I don't own it. Sorry.
Chad glanced at the clock as he got into the house. It had just slid to six o'clock. It hadn't seemed that late. He guessed that practice had gone over.
His father should be coming home soon. He got out of work at 5:30 and he worked twenty minutes away. If he were a normal dad, he would have picked up some dinner for the two of them, seeing that their fridge and cabinets were completely empty except for a few stray beers.
His father wasn't normal. Though he got out of work at 5:30, it wasn't unusual for him to stumble into the house at one in the morning either singing at the top of his voice of yelling curses that Chad had never heard before. Chad preferred the singing.
If he was a normal father, he might care that this was the sixth night in a row that there was no dinner. Chad had stopped re-filling the cabinets himself about seventh grade, because anything he put in there would be gone by morning and it was eating up all his allowance. So Chad ate at his friend's houses, or stopped and got himself a burger, or saved something from lunch.
Chad took out his homework, brushing away the green bottle on the table and laying down his Geometry book. He concentrated on complementary angles for as long as he could with his growling stomach before putting the textbook away and taking out the worn copy of A Separate Peace that he was reading for English.
Chad crashed on the couch, opening up the book to the spot he had left off, just after Phineas got back to Devon. He loved the book, as he liked most well-written novels. It made sense. It had a message that had a point. He could get into the characters heads and see what they were thinking.
He read late into the night, not noticing the passage of time as he slipped deeper and deeper into the story. H couldn't exactly remember where the story ended and the dream began, and Chad would certainly have not known the difference had it not been for the loud bang that startled him out of his sleep.
He looked up through bleary eyes and saw his father, a two-day beard growing on his long, pointed face and eyes big and dark making him look half-menacing, half-delirious. He was shouting tonight.
Chad immediately regretted his decision of sleeping on the couch instead of in his bed. It made him a much larger target. Usually, he would lie awake with a pillow over his head, hoping that he dad would forget he had a son. Now he definitely remembered Chad.
"You stupid ―" was all Chad heard as he stood petrified, frozen to the ground. He dared not move or talk or even avert his eyes from the huge, bear-like mass that stood in front of him. Maybe tonight was only yelling.
The first punch came after a series of very loud, slurred sentences about his mother, her parents, and all his ancestors up to Adam and Eve. Chad didn't' let out a whimper, tried not to move as the blows rained down on him again and again. He only put up his hand to protect his nose, which had already been broken twice by a blow from this man.
The beating didn't last long. It never really did. After a night at the bar, his father would be too tired to even stay on his feet very long. From his position on the floor, Chad saw his dad stumble up the steps, still half-yelling jumbled words at no-one.
He stayed on the floor a long time, shaking. Slowly, he moved his arm, wincing in pain as he heard a crack of the two joints separating. Next came his legs and neck. Nothing seemed broken, though he had a long gash on his arm from his fathers ring and multiple bruises and welts.
Slowly, Chad made his way up the stairs, grabbing the largest band-aid from the medicine cabinet on the way to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, laying the band-aid over the cut, which was leaking large, red blood drops. He was still shaking ten minutes later, when he finally laid down, trying to make no noise.
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