Run Away if You Have to, Especially if You Have an Abusive Father
Made by: Me
Alright, this is based off of a dream that I had last night, so hope you enjoy! Iceland is ten and Norway is twelve in this one. Don't worry that bad things are going to happen to them, they'll get out of it! :D
I walked through the large, golden doors to my father's big, expensive-looking house with my little brother, know what would happen if we came in late.
"Don't worry, if he tries to hurt you, then I will protect you," I said, looking down to the white-haired boy, who stared back with large, innocent, violet eyes.
"Yes, big brother," he said, nodding vigorously.
"No need to be so formal-like with me, for I won't hurt you like father would." I placed my finger to his lips as we walked further in and neared my father.
"Ah, your back!" my dad said in a cheerful tone that I knew was fake. "Now go to your room and clean up the mess that you made!"
"Yes sir," me and my younger brother said in unison, for we knew what would happen if we disobeyed.
Our grandmother had already disobeyed once. That first time, she got beaten. Next time, she did it to protect us. Then he shot her and she died hearing him laugh hysterically. Our stepmother had disobeyed. He beat her to death the first time. Our mother didn't have to face that, she died in a nursery fire.
We walked up the stairs quietly. Our father didn't like it when we made much ruckus.
I led my brother into our shared bedroom and looked at the mess that we didn't make.
"Father, we didn't make this mess!" I said to him, walking to the stairs.
"Really? Then what did, a ghost? Did the trash just get up and walk around your room, making a mess of it's own?" he retorted.
"No! We went outside and mowed the lawn, remember?"
"Duh, of course I do! You two idiots must have stayed up last night and made that mess!"
"No we didn't! We go to bed on time!"
"Yeah right! Now clean your fucking room!"
"We didn't make that mess!"
"Are you just going to live in that garbage then?"
"Why don't you come up here and clean it yourself, you low-life!"
That was it. I had pissed him off big time. He came up the stairs at great speed and slapped me across the face, on the side that he always hit me on. I looked up at him, not regretting a word that I said, with a defiant facial expression.
"Clean your damn room!" he shouted.
"You do it! You probably made the mess yourself just to make us have to clean it up!" I said back, not with quite as much volume as him.
He slapped me again, on the same cheek.
My eyes welled up with tears, as he had hit me harder. I turned tail on him and ran into the room that I shared with my little brother and slammed the door, locking it behind my back. My brother was staring at me with concern sparkling in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, at least he didn't beat me to death or shoot me or stab me," I said. "Don't worry, Iceland. We'll get out of this hell-hole soon enough."
He nodded and scrambled up, running up to me and wrapping his arms around me. I hugged him back, tears falling from my eyes now.
I pushed him away gently and smiled a small smile to him, though it hurt my cheek.
"We have to clean this mess up before that man sees that there is still a mess in here," I said, tapping his nose lightly.
He giggled and ran to the center of the room, picking up some of my books and putting them into the bookshelf. I walked to where he was and picked up his stuffed puffin and placed it on his bed. I then grabbed my stuffed bunny that was colored pink and placed it on my bed. Of course, we had bought those for each other out of the love of our hearts and hid them from our father, who would just tear the poor stuffed toys' heads off and throw them in the trash. I then picked up the papers and books that Iceland used for drawing and references and put the books away into the bookshelf. The papers, I put in a sack that we had and put the sack into a closet.
After a few minutes of cleaning, we had finished and were walking out of the room to tell our father that we had finished.
"Father!" I said.
"What do you want!" he asked, obviously still irritated with me.
"We've finished."
"Good. Now cook some dinner."
"We've got bread in the pantry and cheese in the fridge! Why don't you eat that while we buy some food?"
"No! That isn't a very good dinner! Find something and cook it, now!"
"There is nothing!"
"Then find something!"
"No! We will buy some food!"
"Lukas Bondevik Steilsson!"
"What?"
Suddenly, he was walking over to me. My eyes widened as he reached out and grabbed a handful of my blond hair and ripped the cross-shaped hair pin that I used to hold my hair back out of my hair. It pulled a bit of hair out of my head, but not much. I winced and whimpered in pain as he then dragged me away by my hair. I looked back and saw little Iceland reach down and pick up the hair pin with care as he started to cry. This time, I couldn't reassure him. Tears were falling from my eyes and I sobbed loudly, afraid of losing my life to this bastard.
He dragged me to the kitchen and threw me onto the ground. I hit my head on the wall and yelped out in pain.
"Take it! Take the pain like a man!" he shouted. "Now cook me some damn dinner and then go to bed!"
"No!" I shouted. "I'm not doing anything for an old man who killed my family members right in front of me and my little brother and hurt me in front of him! What's next, are you going to stab me to death!"
He gritted his teeth and then kicked me in the ribs.
I screamed and coughed blood out of my mouth as a sickening snap was heard from my ribs. I looked up and saw a flash of white hair behind my father. He was then hit in the back with a bat. He fell over. I realized that Iceland had knocked him out to save me.
I stood up and wrapped my arms around my brother, whispering words of thanks to him. I then moved back and grabbed him gently by the cheeks to look him in the eyes, after one glance, I hugged him again and started to sob. I felt him put my hair pin back into my hair.
I moved back and wiped my tears off of my eyes and cheeks. I then held my hand out to him, which he grabbed willingly.
"Come, we must pack some food, lots of water and special belongings so that we can run away," I said.
Iceland nodded and we went to our room, getting bags and putting special belongings into them such as a few books, the stuffed toys that we had given each other, some clothes, bathroom things like tooth brushes, combs, soap for our bodies and hair, and toothpaste. We then went to the kitchen, stepped over our unconscious father, got a whole bunch of water and some food; we could survive without much food so we brought enough for once a week type of eating. We couldn't survive long without water because we would get dehydrated kind of fast, so we brought a WHOLE bunch of water.
We walked to the front door and were surprised to see our grandmother and step mother standing there, waiting for us.
"M-Mom? Grandma?" I asked.
"Yes, we came to guide you. Your real mother will be hear soon," said our grandma.
"We were expecting you two to do this sometime. I am really your aunt, your mother died in a fire Iceland," said our mom's twin sister.
We both nodded. My eyes widened as a figure started to slowly appear. It was our real mother.
"Mom!" I said. She wrapped both me and Iceland into a hug, which we gave back willingly.
"Come, we must go now, little ones," our mom said in her honey-sweet voice.
We walked out of the large, expansive-looking house and looked up at the angel statue in front of it. It was posed in a praying position and it slowly started to move it's lips.
"It's giving us a blessing because you boys are so good. How about that?" our aunt said, smiling.
Iceland smiled his innocent and sweet smile while I just held him close to me in a protective fashion, staring down at my feet.
We rushed down the sidewalk and across the street where everyone was walking and started towards the desert.
