Chapter One Finding Relief
A/N: Hi everyone! I hope all of you guys are excited to read the first chapter of the sequel to Untitled! Yay! :D I know it's been a long time... A very long time but I had to get the timeline of this story together and write at least the first 5 chapters before I posted anything up. Anyways I hope you enjoy and please don't be afraid to comment I would like to hear all your responses and if you have any ideas that you might have about this story please tell me
The late Saturday night was warm. The summer breeze blew softly through the trees, causing its green leaves to rustle and dance, their shadows flickering playfully over the quiet streets of the neighborhood.
It was quiet and dark, that's the best way Robert liked it as he silently walked home. His face was covered by the hood of his grey sweater that he wore to cover the bruises. His blonde hair covered his eyes, hands in his pockets as he slowly trudged home.
He did not want to go home.
He didn't think he could stand another night of looking after his father where the only thanks he'll get is a punch in the eye, a kick in his stomach or big rough hands, strong, cruel hands clasped tightly around his neck, causing Robert to gasp for air, causing him to plea pitifully in a hoarse voice to let go only to get an insult in return and the hands to become tighter around his throat, shutting off his air supply, spots obscuring his vision, the scent of alcohol on his father's breath.
"You bad little shit! Don't you dare beg for mercy!"
Dizziness, pain, It was all Robert could feel; all that was left in the world along with father's drunken words.
"You deserve it boy! Just like when your mother left, it's your fault!"
Robert stopped walking and caressed his neck for a moment where the handprints were still etched onto his skin. The memory made his face heat up with embarrassment and fear.
How could he let his father strangle him last night? Why wasn't he strong enough to prevent it from happening?
The answer; weak, coward, bad kid who deserved it ran through his mind. Robert glared at the tree next to him, shoved his hands back into his pocket and continued walking.
It was not always like this. No, there used to be a happy time at least what Robert can remember at a young age. It was a happy life, a happy childhood for Robert until it had turned to crap and that happiness had melted away leaving Robert in a home filled with violence and anger and darkness… until that distant happy childhood was only a memory, a distant memory of daddy teaching him to play basketball, tucking him in at night and sneaking him cookies before dinner without his mom knowing.
Mom...
Robert could remember how she used to be beautiful with her long blonde hair, her big smile that she always had when she watched Robert play or eat. Anything he did in fact brought that smile to her face.
The thought of her brought an ache to Robert's heart.
It was a dull ache, the kind that never went away. It was the kind that seemed to hurt more in that moment where you just laughed your head off at something and once your done gasping for air and you are starting to calm down, you realize that ache is still there, still hurting and that moment of happiness is then chased away; leaving it to hurt worse than ever before.
They were gone now, what his parents used to be.
Mom was as good as dead is how father had put it. To Robert she had simply just disappeared off the face of the earth never to be seen or heard from again and despite the aching in his heart just to see her again; Robert couldn't understand why he felt so much resentment towards her.
After all it was his fault she left…
It was Robert's fault for not being a good enough son to protect her and keep her from leaving. The small voice of guilt for thinking of it was his fault nagged in the back of his mind and tugged at his stomach but he pushed it away. House's words to him at the hospital six years ago had not stayed in his head. Robert tried to believe the young medical student but as time grew it got harder and harder to hold on to House's words until one day he simply believed father when he repeatedly yelled at Robert that it was his fault mom left.
His father... Well...
Robert let out a deep sigh and kicked a stone out of his path. Ever since that night six years ago father had succumbed more and more into drinking. It was not that bad at first but as time grew he sank deeper into the alcohol. That ment his beatings got harder.
Robert was blind to the truth … still believing it was all his fault for his mom leaving but one thing was now different than what Robert knew as a nine year old.
At nine Robert believed his father's beatings were only normal punishments. Now however at fifteen Robert knew they were not punishments, they were much more than that…
Robert was almost home now. He could just make out the outline of the roof of his house through the trees. His stomach flipped over in dread. He wished he didn't have to go inside. Robert could now see the whole house. Only one light was on, his father's study. How Robert wished he could just turn around and leave.
If only he can...
Anxiety now churned his stomach and he frowned at how sick he began to feel with dread as he walked to the front door.
Maybe he won't hear me come in.
Robert opened the front door and stepped inside. The house was completely dark with the exception of the slither of light coming from underneath the crack of his father's office. After another glance around the house to make sure his father wasn't hiding somewhere in the shadows, ready to attack and spew the fumes of nastiness and hate into him; Robert crept quietly towards the stairs.
Unfortunately he was barley on the fourth step when suddenly a rough pair of hands grabbed him by his waist and threw him off the staircase.
Robert shouted out in surprise as he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Father stood over him. His gleaming face was half hidden in the shadows. Shadows that Robert had imagined him hiding in.
"Where you've been boy!" he shouted.
Robert got over his shock and stood up.
"Out," he said as he clenched his fist.
"Don't speak to me in that tone!" his father slurred his words and slapped him hard across the face.
Robert spat out blood from his split lip and realized his father was drunk.
That did not surprise him.
Of course father's drunk! He's always drinking after work.
Robert glared at him, "Your drunk," he said and received another slap.
Robert turned his face back to his father and glared at him again, refusing to show any weakness or pain. All those years of practice and now Robert was a master at hiding his emotions.
"Come on father I'll take you upstairs to bed," he said.
He knew his father will pass out as soon as he laid his head on a pillow.
"Don't tell me what to do boy!" his father yelled again.
He socked Robert hard this time on the jaw. The fierce blow was a surprise to Robert and he completely lost his balance and fell on the hard wooden floor.
He quickly got up before his father could start kicking him, another thing that he had gotten good at; picking himself up off the floor before getting kicked in the gut.
