The next morning with an excruciating pain from my ribs. I walked to the bathroom and raised my shirt, I could feel my broken ribs and bruises on my stomach. I looked at my body covered in scars from beating and burn marks along my arm. Disgusting was all I could think of. I made my way towards the kitchen and prepared Lan's breakfast.
I went back to my room and put on my worn-out black hoodie and jeans.
My door opened suddenly, Lan was standing there with a wicked sneer and holding a belt , his eyes were red intoxicated with his drugs. Without a second to spare I could feel the belt on my back the pain shooted across my spine. He grabbed by the collar throwed me against the door. I could feel the air leaving my lungs I stumbled down the stairs, he grabbed my legs and dragged me to the kitchen threwed me against the corner and left. After i made sure that he was out of my sight a small whimper escaped my lips and tears streaming down my bruised cheeks.
I knew what the corner meant, but i just prayed that he would let it go atleast for today. This was like a practice or tradition you may say that Lan made sure to follow through every month. Every month on the fourth Sunday Lan would beat me up and drag me to the kitchen corner and carve my back with his beer bottle. A loud crashing sound could be heard from the living room i stood up and limped across the kitchen to see lan unconscious. He tripped on his feet and is unconscious now..
I practically sprinted across the room and got out of the house. I walked to the near by park, sat on the swing took out my cigarette lighted and let out a puff. I could feel my nerves calm down. As i worked through my cigarette forgetting about Lan and the bruises forming on back and stomach.
"Well I could help you with that.. ragazzino "(little boy in Italian)
A six foot tall man with tattoos along his arm came up to me, took the cigarette out of my hands.