Title: Shattered Lives and Shattered Souls

Rating: T

Warnings: Child abuse, self harm…More to come?

Summary: The Mitchells were the perfect family, until the heart of the family dies leaving an abusive father and a scared son to pick of the pieces.

Authors Notes: Why am I so friggen' evil? And…I can't seem to update anything lately! I just—really needed to write this okay? Geez.


Before the beatings started the Mitchell's were the perfect family. Mrs. Mitchell had a green thumb and in the summer would be the envy of the block; even Kendall's mother could be seen admiring the flower garden out in the front of their small home. It was the most beautiful home; Logan can even remember the smell of the air that would waft into his senses when entering his house. It always smelled of vanilla. Logan's mother would constantly bake and the whole house would smell of vanilla cookies, or apple pies. It was a true American home. But, not everything lasts soon Logan's mother became ill, and the flower garden, just like her, wilted away to nothing.

This is where we introduce Logan Mitchell's father; Bradley.

Bradley Mitchell was the perfect father; when Logan was born he more than overjoyed to have a son to teach baseball, football but most of all hockey. They even decorated Logan's room with Minnesota Wild gear, it was perfect. Logan's father worked full time as an Editor at the local newspaper; North Star. He had the perfect job the perfect wife, house and most of all, the perfect son; he had the entire package. When Mrs. Mitchell got sick so did he; not physically but mentally. He couldn't seem to come out of the depression that soon over took him and his home life before long all he had left was his son. His perfect life was wiped away within a few months. It literally shattered his very core he was infuriated, it caused him to be irrational and angry with what he had left; with only one person to take the brunt of his frustrations.

Logan Mitchell was fourteen when everything just, stopped. Nothing seemed to move after his mother's death. School, friends, everything; it just stood still. He'd like to say that he had people who cared for him after his mother became ill, he'd like to talk about how his father was there every night comforting him after she died. But he wasn't, physically he was, especially so after he got himself fired. Logan's father had gone into work one day so drunk that he'd stopped off on the wrong floor, which is saying something considering there was only two to pick from. He walked off of the elevator and sat down at the wrong desk, when they tried to escort him from the building he'd hit both of the security officers and ended up in jail for two nights.

So after Bradley went and got himself fired he'd lost everything. The only thing left was his newly paid off mortgage and Logan, his only child.

Mr. Mitchell seemed to forget that he had a son after his wife's death; he stopped buying food for the house, stopped giving Logan lunch money, buying him clothes, and soon caring altogether. Logan could cry, and feel sorry for himself but he just, couldn't, not when he knew there were people worse off. He took solace in listening to his friends problem; his friends, Kendall, James and Carlos. He's known them since before he can remember; they were the only constant in his life.

The neglect Logan could take, he did have his friends after all, and if he was hungry he'd just eat what they had left in their lunch boxes or on their lunch trays. And when they asked him where his was day after day, he'd just laugh and say he forgot, or he didn't think he'd be hungry.

But when the beatings started he just couldn't. He was weak; the physical and mental pain of it all was too much. He knew that if it didn't stop soon he'd surely commit suicide or give himself over to the relief of drugs. So, now as he was lying on the comforting carpet of his living room floor, a demolished glass coffee table scattered about the room with blood oozing from each individual cut on his hands, neck and face, as a result of being thrown on top of it face forward; he thought about how much he'd rather be staving in Africa right now then facing his friends tomorrow morning at school.

Tears welled in the teens eyes as he looked at his shaky hands; they were matted in several deep cuts, glass still protruding in some places. He took his left hand and brought it towards his right and reached for a small piece of sharp glass sticking out of his pinky, cutting so deep it looked as if his digit would fall off. 'Shit' he thought. As much as Logan didn't want too lose his finger, facing his father right now may mean certain death, and as much as he'd like to be out of his dad's life; he knows his friends would be devastated.

Logan picked himself up off of the ground, careful not to get any new cuts, and made his way to his bedroom. He looked at the half broken mirror in his bedroom hanging above his empty dresser and didn't like what his eyes revealed. He had a black eye, a nice cut to the forehead, one under both of his eyes, one of his chin his lip was split and there were various glass fragments sticking out of his pale skin. It looked like someone's face after losing a fight with Jason in one of those Friday the Thirteenth movies. He sighed, he couldn't go to school like this, everyone would know, he knew it. His phone soon rang and before Logan could even think he was picking up the call.

"Uhh..Hello?" Logan asked his voice very unsure. He cleared his throat. "I-I mean… Hello?"

"Logan! Good god! Are you okay! My dad! He said he heard screaming at your house and then like, braking glass and…Well, before he broke down any doors he wanted me to make sure you were alright. Are you?" Logan couldn't think, Carlos couldn't know, not his biggest secret he just-couldn't.

"Oh uhh, yeah I'm okay Carlos. My dad he uhh—He just got a little too into a game we were watching." He tried to assure his friend. Honestly, he would tell his friends in a heartbeat if it meant he would be out of this hell hole but, Logan knew he'd just be sent away, away from them; he couldn't deal with that.

There was silence on the other end for a while. "….A-are you sure? My papi says it sounded bad. He s-said he thought…He heard you screaming too." Logan couldn't breathe, if his father somehow found out about this conversation he would be so dead.

Logan faked a yawn that stretched out the small cuts on his face Logan stifled a groan; he closed his eyes and waited for the pain to subside. "Hey Carlos, can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm super tired and…yeah…So…"

"Oh…" His friend seemed hurt. "Yeah, okay. Well I'll just…See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you'll see me. I'll be there, kay? Night!" And with that he hung up his phone. It was a wonder his friend's hadn't found out sooner, two out of four of them lived in the same neighborhood James was the only one that didn't, and that's only because he moved when they were around seven to a huge house in a better one. Logan plopped himself onto his bed instantly regretting not thinking the action through when he was met with pure white hot pain in the entirety of his body. He whimpered against the pain, he knew this was bad, this time there might not be any way of saving himself from the questions his friends are sure to ask him.

Tears welled in his eyes when he thought about the next days events, the first person he'll be seeing is James, James has his homeroom. Logan put a bloody hand up to his mouth as he started to sob. The pressure hurts but not as much as knowing this would most likely be the last day he saw his friends.

Logan woke up early and realized that he hadn't dressed his wounds the night before he looked down worriedly at his hanging pinky finger. Although Logan did, one day want to become a doctor he didn't know how to stitch something like that up s he just wrapped both his hands in gauze.


I feel like the spacing in this is kinda hard to read. o_O Anyway, guys I KNOW this has been done like a billion times before but I needed this! NEEDED IT! So if you liked didn't think it was a complete waste of your time and want me to continue please review.