I sat in the park, like I always did in the afternoons. I enjoyed feeling the sun kiss my skin on days like this, but any weather was fine; like when it was snowing, raining,or sunny, I liked sitting here in any weather. It was always quiet. A nice change. My home was loud. Full of plates smashing, yelling, really it was anything that would scare any normal person. This was the only place where I had my thoughts and only my thoughts. Home was where I was thrown, hit, and abused. So, in result, everyday after work, I come here. I know that my folks wouldn't care even if I were to die in a car accident.
It was sunset. A place where the sky would glow a light pink and started to fall asleep behind the mountains. I loved having quietness everywhere. Not a car in sight for miles. The park was abandoned, but it was still clean and unbroken. I could hear the trees rustling around me as if telling their story.
I sat there until late. When I was finally home from the long walk, my parents were no where to be seen but could be heard from a mile away. This was normal in my life. I grew up around it. Kind of a bad example to set for your child. Because of this I never got too close to people in fear that they would hurt me.
I took in a deep breath as I stood on my porch and took a step in. Right in the kitchen, exactly where I had expected them to be. They took no notice to me, but I still quietly mumbled a greeting to them. I had no clue what they were fighting about this time but it always would end up with me getting hurt in some way. At this thought I walked up to my room. Before I got there, my dad stopped me and pulled on my wrist to get me closer to him. I winced in pain.
"Look, Cherri! Look at him! HE. IS. WORTHLESS!" my father screamed. I was slightly taken back by the comment but I refused to let my emotions show.
"No, Darian. You look here, you bastard! He may be worthless in all ways, shapes, and form, and I could care less if he just died here and now! But I think he should just leave before I change my mind!" mom retorted. I decided it was the smart thing to just keep quiet and allow them to blow off some steam. My feet wouldn't let me move anyways. I was just too shocked by all their comments. They were talking as if I wasn't even in the room. Dad's gripped loosened on my wrist as if he actually forgot I existed. I took this chance to slip away to my room where I could be alone, but I could still hear the yelling downstairs.
This continued for the next few hours. The house was still for a while. My parents probably fell asleep from the bickering. It was around 6:30 A.M. it started back up again. I stayed in my room, hoping that it would keep me somewhat safe. At around 7:00, the door slammed. I assumed that one of them had gone off to work.
Once again, the house was still, but that time was in vain. I heard steps coming up the stairs. I pulled the covers over my head, pretending that I was still asleep. My room door opened and my covers were ripped off of me. I tucked my legs into my chest from the sudden change in temperature. When I looked up, I saw my dad with a fierce look on his face. Without a sound, I was pulled out of my bed and onto the floor. This action was new to me, so I had no clue what was going to happen.
"You damned, little shit, you," his voice was deep as his blue eyes looked down at me with pure hatred. "If it wasn't for you, I could have been happy. I would have been happy if you never came into this world!" His foot came in contact with my abdomen causing me to cough. Dad kept repeating this motion until I was coughing up blood. I continued to cough up blood even as he stopped kicking me. At this point, his large hands grabbed my shirt collar and brought his fist up to his ear. I closed my eyes before it made any contact. It felt like my nose became inverted. It started to bleed, too. This time his punches were not concentrated in a single area, but hitting any place he thought would hurt the most. Soon, all this stopped. He left me lying on the floor, drenched in my own blood. Through the whole episode, I had not peeped a single sound besides the coughing. When he left the room, he looked at me, "don't come out of this room until you are told. Got that you shit?"
I gulped and nodded. For a while, I just sat there in agonizing pain. I couldn't take any pain pills or wrap my wounds, so I was just bleeding out. My lip was bleeding and a black eye was forming over most of my left eye and extended across my whole nose and half of my right. There was a bruise on my stomach. It was already a dark shade of purple when I took off my shirt. It made a shock of pain sizzle through my body. I willed myself to change from my night wear to my normal clothing of a short sleeve t-shirt with a jacket over it and a pair of long dark jeans accompanied by old, worn knock-off converse. I had a hat cover my head. It was a lilac colour, like my little brother's eyes. He ran away from home, not being able to take all the violence. His name was Matthew. I was his twin.
