🚨 WARNING ABUSE, MISUSE OF ALCOHOL AND REFERENCE TO SUICIDE!! 🚨
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He stood there with the tip of his feet over the the edge, he looked down at the treacheries of the water.
'Why' he thought with grief.
'Why would you leave me for something so empty?'
"Why" he muttered aloud watching the shallow water beneath him as he took a breath "I won't follow behind you" he said.
"Hey kid you're not thinking of jumping are ya?" A man asked stopping as he was walking by with a smile on his face.
The boy scoffed and chuckled slightly "no sir" he replied turning to see a man in his 30s or so "just looking" he took one last glance of the water and then got down of the ledge with a very faint smile on his face.
"So what brings you here?" The man asked curiously "a skateboard" he said laughing.
"I'm joking, um I knew person who used to come here" he replied smiling slightly
"Ian by the way" the kind man said with hand out, the boy took it with a firm grip and shook it.
"Peter" he replied smiling "well it was a pleasure meeting you Peter, I better get going" the man said.
"Well have a good rest of your day" Peter said politely, "thank you and you too" the man said and then walked off down the gravel path.
Peter took his skateboard which was leaning against the wall and walked off the separate way. He kept walking until he was off the gravel and started to cruise on his board down the hill back into town. He swayed in and out the lines on the road as he always did ever since he was a child.
He continued to cruise down the neighbourhood until he reached his house, he didn't see his foster father's car in the drive way, so continued to walk in the house.
⚠️ TW: ABUSE, MISUSE OF ALCOHOL AND MENTION OF SUICIDE AHEAD! ⚠️
He was about to walk up the stairs when a voice came from the living room "didn't I tell you, to leave my stuff alone" his foster father said slurring his words, Peter froze in his tracks for a moment and sighed in disappointment.
He walked over to the open door "I didn't touch, your shit" he said firmly looking over at the horrid man who was surrounded in empty bottles and a half full one in his hand.
"You don't talk to me like that" he said seriously.
Peter could feel his heart racing "or what, you can hardly stand up, you're so drunk, and you've got so much cocaine up your fucking nose it would snow if I shook you" Peter scoffed taking a step closer to his foster father.
"You think you're so tough, you're just a pathetic little boy" the man said as he stood up swaying a little but getting his balance.
He walked over to the young boy "it's your fault" his foster father said, "your precious aunt flung herself off a bridge so she didn't have to look at you every day, she was so disappointed" he continued.
Peter could feel his blood boiling as he clenched his right fist "stop" he said firmly looking his foster father dead in the eyes.
"You should just kill yourself, no one would miss you" he said to Peter laughing like a psychopath.
Peter swung at the man, hitting him in the jaw, he laughed again as he spit blood onto the floor.
"You're a fucking psycho!" Peter shouted taking another swing at the man.
"Your life is worthless, no one gives a shit about you, even your own family left you!" Peter shouted, his foster father clenched his fists and punched Peter in the eye and again in the nose, Peter covered it with his hand as blood fell to the floor.
His foster father took a bat which had nails sticking out it and swung it at Peter who immediately took it with his hand as the nails pierced through his skin he yelled out in pain.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" He shouted in the sick man's face, his face red with anger.
The drunk man swung at him again this time in the ribs.
Peter fell to his hands and knees yelling out in pain, his foster father took yet another swing but at his back the nails tearing through his clothes and piercing through his skin, he dragged it all the way down, lifting it out as it was covered in blood.
Peter rolled onto his side as tears fell from his eyes "fucking piece of shit" his foster father said tossing the bat onto the couch and leaving the room.
⚠️ ABUSE OVER, JUST MENTION OF ABUSE AHEAD!⚠️
Peter's blooded hand gripped onto the doorframe and he pulled himself up, groaning and whimpering under his breath.
He walked out the living room and staggered across the hallway to the door opened it and walked out.
He took his skateboard which he left leaning against the outside wall and cruised down the sidewalk and off the curb, onto the road.
Everywhere hurt, his ribs, his hand, his nose and eye but most of all his back. He continued to cruise down the neighbourhood, but he felt weak and all he felt was pain.
He stopped at the side of the road and stumbled onto the curb. He felt dizzy and tired and just like that he had fallen unconscious his head hitting the sidewalk.
The honking of the car awoke him from the depths of unconsciousness, he got up and continued to cruise down the hill and into town.
He came to a garage and stumbled in, he sat down on an old musty couch and before he knew it he was in a deep haze of unconsciousness once again.
Peter awoke to the sun shining in through the windows, he felt weak and out of breath, his throat was dry, as well as his lips.
He got up and stumbled towards the counter where he, raided through the cupboards until he found the first aid kit. He took of his hoodie and groaned a little, he then pealed his t-shirt of which was stuck to his wounds by the great amounts of blood and groaned even more.
He took a bandage and struggled to wrap it around his waist and back, all though it took a while he got there eventually.
He put another bandage on his blooded hand after washing it in the sink.
He then turned back to the couch and flipped the blooded cushions over so that it was not noticeable.
He went to the back of the garage and through the door to where there were lockers, on a locker was a strip of masking tape which said his name. He opened it, got out a white tank top and slid it on, he then took his navy blue work overalls and put them on half way but tying the sleeves together at his waist.
Although Peter was only 14, he worked at the garage fixing cars but mostly just to get away from his foster father, his uncle Ben owned the place that was until he died 5 years ago, after he was was held at gun point on his way home. Peter's always blamed himself for that, he could've helped him. But he didn't.
Peter likes fixing up cars and he's rather good at it, better than most of the guys who work there anyway.
Peter's PoV-
I grabbed a wrench and roll on my back on my skateboard under a car I have been working on recently when a man walked in, the owner, his name is Evan and I've known him forever.
"You're here early" he says "yeah, I wanted to finish this up, I didn't get much progress yesterday" I say with a shrug.
"Well don't you be missin any school or nothin" Evan says.
"It's 7:30 am I think I'll be good" I say coming out from under the car with a slight smirk
"Jeez what happened to your face?" Evan asks noticing the bruises.
"It's nothing, I got in a fight at school" I lie, though very believably, wiping my hands on a cloth.
I then walked back over to his locker an pulled over a black t-shirt he left there, "anyway I gotta go" I say skating out the garage "c'ya" Evan shouts as I cruise down the street to school.
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Umm... hope you're enjoying this depressing ass story...?
And if you're here from my oneshot book then thanks for coming!!!
If you just randomly found this then also thanks for coming!!!
If you're Arson or Reindeer then what's up broskies!
Word Count: 1500
- mayaaaa ✌🏼