✓LIFE SENTENCE|| TodoDeku Au

Prologue

~ Third Person P.O.V ~

It was the screaming that came first. 

The somewhat young boy desperately pulled and squeezed at his ears — his pathetic attempts at blocking the noise that influxed through his eardrums — as he curled up on his bed. Thick, wool blankets barely clinging to his shaking frame as he begged and pleaded for the screaming to stop. His father's booming shouts and curses being thrown out left and right as his mother wailed for him to stop. Footsteps pushed harder and harder against the hardwood flooring, the boards creaking and groaning with each step his father made.

With each passing second, the pit of the boy's stomach grew heavier and churned more tightly than before. His hands clasping harder and harder onto his ears as soft, broken whimpers pushed past the blockades of his lips — the engulfing, miasmic, aroma of alcohol from his father growing stronger.

He was drunk.

"Get those hands off your ears boy!" The elder shouted, his rough and calloused hands scathing his son's delicate skin. "And look at me when I'm speaking to you," he added with a growl, only earning more whimpers and quiet begging in return.

It wasn't his fault, the young boy hadn't asked for any of this . . . He was just as flummoxed as his parents were, however, no matter how bewildering the situation was doesn't give his father the right to lash out on him. Of course, none of that mattered, he'd still receive some form of punishment; sooner rather than later in this case.

"I didn't want it . . ." The young boy whispered, his voice soft and cracking as he spoke. "I'm sorry,"

His apologies fell on deaf ears as his father continued to bellow drunken slurs at him, the grip he had on the boy's wrist consolidated. The man's fingernails scathed and scarred his wrist violently, yet never leaving a mark on the black ink embedded into said flesh; the inked date remained polished and untouched which only drilled more hot flashes of anger down the elder's back. For on his son's wrist read the date, in bold, jet black ink— 

08.27.2020

Their problem?

It was mid-June of the early eighteen hundreds.

Hello Cricket Cultists!!

Ahhh new book, new me bithces! *Mumbles* But not really because I'm still depressed as hell— 

ANYWAY! I know this was short but keep in mind all my prologues are short, the first chapter may or may not be posted today we'll see. As always if you're new hello and welcome.

You may call me Cricket, I hope you enjoy the content I post on here. I can almost guarantee you won't regret it! Anywho, I know it's only the prologue but do y'all have any theories?

SOULMATE EXPLANATION: Basically when you turn eighteen you get a black mark on your wrist that tells you the date of when you'll meet your soulmate. Until you meet your soulmate it is physically impossible for you to grow or die. Meaning if you cut your hair it wouldn't grow back until you meet your soulmate, etc.

Until we meet again!!!