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Chapter One
"Hell is Home"
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“Mom?!” The dark-haired boy calls out as he kicks off his shoes, flicking the cigarette out the door before closing it.
“Is that you, Lee!” A woman's voice calls from the next room.
“Mhm!”
His steps echo through the house as he heads to the room. “Is the devil in or what?”
“I told you not to call him that… But no, he isn't.”
As he enters the room, he sees a blonde-haired, cheerful woman sat on a torn up couch in the center of the room: a book in her hand.
“I mean, am I wrong?” Liam chuckles with a shrug as he leans against the door frame.
“Liam.” The figure turned to face him, her eyebrows raised, a stern glare plastered on her face.
Liam smiles, “Yeah… Yeah. I know. No being rude to your alcoholic dick of a husband.”
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He laughs, seeing her glaring intensify. While leaning on the door frame, he grabs one of the cans of beer on the table next to him: drinking the last of it.
“You're in later than usual? Had fun?”
Liam nods as he glances at his mother that sweet smile, that only appears when talking to her children, covering her face.
His mom, Maisey Crawford, hadn't always been the best mother. A past drug addict, although she'd been clean for a few years now, just after Lily had been born she had stopped. He loved her though, even through the hell she put him through, he always would. Liam couldn't ask for anyone more supportive.
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“You're fuck-”
“Yeah well y-”
The lovely sound of his parents arguing awoke Liam. With a groan, he got out of bed while slipping on a shirt that was on the floor.
Just as he was about to head downstairs, his attention was caught by a sight out the window. Trees pulled down, more litter than usual across the streets, some houses torn apart.
“Storm Aggie really didn't hold out…" He muttered to himself.
“Yeah…"
Liam jumps slightly in surprise at another voice before turning around, a small blonde-haired girl stood in his doorway. “Holy shit… You scared me, Lil.” As he runs a shaky hand through his hair, he notices how the girl seemed slightly agitated, her body was stiff and fists were clenched at her side.
“Language.” She mumbles as she stomps over. “Can you tell them both to shut it! I'm trying to do my homework.”
He couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the little girl and his own thoughts, at least she wasn't upset like he thought. “Yeah. I will.”
The smaller girl nodded as she turned around, storming back out. A quiet chuckle escaped Liam at his sister, she was something alright.
Before he gets even more of a lecture from his sister, Liam makes his way downstairs: wondering why they were arguing this time. The reasons behind his parent's arguments were often small, but his father's love for alcohol fueled them like gasoline.
“What the hell is going on?!” Liam questioned, his voice raised, as he walked into the room. A litter of glass stood underneath where his parents were arguing, and he noticed his mother wiping his eyes as he walked in.
The brute figure of his dad turned to face him, his eyes were red and heavy and a new swell was forming under his eyes. Typical… Getting into fights.
“Don't talk to me like that, son…" The slur of a voice murmured out in drunken anger.
“I ain't your son.” Liam scoffed, looking at his father up and down. Vomit littered his father's shirt. “You're a mess…" The boy noticed his father's fists scrunching up but ignored it as he grabbed his jacket from off the floor.
“You're a fucking mess.”
After taking one last look at him, he turned around — heading for the door.
“Don't you walk away from me, boy!” A drunken yell echoed through the house. He could hear the sound of uneven footsteps and the ushered whispers of his mother's pleads.
“I'll do what I want. You don't own me.” The boy called back, he'd never feared his father like his mother did: she stood up for him around utter strangers just in case he found out. She had always been scared, but not him.
Just as he was about to open the door, he feels a pair of rough, calloused hands grab hold of his shoulders: throwing him to the side. A sharp pain shoots into the dark-haired boy as he slams into the steps of the stairs.
“Boy… Did nobody ever teach you any respect?!” A familiar look of rage filled his father's eyes as he loomed over him.
“Well I didn't have the best father figure, now did I?” A hint of coldness filled his voice before groaning in pain. Hopefully, it's just a bruise. He thought as he uses his hands to push himself back to his feet.
Just as he got himself up off the floor, he was knocked back down. A shooting pain erupted in his cheek as the demon's fist made contact with his cheek. The taste of a sweet, familiar liquid lingered in his mouth as he supported himself with his arms. A throbbing pain taking over the left side of his face.
“Ian!” A petrified yell of his mother, filled with pain and fear, echoed through the house as she stared at his father.
“You're a little shit… Always were!” His father spat, he could feel his eyes burning into the back of his neck.
“Lee… You should go…" His mother sobbed, barely staying on her feet, as he saw tears falling from her face and soaking her shirt.
“And never come back to my house, you little bitch!”
Liam watched as the feet of his father shoved past his mother, back to the living room, where he'd probably pass out drunk. “My boy… My sweet, sweet baby boy." He hears his mother murmur to herself, her voice croaky and cracking as she takes deep breaths inbetween words.
“Woman! I need another beer!" The bitter voice called from the room over, and with that, his mother left, not even checking on him.
Liam can't help but laugh, collapsing on the floor as he laughs so much it feels like he can't breathe. “What a start to a day…" He mutters between breaths. Kicked out, punched to shit… And my mom doesn't even care. He thought, as he was on the floor. The sweet nectar still filling his mouth and he could feel a cold liquid running down his cheek.
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The dark-haired boy stood outside a house, he could only dream of ever living in. He looked extremely out of place inside Figure Eight, but he didn't know where else to go: the Heyward's were busy. A gray, dirty torn shirt covered his chest while the people he saw walking around were in suits. A swell was starting on his cheek and dry blood had stained it from a cut, the punch had formed. God, it doesn't feel right being here…
As he lingers in his thoughts, he's interrupted by the door opening. Kie stood there in a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt, just like the normal hippie clothes she wears. On her face was a look of horror and concern, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape.
“Hey… What the hell happened to you?” Kiera says, her tone one of fear mixed with worry.
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Hey people! Sorry for this one being a lot longer but god damn did this story intensify quick! If y'all don't hate Ian (Liam's dad) then your definitely going to later on — small hint at what's going to happen.
Thanks for reading!
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Word count: 1306