Okay, standard disclaimers and shit here. I'm only going to put it once because I'm seriously depressed at the moment.
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts is NOT mine. I don't care who thinks I own it, I don't, so you can't sue –nya!-
A/N: Alright, the song title is from a Martina McBride song. The song Concrete Angel is very lovely and heartrending. If you were to watch the video, I'm almost positive you would cry. Now, you can take this either way, so I'm not going to say it's Shonen Ai or whatever, but know that's how I am. Enjoy the fic minna.
-Prologue-
A cry fell through the house before silence, then the sound of a door slamming and a car peeling away. In a bedroom on the second floor, a teenager slowly picked himself up from the floor, a hand coming to where he'd just been backhanded across the face, the sting of tears in his eyes at the cold pain that accompanied the touch. He moved slowly to the bathroom and looked at the growing redness that would soon blossom into a bruise before looking down at the sink, silver strands of hair falling forward. He had school tomorrow, and this one wouldn't be as easy to cover up.
He didn't look in the mirror again, simply heading back to his bedroom and crawling into bed, pulling a pillow to his chest as he closed his eyes, refusing to give into the tears threatening. He couldn't let his friends see this one...or they might try to tell someone. And that was the last thing he wanted. If they told someone what his father did to him, then he would leave, and he wouldn't have his friends anymore. He swallowed a lump as it came to his throat, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. He wouldn't have his friends; he wouldn't be able to see his best friend's cheerful face in the mornings, hear his laugh, watch him lounge on the beach and fall asleep only to wake up by a toe in his ribs. A tear slipped free to fall over the ridge of his eye to the pillow he still clutched to him. He wouldn't live without that.
So, he would hide it still, and no one would know. He buried his face further into the soft down feathers that made up his pillow, holding onto it tightly in order to muffle the soft sobs that were now coming from his throat. He wouldn't let go...never.
TBC
So, what did you all think? Good enough or needs work? Ha, if you think it needs work, it won't get it. I'm done with it, but I'm going to wait a bit before posting the next chapter. The review button says feed me, I say critiques improve writing. –shrug- Whatever you want. If you just want me to post the next chapter, let me know! I'll try to give a line out to whoever says anything.