

It will never stop. He hears a voice call back to him. He quickly looks around, scared. He laid down, pulling his blanket up to his chin. He grabs the pillow, covering his ears. Drowning out the sounds of his parents.

He closes his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep. He quickly opens them again.

Silence.

He sits up slowly, leaning his ear against the door. It opens. His mother standing there. "Get up." She speaks harshly. Sam quickly stands up, fear filling his body. She grabs his hair pulling him to the couch.

"Do you know why you are locked in that closet?" His father speaks. Sam shakes his head.

"You are in there because you are a burden. A shame. And if anyone saw you they would run." His father spoke harshly.