Warning!
Violent scene/content below! If you're uncomfortable with that please skip this chapter!
If you're comfortable with that then please enjoy! 💜
---------
"Excuse me?" His voice held so much venom, and at this point, Taehyung wondered if the man was even aware of what was happening right now, because he reeked of alcohol, and he was chugging the vodka bottle in his hand like there was no tomorrow. He wondered if he was even aware of their conversation, the remarks, the crude comments, the deathly glares, the snobby looks, the cigarette he had stomped on the floor to put out. He wondered if his father was even there.
"You're my dad. Love shouldn't be earned."
His father took a step closer to his son, the harsh smell of alcohol invading his nostrils, causing him to act on impulse and cover his nose with his sweater-paw. He cringed when his father's breath was a mix of cigarette smoke and vodka at the same time, making him want to turn his head away so he didn't have to smell the awful stench, the smell giving him a headache from how strong it was.
He did take a small step back, though, much to his father's dislike as he roughly grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him forward, so their faces were only inches apart. Taehyung subconsciously gasped at the sudden contact and force, his eyes widening in fear when he was met with his father's stone cold eyes and horrible breath, his body instantly stiffening from the close proximity.
"And what did you know about love, huh?" His father questioned-more like interrogated the poor boy-his body beginning to shake violently from the venom laced within his words, his sweater-paw covering his mouth, his bottom lips trembling as his eyes burned with freshly hot tears, trying his best to contain his emotions, but he felt like he was going to burst at any minute. "You don't know a fucking thing when I comes to love."
"I know it's not this," Taehyung shot back with so much force it took him by surprise a little, never knowing he could be this strong when he needed to be, but it terrified him when his father's grip on his wrist only tightened, his jaw clenching in frustration with the brunette boy, but Taehyung knew he was speaking the truth, although he didn't know a single thing about what love truly was.
However, he did know that this wasn't it. This wasn't what love was, and that it never will be this. He knew love was something that was to be cherished, something that made you feel genuinely happy on the inside instead of having the feeling of wanting to die all the time. He knew it was supposed to be the best feeling in the whole world, something that was rare in most cases, whether if it were from parents or from a partner.
But what his parents were showing him was everything else but love. This wasn't what love was supposed to feel like, nor look like. When he saw his parents, he saw nothing but pure hatred for their son and for the world. He didn't and still doesn't understand what made them this way, but whatever it was, he assumed it was because their parents were just as bad as them, if not worse.
What they were showing him was nothing but pure hatred and abuse for the brunette boy. This was showing him that hate was okay in this world, and it was okay to physically show it to those you don't like. He knew violence never solved anything, and he was scared to even try it because he didn't want to become his parents in any way, shape, or form.
He didn't have anger within him at all. He was just always terrified of the world and the people it came with. He was scared of what was going to happen to him at school, and what was going to happen to him at home. Both environments were traumatizing for Taehyung, and he hated both places with so much passion it sickened him because he was afraid he was slowly turning into his parents.
And that was his biggest fear.
His father was so pissed at this very moment, his grip tightening on the younger's wrist, before dropping the bottle to the floor with a loud shatter, glass and liquid flying in all directions-in every which way. The sudden noise caused Taehyung to violently flinch as he felt the alcohol soak his shoes, just as his father drew his fist back and threw it forward, connecting it with his son's jaw, sending him flying backwards and colliding with a wall.
Taehyung whimpered when his head smacked against the hard wall behind him, causing him to hold and cradle it in his hands as he felt a pounding headache form quickly. He hissed when he touched the spot where he had hit it, feeling something warm and wet coat the pads of his fingers, causing him to slowly retract them from their places and examine them.
Thick, warm red blood coated his digits, and he could feel it trickle from the open wound on the back of his head and slowly make its way down his neck. His head was pounding and he was more than certain he had a major concussion from the impact now, because of not only the headache he had, but because of how the room was now spinning and his vision kept fading in and out-from black to reality and then back to black.
