|| Side-By-Side || A Sprace Love Story

Chapter 2 - Nightmares

Warning: Mentions of Abuse
Third Person POV

Race was hiding in the closet, in front of his 'papa's' room.

His father just got home.

"Anthony!"  His father yells.

His father always called him Anthony, because he thought Antonio was "too Italian."

Race stayed hidden, not wanting to be the one to deal with his father's anger and drinking problems right now. He was praying one of his brothers would deal with him instead.

He squished against the back of the closet like his life depended on it.

It didn't matter though, the closet swung open, showing his angry father. The alcohol hit Race like a wave.

"Found you, boy." His father's evil smirk replaced the frown that had been on his face.

Race never knew where his siblings were when he was getting beat.

"G-Good day?" Race asks hopefully.

His father's frown returns as his face gets angrier being reminded of the horrible day he had. "I lost a game." He almost growls.

"Sorr- Sorry- sir." Race apologizes, his eyes squeezed closed and pushing his back against the wall more.

He wished he could disappear.

Race's father grabs his Race by the collar of his shirt, bringing/dragging him out of the closet, and throwing him on the floor of his room.

Race let out a yelp in pain.

"You aren't getting out of this one, Anthony. I need something to take my anger out on." His father states, grabbing a cigarette that he had lit.

Race knew what this meant.

Race tried to start crawling away.

His father grabbed Race's arm, ignoring the pleas for Race for him to stop.

Race lets out a cry of pain as the cigar burns his skin.

"Shut up, boy!"

Race shoots up in his bunk.

Sweat was dripping down his face, along with a few tears that silently fell as well.

Race puts his hands on his chest/heart, and slowly inhales and exhales to calm himself down and slow his breathing/heart rate.

He didn't want to wake anyone up.

He falls back on his bunk.

Tonight, Jack was taking him, Davey, Blink, and Specs to Queens.

Race's anxiety levels were at an all time high because of it.

Memories came flooding back the more he thought about going back to Queens, even if it was just for a night.

I can't wait to get this figured out and over, the faster I get out of Queens, the faster everything will go back to normal.

No Queens, no nightmares, no nothing.

Race looks at his arm.

It was hurting, a lot...

The scars hurt where the cigarette burned years ago.

He calls them scars, but they are untreated and haven't healed yet, especially the mental ones.