It was humid outside. The damp and sticky air wasn't out of the ordinary for summer in Phoenix. But to this extreme was abnormal even to the most feverish of seasons. A cooling wind systematically blew over the desert terrain and gave a breath of fresh air to all before the heat set in a moment later. In this area of town, not a soul was outside. Not a single body dared to brave the elements. Even the sounds of the city had died down considerably. It wasn't the best region to say the least. People in this area had little money and even less possession.
An old, beat up Volkswagen bug slumped against the sidewalk beside it. It's red paint was severely chipped and rust lined the doors and handles, it had long since been out of order. The houses that lined the street were as trashy as the car that slept before them. Their gates were broken and barely clinging to their hinges, and squeaked annoyingly every time the wind shuddered. The front lawns were no better, they were dried and deprived of water, which was evident from the large brown patches that dominated a majority of them.
It was accompanied with the unique soundtrack of the area. The howling wind laid the base tune of the music, it never ceased. Far off a car alarm went off, its beeping insistent and annoying enough to make anyone's ears begin to bleed. An audible fight between two dogs was off in another direction and only picked up every few minutes on when one got a tad to close to the other.
And so life continued like this. The dingy town slept onward and only ever changed when someone decided that they should attempt the impossible for a brief moment, only to be shot down and have life return to normal. Neighbors never spoke to one another and each person's business was their own. If something was witnessed that wasn't supposed to be let out into the open, they all went on like nothing had happened. No matter what the contents of it.
Unfortunately, one lonely, young boy was subjected to this. Constant fury. Constant anger. Constant abuse. He stayed perched in the window of his parent's own matching abode alongside all the others. His chocolate brown eyes were glazed over, fear and pain sparkled in them, he didn't even bother to hide it anymore. It had been too long and had happened to many times for him to even care. No one gave a shit about him, that was evident. If they had, this sort of thing would have never occurred. He just tried to think of other things, far away places, and perhaps the lives of other kids his age. Ones that didn't have this sort of thing to deal with.
He let out a low-toned exhale and felt the onset of tears prickle at his eyes as they had so many times before. The boy was curled in a tight ball, his knees tucked up near rosy cheeks. His pale, clammy hands gripped onto his thin calf as he excreted his pain by digging his severely chewed nails into the stringy muscle. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he wouldn't feel the hurt of the outside world any longer and he could finally be happy for once in his life. He was glad to be alone for the time being; alone with his thoughts and alone to dream. The boy had so many ambitions in life and he wanted each and every one to come true. He would just have to escape from this hellhole he considered everyday life first.
But the slam of the back door caused him to jolt from his fantasies and his head darted upwards so that his acute senses could aid him. It was silent until something came in direct and violent contact with another on the floor below him and the pounding of a furious person desperately searching for something or someone commenced. His heart leapt into his throat and the boy couldn't seem to breathe. No oxygen was getting through and his vision clouded, his body shook and he clambered down from the window sill, trying to be as silent as possible.
His hands were shaking while his lungs gasped for air as he attempted to find a good enough hiding spot as to serve as refuge. The small room only had one twin bed in the corner and a tattered dresser in the other and left few options. As slim black rims began to slip from the bridge of his nose, his desperate franticness forced them up to stay in place as he dove into his make-shift hiding spot under the bed. Involuntarily, his entire body began to shake in ultimate fear and distress and he couldn't seem to halt the process. He let his sepia tinted pools slide shut as he attempted the calm himself. He had to if he was going to successfully conceal his presence. A pale cheek rested against the dust-lined hardwood in an attempt to detect his most feared antagonist before his actual arrival. But as the footsteps began to approach and resonate more deafeningly, he found that the shaking only got consistently worse.
The unreliable frame of the door groaned as it was swung open with full force to slam into the opposite wall. An unsettling presence filled the room. Oh no... Fleshy lower lip began to quiver and his entire body became paralyzed in ultimate terror. Please, please don't find me. Silent, tepid trails of liquid began to trickle down from his lids and across his full cheeks to make miniature puddles appear on the wood below his refinely boned body. Foreboding footsteps resounded more closely than before and the boy didn't dare to breathe as the tattered shoes were inches from his face. A large man paused and the boy could hear him growl his own name. "Chester...where the fuck are you?"
The formidable opponent circled the room once before pausing, deep brown eyes widened, something was wrong. The antagonist crept closer once more and suddenly the sheet that concealed the thin boy was ripped away and a large man stood there, a malicious grin on his face. Bear-like nostrils flared in ultimate fury, a callused hand stretched out and grabbed the defenseless child by the collar of his shirt and dragged him out from under the bed. The boy grunted and whined in pain as his lose limbs struck the metal frame before his lifeless bodice was hoisted up above the ground so he was eye level with his adversary.
Chester felt a rush of blood to his head and his ribs threatened to burst as his lungs expanded in heated panic. "You little ..." A splintering pain was driven into his left cheek bone and the delicate skin that layered it sliced open and slick, crimson liquid splattered below them. At the junction of fist and face, the grip on the young boy's clothing was released and his thin body clattered to the floor. Breathing wavered and a pained groan forced more tears to trickle down his cheeks. His bones were painfully evident from beneath the thin black tee-shirt as his chest began to heave as he wept in estranged self-pity.
The man above him scoffed for a moment and then returned to his side for another go. "Get up!" His voice was coarse and made the emaciated youth cower just by the resonation. His refusal to move caused another blow, this time to his torso, to rack his thin frame. The brutal kick made his limp body convulse and lay still once again. Get up...get up! His mind screamed desperately for his body to react, if he didn't force himself to do as he was told, the consequences would only get worse. Frail arms shook as he placed his palms on the ground on either side of his body and attempted to use all of his remaining strength to push himself from the dusty surface. Adolescent morals ground against one another as underdeveloped muscles strained due to improper growth and despite his body's protests, got to his feet.
His knees were weak below him and his eyes struggled to stay open, maintaining consciousness was a vital factor to survival. His tuft of sandy hair hid dark irises as he stood before his oppressor as judgement awaited him within his iron grip. A moment later he was beside him, the mere shadow that hovered over him caused his shaking to commence once again and for the first time all day, his lips parted to speak in a wispy voice that shook much like his body was. "Yes?" He didn't dare glance upwards, that action alone would most likely earn him another bruise.
"Take off your pants..." A shudder vibrated throughout his thin corpse at the hollowness of his voice yet stood there unwilling to do as instructed by the oppressive force beside him. He only shook his head once and continued to stare off to no where in particular. The next phrase made the thin hair on the back of his neck stand on end, "What?" Chester could tell the man was boiling with rage and was trying his hardest not to beat the thin male into a bloody pulp. But still the boy refused. When an iron grip hand seized his neck his source of oxygen was immediately depleted and brunette irises flashed in horror up to the Devil's face. The muscled hand forced him back to crash into the wall directly adjacent and caused roots of pain to seep through the muscles in his back.
Helplessness. The man tore at his pants and a moment later they fell in a heap on the floor. The rest was a blur. Pain was all he seemed to remember before the world went black...