He was so out of it he didn't even realize his father stumbling towards him, not finished with what he had started, reaching a hand out and roughly pulling Taehyung off the ground as the small brunette boy somehow managed to slip his bag off his shoulder, allowing it to fall to the floor before going back and cradling his head, all the while his father had pulled his fist back once again, throwing it forward, but this time, he collided it with the side of his son's head, right above his ear.
At this, Taehyung definitely screamed when his head was met with a fist, sending him falling to the ground, his hands colliding with the hardwood floor, trying to break his fall, but he was too late. The other side of his head smacked against the floor, a hard and loud smack echoing through the house, his vision going black for a split second, a light flashing before his eyes-like a bolt of lightning you see when it's storming.
He swore he was going to pass out due to the three harsh blows and impacts to his head, the tears already falling from his eyes and staining his porcelain cheeks. He cradled his head for as long as possible until he felt himself getting roughly pulled back up by the collar of his hoodie, and back onto his own two feet. His balance was horrible and he could feel the room spinning around him, his knees weakening as he tried to stay up straight and on his feet, not wanting to fall and hit his head again.
When he opened his eyes-or at least tried to-his vision was blurry, and so was his father's figure. The room was spinning and he felt sick to his stomach. His stomach was churning as a pounding head took place in his head, throbbing uncontrollably, causing his eyes to screw shut to block out the light that seemed to make it only worse. He had to lie down before he passed out right then and there, but when his cheek was met with another forceful impact, and was sent to the floor once again, he knew it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
He was able to break the fall with his hands this time, his forearms coming in contact with the hardwood floor of his living room. He groaned when he felt a sharp pain shoot through his left wrist, and through his elbow. He wanted to scream in pain if he could, but he didn't have the time when he felt fists ball up the back of his shirt and he was harshly brought back up to his feet. His father's mouth was moving when he peeked through his squinted eyes, but he couldn't make out any words because everything was muffled and fading in and out.
He wanted to read the man's lips, but it was too much for him to do at this point. Everything was literally spinning, and it was only making him sicker and sicker to his stomach. He was ready to pass out so all of this could finally be over. He was ready for it all to end permanently, and he knew that his happy feelings that he's been having lately was shortly going to come to an end, and he had a feeling this would be the cause of it.
"You're a piece of shit." Taehyung could only make out those few words that sneered from the man's lips, but everything hurt too much for him to even care about what he was saying at this point. Everything was so painful and all he wanted more than anything right now was for him to drop dead so he didn't have to feel anymore of this agonizing pain that surged through his small body.
The next thing Taehyung knows is he's being thrown to the floor once again, landing on his side. There's then a sudden impact to his stomach, his father's boot colliding with his stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He gasped and his eyes shot open, unable to scream or groan from the pain he felt, tears streaming down his porcelain cheeks as he tried rolling and getting away from the harsh kicks he was receiving, but he just couldn't.
Everything hurt.
Everything was fading.
Everything was spinning.
Everything was falling apart.
And he wanted to get away from it all.
When the kicking finally came to a stomach, Taehyung was sure there was a broken rib or two, if not fractured. He could barely breathe as his eyes remained tightly shut, jaw clenching as he prayed and waited for the pain to finally subside. His father kneeled down beside him, taking a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lighting it, taking a long drag out of it before blowing the puff of smoke into Taehyung's face, causing the brunette boy to cough and choke on the smoke.
He could make out the faint sound of his father's devilish laugh, causing him to turn his head and look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes and a slightly parted mouth, his body trying to suppress the coughing fit he desperately wanted to have. His father put the lighter and pack of half-empty cigarette carton back in his shirt pocket as the one he had between his lips stayed their lazily.
"Are you going to go slit your wrist again because you still don't feel loved by anyone?" His father asked with a wicked chuckle, and he could hear his mother do the same. The tears had finally stopped, his emotions coming to a halt and shutting them down completely. It was like some switch was flipped and he could no longer feel the pain or the anger he felt from this whole thing. His mind was on one thing and one thing only, however, and at this point, he didn't even care anymore. "Go ahead, because it won't fucking bother me not one bit."
Maybe it was time to try and end it all again.