The Sixth
Author Note: I do not own Animorphs but I do own this twisted new story line and my original character, Alex.
Disclaimer: This follows what would be the original sixth Animorph. It follows the same timeline except that it has a new character, Alex.
My name is Alex.
I can't tell you my last name or where I live. Even if I could I wouldn't want to, it's too embarrassing.
You may believe that the stories I'm about to tell are imaginary or I just made them up, but believe me, I wish they were.
I never really had a good home life, nor even a satisfactory. And this is where the story begins.
I walked in the door, trying my hardest not to make a sound, I'm already out way past my curfew. If my old man found out well lets just say I don't want him to find out.
I walked ever so gently up the stairs. No sound, so far so good. Step by step by step by step. The fifth step. The one that my father kept creaking so he could hear me sneaking back in.
I toke a breath. I lifted my foot. Pressed my toe down. Put me wait one it and.
CREAK!
I heard them moving. His low mumbles. He was going in his closet. Going for his belt. I knew what I had to do. And I had to do it fast. I quickly ran up my stairs, not caring for sound I had to get in my bed ``Th. I got to the top of the stairs. I saw the door opening, the little sliver of light becoming bigger. His shadow appearing more and more. I raced, the fastest my legs would take me. My door, the last obstacle in my direction.
"Staying out late again are ya?" He said, in a low raspy cool voice.
I turned to face him. "No, I was just going to get some water."
His lips curled, "Where's the cup?"
"I drank it down there!" I snapped a little too harshly.
"You're only making it worse, boy!" He snapped back. "Just come over here and accept your punishment."
"No." I said astonishing even myself. I had never stood up to him before.
"Now you're in for it!" He yelled.
He started at me, his belt tight in his hands. Every quaking step, a step closer to my fate.
One step. Two step. I calculated about three steps left. Three steps. Four steps. Five steps.
He was right in front of me. Breathing right in my face.
"Turn around, boy." He said low, cold and raspy. I hesitated. "I SAID TURN AROUND!" He bellowed so loud, my knees almost gave way.
I did as I was told. I turned around. He kicked my knees forcefully, I fell onto my hands and knees.
"So, your such a big shot, staying out late?" He said and pulled my shirt up, off my back leaving it exposed.
"What were you doing out this late?" He asked. I said nothing. He withdrew his arm and slapped my bare back with the belt. "WHERE WERE YOU?" He bellowed again.
"I was out with my friends." I said starting to tear at my eyes.
"That's not good enough!" He yelled and slapped my back three more times.
My father is a short man but he is not weak. If he would ever slap you in the back, you'd be bawling like a baby, no offense.
"I was at Timmy's!" I yelled not knowing what else to say.
He didn't like that answer. He knew Timmy. He knew what Timmy was into.
He slapped my back five more times. One of my elbows collapsed. I fell.
He bent down next to me, "get up." He said quietly.
I got up. He was quick. He put the belt around my neck and squeezed. Just giving me enough air.
Now was the questioning part. I know his game far too well. First, strike till I collapsed then, in my weakened state pump answers out of me.
"Why were you at Timmy?" He asked.
"I was playing video games." I barely gasped out.
He spat in my face.
"Why were you at Timmy?" He asked again.
I knew, he knew the real answer. I wasn't going to give in though.
"Video." Was the only word I could gasp out.
"Why were you at Timmy?" He asked angrily.
I gave in, no more options, he won.
"Usual." I gasped.
He released my threshold, the only thing keeping me up. I feel to the ground. He struck me once more and left.
I lay there for 5 maybe 10 minutes I couldn't quite keep track of time. After a while I crawled into my room.
I pulled a box from under a secret compartment under my bed. In there, was what I needed.
I pulled out the joint and the lighter. Lit up and had a smoke.
Author Note: I do not own Animorphs but I do own this twisted new story line and my original character, Alex.
Disclaimer: This follows what would be the original sixth Animorph. It follows the same timeline except that it has a new character, Alex.
My name is Alex.
I can't tell you my last name or where I live. Even if I could I wouldn't want to, it's too embarrassing.
You may believe that the stories I'm about to tell are imaginary or I just made them up, but believe me, I wish they were.
I never really had a good home life, nor even a satisfactory. And this is where the story begins.
I walked in the door, trying my hardest not to make a sound, I'm already out way past my curfew. If my old man found out well lets just say I don't want him to find out.
I walked ever so gently up the stairs. No sound, so far so good. Step by step by step by step. The fifth step. The one that my father kept creaking so he could hear me sneaking back in.
I toke a breath. I lifted my foot. Pressed my toe down. Put me wait one it and.
CREAK!
I heard them moving. His low mumbles. He was going in his closet. Going for his belt. I knew what I had to do. And I had to do it fast. I quickly ran up my stairs, not caring for sound I had to get in my bed ``Th. I got to the top of the stairs. I saw the door opening, the little sliver of light becoming bigger. His shadow appearing more and more. I raced, the fastest my legs would take me. My door, the last obstacle in my direction.
"Staying out late again are ya?" He said, in a low raspy cool voice.
I turned to face him. "No, I was just going to get some water."
His lips curled, "Where's the cup?"
"I drank it down there!" I snapped a little too harshly.
"You're only making it worse, boy!" He snapped back. "Just come over here and accept your punishment."
"No." I said astonishing even myself. I had never stood up to him before.
"Now you're in for it!" He yelled.
He started at me, his belt tight in his hands. Every quaking step, a step closer to my fate.
One step. Two step. I calculated about three steps left. Three steps. Four steps. Five steps.
He was right in front of me. Breathing right in my face.
"Turn around, boy." He said low, cold and raspy. I hesitated. "I SAID TURN AROUND!" He bellowed so loud, my knees almost gave way.
I did as I was told. I turned around. He kicked my knees forcefully, I fell onto my hands and knees.
"So, your such a big shot, staying out late?" He said and pulled my shirt up, off my back leaving it exposed.
"What were you doing out this late?" He asked. I said nothing. He withdrew his arm and slapped my bare back with the belt. "WHERE WERE YOU?" He bellowed again.
"I was out with my friends." I said starting to tear at my eyes.
"That's not good enough!" He yelled and slapped my back three more times.
My father is a short man but he is not weak. If he would ever slap you in the back, you'd be bawling like a baby, no offense.
"I was at Timmy's!" I yelled not knowing what else to say.
He didn't like that answer. He knew Timmy. He knew what Timmy was into.
He slapped my back five more times. One of my elbows collapsed. I fell.
He bent down next to me, "get up." He said quietly.
I got up. He was quick. He put the belt around my neck and squeezed. Just giving me enough air.
Now was the questioning part. I know his game far too well. First, strike till I collapsed then, in my weakened state pump answers out of me.
"Why were you at Timmy?" He asked.
"I was playing video games." I barely gasped out.
He spat in my face.
"Why were you at Timmy?" He asked again.
I knew, he knew the real answer. I wasn't going to give in though.
"Video." Was the only word I could gasp out.
"Why were you at Timmy?" He asked angrily.
I gave in, no more options, he won.
"Usual." I gasped.
He released my threshold, the only thing keeping me up. I feel to the ground. He struck me once more and left.
I lay there for 5 maybe 10 minutes I couldn't quite keep track of time. After a while I crawled into my room.
I pulled a box from under a secret compartment under my bed. In there, was what I needed.
I pulled out the joint and the lighter. Lit up and had a smoke.