To be honest, I really do miss him, but this was better than what he could have ever asked. I would never want him to suffer through all that I have. When we were eight, he told me that he was going to run away. He wanted me to come with him. I did try to run with him, but I was the only one who got caught. I sacrificed myself in order to keep him safe. I guess you could say that I was a hero, or something. When I was caught, someone always had an eye on me in case I tried to sneak out again. I knew that Mattie was fragile, so I couldn't stand him getting hurt. Right before I was caught, we promised to meet somewhere if we were ever separated. We decided an old willow tree near the middle of the forest. I could never bring myself to go there, though. I couldn't risk getting found out. Mattie never broke a promise, though, so I was eventually able to get there without being followed by anyone. As I expected, he was sitting there on the bench I sat on at the park on a regular basis now. I told him that he couldn't come here everyday because it was too dangerous, and I couldn't come with him because our parents had put a tracker on me. The only reason I could get away was because I destroyed the thing they kept track of me. I knew I was going to get it bad when I got home in the morning. Since we couldn't meet at all, I promised him that once we turned 18 years old, we would come back here and finally get away for life. So, I haven't seen him for almost nine and a half years. Once I gained a little more freedom, meaning that I no longer had a tracker on me, I went straight there to see that Mattie left notes to reassure me that he was alright.
Time had finally caught up with me. I spent the whole day on my bed thinking about Mattie and what had happened. It was around 4:50 when the door of my room opened again. My father was there. I lied still. His fist came in contact with my right eye, making that one black as well. I expected more from him but nothing came. "Get out of my sight, shit," his eyes pierced my soul, "don't ever come around here again or I swear I will not hesitate to kill you and that shit brother for yours… Assuming he is alive." He snickered behind his hand.
When I heard this, my eyes widened in surprise. As he left, I got up as quickly as I could and started to pack some things that were precious to me and Mattie. I had a small black backpack and put two changes of clothes in it(including Texas(his glasses)), Mattie's hockey puck, and my baseball. I had also grabbed Mattie's hockey stick knowing that he would want it back when I saw him in 6 and a half months. I ran, well walked quickly, out of the front door without saying goodbye.
"Shit, come back here and leave your stuff at the front door." I did as I was told and quickly limped towards dad, "I think that I wanna give you one final kick down before you leave. Consider it my goodbye." There was an evil glint in his eyes. I couldn't stand for this, I was finally free. I didn't have to stand for this abuse anymore. When he grabbed my wrist, I pulled it back. Shocked as he was, he got closer and grabbed my chin to pull it up. I was now looking in to his bright blue eyes. "Now, won't you be good for your dear ol' daddy?" I only looked away.
Anger filled the man's eyes. His hands gripped my shirt. His right fist continuously smashed in to my stomach. I fell to the floor, gripping my stomach. A smile crossed his face. My stomach was kicked over and over again. I was coughing blood again. Every now any then he "accidentally" kicked my chest. He then picked me up by my hair and slammed me against the wall causing my head to start bleeding ever so slightly. Out of nowhere, he pulled out a leather whip. It was long and thin. I didn't want to think about what was going to happen next. My eyes closed as the whip started to make gashes all along my back. I was too terrified to scream, so any sounds I tried to make just came out as small gasps. When he stopped, I felt relieved. That feeling did not last long. I blanked out for a second.
When I came back to my senses, my hands were handcuffed to two pipes. They were on much too tight, so when I adjusted my position, they rubbed against my skin and felt as if they got tighter.
The room was familiar, but only a little. I probably only came here once or twice. The walls were a dark grey and there were no windows and only one door. There was a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room slightly. In the corner, was a human looking figure. Male and buff-looking. In his hands held the same whip that dad used on me, so I could only assume that the figure was my father. Tears were forming at my eyes. I didn't want this to happen.
The man finally appeared under the light, allowing me to see him clearly. It was infact my dad. He walked over to me and pulled up my chin. His mouth came over to my ear, "oh, how much fun are we going to have now… Alfred…" My body started to tremble. His tongue licked the side of my ear. Shivers coursed through my body, but I still couldn't move.
