THE FIRST HIT
Clinton Barton had been a very explorative 4 year old; he liked to climb and run around and play with his older brother Barney.
He usually had free reign of the house, his brother ever so often stopping him from the more dangerous things: putting a penny in the socket, pulling the iron onto his head, eating loads of chocolate, etc.
One day, Clinton was brought out of his dreamland of brightness and light, and dragged kicking and screaming into the real world of pain and bitterness.
Clinton had been roaming about the house, when he spotted a huge bottle filled with amber looking liquid inside of it. Realizing that he was thirsty, Clinton thought that this was the apple juice his brother Barney kept giving him every day. Clinton began to rise onto his tip-toes and jump up for the bottle…. On his third attempt he was successful…. In knocking the bottle to the ground and shattering it.
Clinton started to wail loudly, upset that he had dropped his juice. Harold Barton, upon hearing the racket, stormed into the kitchen.
He spotted the shattered whiskey and the wailing child "You little punk, you think it's okay to knock over my booze?" Harold picked up Clinton underneath his arm pits "Stop your yapping!"
Clinton became very scared at his father's loud voice, which only increased his wailing. Harold, getting fed up with the noise, set Clinton back on the ground. "You got two seconds to shut the hell up boy"
When the two seconds were up, and Clinton's wails hadn't ceased, Harold took his big beefy hand, and swiped the boy clear across the room.
Clinton's tiny body flew across the room to land painfully on the carpet a little ways away. Harold walked over and bent down and looked at Clinton "That'll teach you to shut your fucking trap….. And next time, stay the hell away from my whiskey boy….."
Clinton, not wanting to upset his father further – closed his eyes and waited for Harold to walk away.
And after this day, Clinton was never an explorative child… He stuck to his room, and tried his hardest to stay away from his father. As the years progressed it didn't stop Harold, or even Edith (his mother) from hitting him….. Until they died in a car crash.