"Come on father let's get you upstairs," he muttered taking his father by the shoulders and steering him up the stairs. It wasn't difficult; at fifteen Robert was tall enough to reach his father's shoulders.
They soon made it up the stairs and his father was muttering under his breath as Robert sat him down on his bed and took off his shoes before laying him down and covering him with a blanket.
"No good kid for a son," his father muttered before he closed his eyes and started snoring loudly. He only snored when he drank too much. Depending how drunk he was the louder he snored.
Robert took one last look at his father and turned out the light before closing the bedroom door quietly. He would never admit this to anyone but what father had said stung him and he couldn't help but feel a little put out.
What am I doing wrong?
How was he still a bad kid when he took care of his father when he was drunk?
He went inside his bedroom, changed into his pajamas without even turning on the light and threw himself on his bed. He laid flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts drifted away to the memory of when he was in the hospital six years ago, after he got hit by that car.
"I don't want you to help me," Robert's nine year old self had said.
"Why not?" Robert remembered House asking.
"Because if you do they'll take me away from my father and if that happens then I won't be there when my mom comes back. She won't find me if I'm not there."
"Robert I don't think..."
"Okay you got me convinced that none of this is my fault but I still have a feeling that she will come back I have to believe that because if I don't..."
"I understand" House said "I understand but just don't hate me when you come to regret this decision."
"I won't," Robert mumbled.
Regret.
That was what Robert felt right now.
House was right; he had been so stupid to believe his mother would come back. It's been six years already and nothing. No phone call, no letter or any news of where she was.
Shame washed over Robert's face making him feel lightheaded. How can he have been so naive to hope she will come back? She left and House was right that Robert would eventually regret refusing the help he offered.
He hated House for it, just as House had predicted it.
Robert had never heard from the young med student again after that night he confronted Robert's father. Robert just assumed he went back to the states but wherever House was he didn't care, he didn't want to see that man ever again.
Then just like that as Robert was lying there the feeling of need had suddenly entered Robert's body, like an electric shock jolting him out of his thoughts and he clasped his sheets tightly into his fist as he closed his eyes, trying to steady his rapid breathing.
He knew it was wrong.
He knew he shouldn't do it.
Robert knew it was a terrible thing to do but he had to.
The urge to literally feel the pain in his chest so it can go away was bursting out until he had no self-control left and then suddenly as if Robert was on auto pilot; he found himself out of bed, rummaging through his top drawer until he found what he was looking for.
He knelt down to the floor on his knees, holding up the precious object so its sliver blade gleamed in the moonlight.
Oh the relief this precious thing could give him, the key to letting out all the pain inside him.
He touched the sharp blade lightly with his fingers.
When Robert was thirteen; he and Chris were at a small liquor store. While Chris was paying for his sweets Robert eyed the small knife and quickly shoved it into his pocket without a moment's thought about it.
It was as if he was in a trance like state. Not worrying about getting caught, not even caring that he just shoplifted for the first time.
He didn't even know why he did it. Robert could just remember the sudden need to have it, he didn't even think about cutting himself back then. He just hid it away safely in his top drawer and knowing that cutting was wrong kept him away from actually doing it but now...
The pain, so much pain inside him. He needed it to go away.
Robert couldn't hold on to his self-control any longer. His skin practically tingled at the thought of the blade against his skin.
What would it feel like?
Will it burn?
Will it hurt just like how I'm feeling inside?
"That doesn't matter," the tiny voice in Robert's head whispered gently. "This is what you need to do. This will make it all go away."
Robert grasped the knife tightly into his hand. He was greeted with a small sting, it released an inch of the burden he was feeling and he sighed.
"Yes this will work," he murmured gently as he observed the tiny red cut on the palm of his hand.
Robert pressed the blade gently against his left wrist. At first he was met with the same stinging pain and to his satisfaction he saw the thin red line he had created. He pressed harder this time and was greeted with a flow of blood along with the burning pain. The wonderful hot burning pain as he made another line on his arm.
The relief! Oh he felt it!
The nice relief of the emotional pain inside him was gone as he felt the burning pain on his arm. If Robert had to describe what it felt like, what he felt like, it would be as if he was screaming at the top of his lungs, screaming out all of the pain inside him until it was gone and he was nice and empty inside.
The pain soon faded so Robert cut another line onto his arm right next to the last two he created that were already covered in crusted blood.
And just like his blood flowing away, so did the guilt of his mother leaving, so did the abuse his father inflicted on him.
"Don't show weaknesses boy! Stop crying you stupid brat! It's your fault your mother left!" Father's words echoed in his head making him feel dizzy.
It was my fault...
Robert sliced another cut in his arm, the burning pain taking it all away. The pain he felt from his father's words and beating, another slash in his arm and that too went away.
Robert looked down at his bloody arm. Four neat rows went down near the veins in his wrist. Robert looked blankly at them, his head feeling numb for what he just did.
He felt better, so much better.
He got up and went to the bathroom to rinse the bloody knife and clean the blood off his arms. As the cool water flowed over his red irritated skin, Robert wondered briefly what his father would do if he found out what he just had done to himself.
He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. He looked pale, sad, but the look in his eyes was different. They were swimming with the sense of relief of the pain inside him and Robert smiled sadly at his reflection.
If cutting's a way to deal with it all then so be it...
So did you like it? I hope I didn't scare you guys and if I did, don't worry I promise the cutting won't last long the poor kid is only searching for a way to deal with his problems. Okay I shouldn't say anything more. You guys have my permission to yell at me if you didn't like what I wrote by reviewing, but really I think it was a good chapter so please don't be too harsh. Oh and I know the weather is off from where chase is from, it's because I live in the u.s and I don't really want to spend a lot of time researching weather and what not lol.. oh and sorry for the bad grammer! I suck at grammer.
Chase'sGirl19