My father's hands snaked down to the hem of my pants. I knew what he was going to do and I was terrified out of my mind. As soon as his hands got to the hem, he quickly pulled them away. His grip on the whip got tighter as he stepped back and started to slash the front of my body. My clothes turned into nothing but shreds of cloth drenched in my own blood.
I was glad when he stopped, but I knew that it was far from over. My pants were practically non-existent anymore, exposing my body to the man I will never consider my father again. The boxers I wore were still there covering up the one area that I did not want this foul man to see. Although against my silent protests, he slip them over my blood covered legs. The air around us was cold but dense. Darian smiled inwardly.
His tongue started at my earlobe and traveled down my stomach to my nether regions. I gasped my the new stinging feeling. Before he did anything, he uncuffed one of my hands to flip me over. I was now face to face with a wall and a series of pipes.
A hand traced the scars on my back all the way down to my ass. The hand then groped it. I let out a moan. "Do you like this, boy?" I didn't speak. "Answer me, boy!" He demanded. I still refused to answer him. "Fine, I guess I'll have to use force to get an answer out of ya." A ball attached to a piece of leather was shoved into my mouth and tied at the back of my head. Suddenly, something thrust into my ass. I tried to scream, but the ball in my mouth was restricting me. It kept shoving in and out of me. When I looked back, I was somewhat relieved to see that Darian did not use his own body parts. It still hurt like hell. Tears were rolling down my face and made small puddles on the floor. My heart was beating faster and faster with every thrust. I just wanted it to end. Soon, I felt something squirt inside my ass. That was when the object was finally taken out of my butt.
I looked down to see massive amounts of blood pouring out of my body along with some clear gel. My eyes widened in shock. My whole body was numb and cold. I slumped where I was. A bundle of clothes were tossed my way and the handcuffs were taken off. Without a word I changed into the new clothes. When I thought I was able to leave, the handcuffs were back on my wrists holding my hands in place behind my back. Darian lead me to the door and covered my eyes with a piece of cloth. The ball was still in my mouth. I was lead somewhere, which I was hoping was the house I used to live in.
When my eyes were uncovered and the ball was removed, I took in a few deep breaths. I was back at the house. My former father forced me onto the ground and slashed me with the whip several more times. It felt like I was there forever, but in reality, I was only there for a few minutes. When he stopped he un cuffed my wrists and headed back to the couch.
"Get out of my sight… And never come back." He turned around and flipped on the small tv.
I hurried to the door ignoring my pain. All I wanted was to get out as fast as I could.
With the backpack weighing me down, I was much slower than usual. I eventually got to my bench under the willow in the park. When I got there, I plopped down making me shiver in pain. The sun was about to start setting, so I would have been here anyways if it was a work day. I looked up, admiring the sky, then laid down on my back. It was quiet for a little until I heard the sound of barking. A bit strange knowing that this was an abandoned park.
I saw a dog running up towards me. On instinct, I stood up but then fell due to the injuries. There was a man chasing the dog yelling, "England, come here, England!" The dog was still quite a ways away. I really wanted to move but my legs felt heavy as lead. The dog's sprint slowed as it got closer to me. Soon, it came to a full stop and just stared at me. I tried to get up again but the dog pounced on top of me. "England! Come here girl, Engl-" the man cut himself off and stared at me, too. "Dear lord! What happened to you?" the man had an English accent.
"Ah… Don't worry… Um, your, uh, dog…" I gestured to England.
"Don't mind him, we need to get you to a hospital. ASAP." The man took out his phone and dialed 911 and stared at me telling me that I need to stay with him. That became harder. My vision was turning dark but I tried to keep myself awake. "Sir, can you please tell me your name, please," he said with urgency in his voice.
"A-Alfr-fred... Al-fred F. J-Jones-s," I managed to get out. He nodded and continued on the phone. The man had blonde hair, brighter than mine, and green eyes that were like the forest on a summer day with literal forests above them. Before I passed out, I heard the blonde telling me the ambulance was on it's was here.