Hello, and welcome to a sad story focused on Johnny's difficult life! I'm your host, Glittercat33, and I'm here to tell you this tragic tale. So, sit back and relax, grab some popcorn and soda, and enjoy the show!
I would firstly like to thank my reviewers, I had so many for something I did not expect to be so popular!
wolftattoo (guest)- Woah. You like totally understand me, and my plans. Just woah.
X (guest)- I completely understand- I made Big Daddy a little OOC, and he definitely overreacted, but I already have the story planned out, so I'm sorry about your request. But I'll make it a little less descriptive for you. :)
LuSilveira- Yeah, I feel bad, but #sorrynotsorry
Masked Revenge- I did, so do I, you'll see, read to find out! :)
Charly479- You seem excited! You won't be disappointed (I hope)
Paige the Hufflepuff- Glad you like it!
RimaPichi- Well, thank you! First person kinda just shows how a character feels, but 3rd person is my favorite to write. I'll put in more 3rd person for you! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Sing. I wish I owned something.
He looked at his reflection on the broken mirror, and for a moment he felt as if he had really shattered too.
Nobody's P.O.V.
The two gorillas leaped through the window, the bigger one carrying the other, smaller gorilla. It was a dark room, inhabited by none. It belonged to the bank now, nobody would buy it. The two gorillas descended to the floor, and the big one tied the other to a table. He pulled out a knife, and crept toward the one tied up. The younger gorilla had a huge gash in his leg, and it was bleeding. He looked like he was in immense pain.
Johnny's P.O.V.
He tied me up. My own father. He leaves, disappearing completely in the darkness before returning, holding something.
"You." Big Daddy said icily. "You sold my life to the bank."
"I-I only d-did it t-to bail you out of j-jail." I stutter.
"Why didn't you just work? You're worthless." He responds. "And stop stuttering! It's weak."
"Dad-"
"Don't call me that. You aren't good enough! You're not worthy of being my son!" He yells.
I just lay there, shocked. He didn't mean it, did he? He is my father. But that nagging voice in the back of my head told me otherwise. Maybe he did mean it. Maybe I really am worthless. Maybe I don't matter to him.
Nobody's P.O.V.
Big Daddy approached Johnny, circling the table, deciding where to strike first. He decided on his forehead, and slit open his son's head. It gushed blood, and Johnny was holding back tears. Whether they were tears from physical pain, or tears from emotional pain, nobody knew.
However, Johnny was somewhat used to the pain. His hair had always covered up the scars from the beating. This was the first time his father had used a knife on him, though. He knew he should tell someone, but if someone found out... Big Daddy would be sent back to jail. After all Johnny had gone through, the years of abuse, the painful words, it was amazing he would stick with the very man who tormented him the most.
He thought back to when he was singing. He remembered it like it was yesterday. His song, "I'm Still Standing", was chosen on purpose. He knew that it described his life perfectly. He stayed strong, still standing, fighting through the pain.
The knife jabbed him again, interrupting his thoughts. This time, it went straight into his leg! Johnny cried out, obviously in extreme pain. His injury from the car accident looked much worse, now with a knife sticking through it. He smashed a mirror on Johnny's head, and it shattered into a million pieces. Immediately after doing that, Big Daddy realized that Johnny was only trying to help.
Big Daddy grabbed the knife out of Johnny's leg, taking care not to scrape the tender flesh. He took a roll of toilet paper and threw it at him, gently, to not hurt him anymore. He was mortified at what he had done. He had abused Johnny for years, but it had always been beating. Never had Big Daddy ever used a knife on Johnny. He jumped through the window, and left, searching for what was best for him, and his son.
Johnny's P.O.V.
My father left me, with just a roll of toilet paper. 1 ply, too. Everybody knows that you need at least 3 ply! Everybody! It was thin and scratchy, but maybe there was just enough to wrap up my leg.
One of the strings used to tie me up had been cut, and I used this to my advantage. I was able to free myself, so I wrapped up the huge gash in my leg, now running from the top of my thigh to my calf. It was really big, and the toilet paper wasn't much help. I'll need medical help if I want to ever walk again.
I saw the mirror on the ground. I look at my reflection on the broken mirror, and for a moment I feel as if I had really shattered too.
I remembered the old phone that hung on the wall. It's on the whole other side of the room, and I don't know if I can make it.
I think it would be worth a try, so I roll off the table, avoiding my leg. I scoot across the floor, like a baby learning to crawl. Finally, I reach the phone. I grab it and attempt to dial Rosita's number. Ring. Ring. Ring. She finally picks up the phone.
"Yes? Who is this?" Rosita asks, exasperated.
"Rosita? Is that you?" I question, my voice dry and crumbly.
"Oh my gosh! Johnny?" She exclaims. "Are you ok?"
"Nooo!" I whine. "Please, help me."
"Where are you?" She wonders.
"At the old hideout, on 64th and East. Please, you have to hurry!" I explain.
"I'll be there in 2 minutes." She says, worried.
"Thanks Rosita." I croak.
"Anytime, but I need to get in the car, so goodbye, at least until I find you." She laughs nervously.
"Yeah. Bye." I say, but I don't want our conversation to end. Talking to her was comforting, especially in this state.
A few minutes later, I hear I loud crashing sound, and I look at the source of it. It's Rosita, climbing- no, falling- through the window.
"Johnny? Johnny, where are you?" She hollers.
"Rosita-"
"Oh my! Johnny, what happened to you? Why is there a cut in your forehead?" She slams me with questions.
"I was in a car accident. Yeah, didn't you hear about it?" I wonder. "It was on the news."
"You were in a car accident?!" She exclaims. "Why are you here instead of a hospital?"
"Well, I was at a hospital-"
"Why aren't you at the hospital now?" She questions.
"I escaped." I croak.
"I don't think 'escaped' is the right word. The hospital only wants to help you." She sighed. "Oh, and I know that gash in your forehead is from a knife. I've seen enough cuts to tell."
"Um..." I freeze.
"Care to explain?" She asks.
"Not right now. But what should we do about my leg?" I wonder.
"Your leg?" She whispers. "What's wrong with your leg?"
Of course. She hasn't seen it yet, the toilet paper was holding up strong. The only hint would be the dots of crimson blood on the towels.
"That's kinda the reason why I was in the hospital in the first place..." I trail off, hoping she'd take the hint. "But I couldn't afford it, so I just left."
"Look, Johnny, that will just make it worse. I'll pay your bills, but only if you agree to do something for me." She offers.
"Name your price." I test.
"I need you to stay in that hospital until you are fully recovered. No walking, no leaving the room, no 'escaping'. Just stay put." She states.
Seems easy enough. Let's just hope the hospital can actually do something to help me.
Wow, that was long! I hope you enjoyed it, because soon I'll post another chapter! Yay! Please review, favorite/follow, and comment. Please! I love hearing your reviews, and I'll respond to a couple of them, if you want. Have a great day!
Meow