Glass shattered, screams echoed, and beatings ensued not long after. And this was only the begining.
A thin and frail boy hid behind his old matress, a blanket wrapped securly around quivering body. He stared forward and tried to drown out the horrible noises that came from the room right next to his own. Footsteps began to echo down the hall and he clenched his eyes shut, waiting for his door to be kicked in. Nothing happened. The footsteps passed by his room, a sliding noise trailing behind them. The boy shivered and pulled his legs up to his chest. Another scream...
He wished he was as strong as people thought he was...he wished he could be that smooth, cool guy who was never afraid to take chances. He wished that the abuse would stop. Of course, his voice was silenced and he could never be that strong.
His door suddenly slammed open and his eyes widened. A tall, dark figure stomped over to his bed and started to feel around violently. The boy held his breath and prayed that he would be spared tonight. The figure stopped and just breathed heavily as he looked around the darkness.
"Kenny...come out kenny..." he whispered dangerously.
Had he not been quivering, anyone could have swore Kenny was dead where he sat. He ceased breathing and stared straight forward, not even blinking. Silence; not a single sound was heard.
Kenny suddenly felt a strong arm reach around the bedside and pull him up by his messy blonde hair. He screamed and started to kick and thrash around in an attempt to free himself. His efforts were in vain, being that his small eleven-year-old body could not compare to the strength of a middle-aged, drunk man. The man threw Kenny down and he kicked the fragile boy in the ribs, making Kenny cry out and fall limp. He smirked and grabbed a lamp nearby. Kenny opened his eyes and saw his old, rusty lamp impact with his face. Clay shards flew everywhere and blood trickled down Kenny's face.
Kenny lay still and waited for the pain to cease. He felt himself being kicked, smashed, slapped; but he drowned out the pain with thoughts of death. Soon, it would be all over, and he would be ok the next day...just like old times...
Kenny soon noticed that the pain had stopped altogether, but he didn't feel cold and light like he always had in his previous deaths. He felt a little cold, but that was just because his window was open. He slowly opened his clenched eyes and looked around cautiously. Not seeing anyone in his room anymore, he slowly attempted to lift his upper torso, but winced and fell back down. The pain was unbearable, and he was sorry that he was still alive to feel it. A sigh escaped his pale lips as he realized his father must have passed out in the living room, finally becoming bored with him.
"K...Kenny?" a voice whispered.
Kenny's eyes widened and he jumped up, causing the other person to jump as well. He backed up against the wall, eyes wide in fright as the other approached him.
"Kenny...oh god, what happened to you...?" he said sadly.
Kenny started to shake his head slightly, afraid of the other coming towards him. He pulled back as he saw the figure reaching out his hand. The figure pulled back a bit and spoke softly, sadness in his voice.
"Kenny, it's ok...it's me...Kyle..."
Kenny stared forward, still unable to control his violent shaking. Tears started welling up in his eyes, and he fell to the ground. Kyle stared down at him, feeling his own tears forming. He knelt beside Kenny and pulled his frail body towards him, letting Kenny sob into his sweater. Kenny gripped his sleeve and cried as hard as he could, feeling Kyle starting to caress his back.
"Shh...it's alright...don't cry...it's alright..." he pulled Kenny as close to him as he could and tighted embraced him. "You'll be safe from now on...you won't ever hurt again...oh god..." Kyle let his head drop and he cried with Kenny.
"You'll come with me...kenny, you'll be safe with me..." Kyle whispered softly into Kenny's ear. Kenny nodded while still crying. He wished he could have been stronger...