Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts and I do not make any profit from this story.
Author's Note: Ok, so this is really something different to what I usually write. It's very dark, for one thing, a much different writing style. It's actually an experiment, to see how it would come out. I think it turned out ok, but there's a bunch of parts I falterd on. I'm also trying to break away from my writer's block...yes, again. Lovely, eh?
Anyway, this is the result of listening to Impossible by Manafest for about 2 hours straight.
Enjoy?
Warnings: Language, abuse
Crying and hiding this feeling
Running and fighting for freedom
"You worthless piece of shit!"
The fist connects with his face, breaking his nose instantly, busting his lip. Tears spring to his eyes, he closes them, willing himself not to cry. Crying won't help him, it only makes it worse.
The demon controlling him is not satisfied with the silence. He's never satisfied. A few rough kicks to his side, he tries so hard to keep from crying out in pain.
"Look at me, bitch!"
His head is yanked up roughly, rough fingers tangling impossibly tight in his honey-blond hair. A punch to the stomach makes him gasp and double over, blue eyes flying open, staring up at the man. His father.
"Please…" He coughs, "Stop. Dad, please!"
"Pathetic!" He's thrown to the floor, watching as the devil himself staggers out of the kitchen. Once he is gone, only then do the tears flow freely.
~~~
This is the last time, I'll cry lullabies
All night can't sleep I hear the floors creek
He lies on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, body bruised and aching. Only one word runs through his broken mind, why? His heart, slowly shattering, cries out for someone, anyone to save him from this living hell.
He can't sleep. He's scared that he'll come. The floor boards creak out in the hall and freezes, body tensing. It feels like hours before he releases a breath he doesn't even realize he's holding. He's safe…for now.
I feel shadows in my room
My friends find another bruise
I'm a end up on the news
I just don't know what to do His room used to be his sanctuary, his place to heal, but even that's ripped away from him. Fear that he will come in at any time takes over his mind. He's jumping at every little thing. He opens his eyes, swears he is there. It's his imagination. Shadows are taking over. Now he'll never be safe.
The bruises are more frequent. His friends are growing suspicious. He's sure they uncovered the truth. They know. Fear grips him, because he knows they'll tell, and oh God, he's not ready for that. He doesn't want to be on the news, he doesn't want the world to know how broken and vulnerable he is.
But he doesn't know how much longer he can take this pain. It hurts so much, the answer's there, but he won't acknowledge it. He's too afraid to.
~~~
God I'm calling you
Send an angel send two
I want to move but I'm trapped in the outer room
I know you hear me clearly I'm weary
Come and fill me with your power heal me
Every night he prays to God, end the pain, help me please. Send an angel, I want this pain to end. Heal me. Please.
He doesn't know why he keeps praying, he's suffered for so long now. But he needs something to hang onto, to believe in.
It seems impossible for me to let this go
Feel like an animal, I'm ready to lose control
Take everything you need, take every part of me
Take every part of me give me some room to breathe
"You ungrateful brat!"
The beatings are worse, much worse than they've been. He isn't sure what he's done to deserve it, but it's his fault somehow. It always is.
"I clothe you, feed you, give you a roof to live under and this is how you repay me?"
He cowers, backing up as the hand reaches for him, grabbing him by his hair, yanking him forward. He closes his eyes tightly. He wants to beg, he want this to stop. He hates not being able to do anything but take the pain.
"Look at this place! It's a mess! I told you to clean it!"
"I-I'm sorry!" Please God, help me! He's falling to his knees now, left breathless by a punch in the stomach.
Why won't this end?
I got to get away
Got to break away
Save Me
Got to find away
Got to break the chains
Take me
Before I lose control
Before I lose control
It seems impossible
It's not impossible
He knows he can't take much more of this. There has to be a way out. He needs to get out before it's too late. Before his heart shatters completely. He's praying again, it's become a habit, his way of coping.
I'm tired so tired of walking through this fire
If you want to find me I'll be here in my room
I'm thinking your drinking,
Need to get out before you start swinging
Wish I could show you all the pain inside me He's in a never ending hell, and he's so tired, so very tired. He cuts himself off from the world. He hasn't been in school for two weeks now. He doesn't have the energy to leave his room to answer the phone or door. He can hear his friends calling to him, asking him if he's ok.
He is drinking again. He wishes he could just lock him out, but no, he has a key and that would never work.
He doesn't want to be found. He doesn't want to face another beating. He knows his he'll never be able to withstand another one.
Sinking deep ducking under your swinging, out a commission
Living cold day's hallways filled with the mistakes
Wish I could show you all the pain inside it's caused me
It used to be a house, a home now it's neither yo
So I'm leaving with the cross strapped to my soul
It doesn't matter where he goes. He always finds him. He's blamed for something else, he sees the fist, and ducks before it can connect with his already marred face. He doesn't like that, grabs for him.
He crab-crawls backward, desperately wishing for an escape. He's faster, grabs for him again, but this time he's had enough. He lifts a foot, kicks him in the face, watches him stumble backward, clutching at his nose.
He's filled with such anger, he shakily gets to his feet, glares.
"I'm sick of being your punching bag! You have no idea how much I hate you! I trusted you!"
"You fucking little—"
"No! You shut up! I don't know what your fucking problem is! I'm your son, dad! Or at least I was."
Despite the hurt, the physical and mental pain, he feels a renewed strength. He turns, walks to the door.
"Hey! Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
He doesn't answer, keeps walking. He's leaving. He's done here. He goes to his friends, breaks down. He's so relieved, he thought it would be impossible. But he did it. He broke away.
Author's Notes: Told ya it was dark. I'm still surprised I actually wrote that. I know my stories are angsty and drama filled in the first place, but this is definitely a first for writing about abuse. I'd love to hear your guy's opinions on this story. ^^