Please, Daddy, Don't
Series: Yu-Gi-Oh!Characters: Joey, Tristan, Joey's father
Warnings: Contains child abuse
Pairings: None
Summary: A short drabble about Joey when he was little and being abused by his father
oOo
He was ten-years-old, only ten-years-old, and he had already gone through more pain than people many times his age had gone through. What made it all the worse was that it was his own father that had caused it. Joey's parents had been fighting for years, yelling and screaming at each other, sometimes it even got violent. He and his little sister, Serenity, would hide as far away as they could, clinging to each other for comfort. And then they got a divorce, his mother taking Serenity. At first it was slightly better, there wasn't any more screaming and it was quiet, too quiet. Joey missed his sister deeply, longing to have someone to talk to. His father pretty much ignored him, just coming home after work and plopping down in the living room to watch the game. Then one night it all changed.
Joey had been in the living room, playing with a toy car he had been given by a classmate, when his father came home. There was something different about him, something off, something sinister. Joey could smell alcohol on his breath. The only other times he had smelled like that was when he on occasion went out drinking with some friends. Then he had looked happy and a bit silly, now he was neither.
"What are you doing, you damn brat?! Get out of my way!" Joey's father almost tripped over him on his way to the couch. He looked pissed as hell, stumbling and bleary eyed.
"What's wrong, Daddy? Are you alright?" Joey was worried about his father; he didn't normally act like this.
"Shut up, brat!" He slumped down on the couch, looking dejected.
Despite his father's harsh words, Joey came closer, sitting down in front of him. "Daddy, did something happen at work?" He tilted his head to the side, looking the picture of innocence; his blonde hair and the white shirt he was wearing making him resemble an angel.
"I don't have a work anymore. I got fired today." It explained why he had been drinking and why he was so upset.
"It's okay, Daddy, you can find another job. It'll be okay." A small hand reached to take the man's much larger hand, to comfort him.
It was forcibly slapped away. "Fuck off, ya damn brat!" Joey's father stood now, towering over his young son. Joey shrank back, scared. His blonde father was an imposing figure, and he was just a little kid. He should've seen the kick coming, but was too shocked to see it in time to move out of the way. Joey let out a gasp as the foot made contact with his stomach, sending him flying back to hit the coffee table.
That was only the first time. His father would beat him many times in the days, months, and years to come. The teachers at school would sometimes notice cuts and bruises on him, and that he was limping, but they never said anything.
One day his best friend, Tristan Taylor, was over at his apartment. They were reading comic books and just talking about random, silly things, when Joey's father came in. He looked more sober than usual, which cheered Joey to see.
"What are you doing, Joey? Who's this?" he asked, sounding normal.
"This is my friend, Daddy, Tristan. We just read this one comic book that he got from America, well it's in English so we really just looked at the pictures, but it's about this-" He was cut short by his father pulling him out into the hall. "What is it, Daddy? What do you want?"
"I want you to stay quiet!" He lashed out with his fist, catching the boy hard in the jaw then hitting him again in the chest with the other fist.
Joey let out a scream of pain and fell to the floor, clutching at his injured jaw. Tristan had heard the scream and came running. He was just in time to see Joey's father round the corner, leaving the scene. "Joey, did your dad just…hit you?"
Joey stayed quiet, not daring to say anything. That had just been a warning, a warning not to tell anyone. If he did he was in for a world of pain, even more than the young boy was already in. He wanted so desperately to tell someone, anyone, but he didn't dare. He was afraid, afraid that if he did his father would go into a rage and kill him.
And so he stayed in silence, a helpless victim of a fate he could not control.
The End