James

James lay writhing on the ground after yet another one of his dad's fits. He grunted as another round of kicks were sent to his body. James tried to stay as still as possible, praying that his dad would think that that last blow to his face knocked him out. Hell, he really did wish that it knocked him out, because then he wouldn't have to deal with all this pain.

But just like every other time, his prayers went unanswered. James didn't even know what he did wrong this time, but that was nothing new. His dad didn't even need a reason anymore to beat the crap out of him. It could be that the last bottle of beer in the fridge was gone(because of him), or there was a grease stain on the floor, nevermind that the rest of the house was a mess (also because of him), or just cause he felt like it, which James was pretty sure was the reason for today's beating.

He gave James a couple more kicks to the back and stumbled away to the couch to sit his lazy self in front of the t.v. with yet another beer.

He layed there untill he was sure his dad was passed out and then forced himself to get up. He knew that if his dad were to get up and see him lying there, that would call for another beating and right now he really couldn't handle that.

So James got up slowly, and painfully made his way up the stairs of their three story house. Once he made it to his room he went straight to the bathroom and striped off all his clothes to see what he was dealing with.

God, it hurt so bad he figured he must have at least one cracked rib.

When he finally got everything off and looked at the damage he realized his dad really did do a number on him.

James was literally black and blue, and being that he wasn't allowed to go to school or pretty much anywhere else( not that he really listened to him, well except for the school thing) his dad didn't really care about where he hit him. Which is why he gave him the "spectacular" black eye.

"God, I hope I can see out of this tomorrow." He said as he proded the area around his eye. "He's gonna kill me if I can't work tomorrow." James said with a groan.

Ironic huh, he's the one who gave him the black eye yet James was the one who'd get in trouble if it ended up effecting his dad making money.

See it was just the two of them. His mom left when he was 1 1/2 and left him with this psychotic ass of a father, at least that's what his dad told him. But if it weren't true then where was she? If he acted even half as bad as he did with me to her( which I'm sure he did) could he really blame her for getting the hell out of there? He just couldn't understand why she would leave him knowing what kind of a man his father was. And he didn't think he could ever forgive her for that.

Anyways, they were kinda well off, or his dad was as he liked to remind him of. He guessed that his family came from some old money, like he cared. Sometimes he really wondered why his dad didn't just give him up, or hell he could've even dropped him off somewhere if he didn't want him. With the amount of times he was told what a compete waste of space he was, and how he'd never amount to anything you would think that he wouldn't want him around.

He wished that were it. Instead his dad had him illegally working in a chop shop. It wasn't even that he couldn't get a real job. Hell his father owned a car dealership, but James knew that this was just something that he could hold over his son's head if he ever tryed to call the cops on him. It wasn't even like he could say no, he tried that and while his dad didn't like it he didn't do anything too major, at first. A couple of punches here and there. That was until he got tired of James telling him no. That was by far the worst beating he ever had. He still had the scar on his side from where he was thrown into the glass cabinet. Unfortunately this was also his dad's alcohol cabinet. Which only made him even more angry at the fact that James shattered all of his alcohol glasses and wasted all his liquor. But not once in his father's alcohol induced rage did he say anything about the piece of glass that was sticking through his son's side. It wasn't until after his fit was over that he even noticed the damage he did to him.

His father's personal doctor couldn't handle that one "in-house". When all was said and done his dad ended up with a 'you gotta learn how to control that rage of yours better, or at least not all in one go' from the doctor and James ended up with 16 stitches to the side, 3 broken ribs, a mild concussion, a fractured wrist, a whole lot of bruising and a 'I bet you'll listen to him next time he tell's you to do something' from his doctor.

The sadistic bastard, he could swear that the guy got off on the countless number of times he had to fix him up after one of his dad's "fits".

But he was right, since that day whenever his father told him to do something he did it.

He didn't have any other family that he knew of, or he would have hightailed it out of there a long time ago. On his dad's side everyone was either in prison or dead(no surprise there), and he didn't really know about his mom's side. His dad told him that he wasn't his only kid, that he had more sons out there, but Jake's didn't really know how he could find any of them. Plus he didn't think that they would even want to meet him. He was basically a criminal too. Hopefully if they ever got caught the cops would take into account the fact that he was an unwilling participant.

So here he was, stuck working for a man he loathed. Luckily his dad didn't want an idiot for a son, so he did have a private tutor, who was also on his payroll obviously. He wouldn't want anyone reporting him to the police for child abuse, and the rest of his many criminal activities.

Well, unfortunately for him James was pretty smart, and once he turned 18 he was getting the hell out of here. Only one and a half more years to go. He'd been saving most of his money, and once he got enough he was headed straight to California.

He finished fixing himself up in the bathroom after about 30 minutes, and after taking a couple asprins he slowly made his way to his bed. Luckily he hadn't bled anywhere, cause he didn't have the strength to make it back downstairs, let alone clean anything up.

So with a low groan he layed his battered body down on the bed and prayed that those pills did their jobs so he could at least sleep pain free. Until tomorrow that is.