Another day came and went, the weeks seeming endless. Within these long weeks, Lucas returned to school, discovering he'd missed too much to graduate that year like he'd worked so hard to do.

He watched through pained eyes as his classmates (he was a senior at 16, though the rest of his classmates were all 17) walked across the stage, all dressed in their fine robes as they received their diplomas.

"You'll graduate next year," Sidney assured him, giving him a light pat on the back. Mrs. White quickly agreed, giving him a huge hug. He knew they meant well, but it didn't seem to ease his great hurt. Had Victor encouraged him, maybe things would have been different.

After the ceremony, he congratulated his classmates and left the school.

Stepping into Mrs. White's car, he pressed his tear-stained face against the window and watched as the school shrunk away. He knew he may never again return...

OooooooO

It was summer vacation for Lucas, who had recovered from his depression over not graduating with his classmates. He would have to work hard if he would graduate next year, he knew that. But he was determined to gain entrance into the classes of the toughest teachers; that way, he would be guaranteed success. Hence, he gathered all the work he could to complete as summer homework.

Walking up to Victor, he shyly handed him the chemistry paper and asked that he revise it for mistakes. Victor accepted, looking indifferent as always.

"Wrong. Wrong. Wrong, wrong. Wrong," Victor repeated over and over as he looked over Lucas' work.

Victor had been saying "wrong" on impulse, only to find his words caught in his throat as he laid eyes upon the final question. "…Correct."

Lucas glanced over his shoulder, nodding. He knew the last question would be correct for a fact.

"Arsenic, huh?" Victor murmured, reviewing the work. It was very thorough; flawless it was. Everything was spot on, down to the formulas and chemical makeup. The properties seemed altered from what he could remember, but everything else appeared correct. "Did you cheat?"

"No, Mr. Niguel, sir," Lucas stated, eyes flickering with pain. The reasons for his great knowledge lied deep inside, tracing back to those horrid visits with his father. He made sure he knew everything there was to know about arsenic, for that had been his father's sick torture device. The next time—if there was one—Lucas would be prepared. He wouldn't cower before his father as he had years before. He was book-smart and ready for anything his father could cook up. He wouldn't be denied his right to be treated as a human again.

"Earth to Lucas, I asked you a question!" Victor snapped.

"Pardon?"

"I said, are you an expert on arsenic?"

"I… guess you could say that."

"Interest of yours?"

Lucas didn't answer, only turning away as the painful memories flooded into him.

When Lucas failed to respond, Victor became impatient. He grabbed him by the arm and shook him, exposing the scar-enveloped flesh hidden beneath his left sleeve. He gasped, immediately recoiling. Lucas produced a deep-throated snarl, jerking away in a flash.

"Lucas…" Victor began, "let me see…"

"No!" the teen roared.

"Let me see, damnit!" he retorted, rising to his feet. Lucas tried to flee, failing before his legs received the message.

"Let go! Let go of me!" Lucas cried, struggling. Victor held onto his arm as tightly as he could, finding it difficult to keep a hold of.

Ignoring his pleas, he lifted the sleeve and feasted his eyes upon the scars. They were large and deep, some overlapping others. Victor looked up at him, eyes asking: "why?"

Lucas stared on back, tears filling his own hurt eyes. The once beautiful, golden-hazel shimmering eyes were now gray, bloodshot, and lifeless. They were now cruel; harsh; cold. Those gorgeous, stunning eyes no longer held that bright future, that desire; they only held pain and misery. They were pitiful, pleading eyes.

Tenderly—not averting his gaze—Victor lifted the other sleeve, revealing fresh scars. Investigating further, he discovered Lucas had cut up to the shoulders. It was an atrocious sight.

"How long?" he asked finally.

"A v-very long time…" Lucas confessed with a shudder.

"Why?"

Lucas wasn't sure how to answer. Was Victor ready to know? Was he even ready to share his grotesque memories? He mustered up all the courage within him and began.

"Father became an alcoholic after the war. He beat my mother, my siblings, and I. One night, he killed my siblings. Mother was driven into the arms of another man, and also into insanity. She beat me. Now I received Mother's beatings and Father's. Both of them were enraged…

"They split up, leaving me able to visit him in Arkansas only sometimes. Our family's secret was kept in the dark and remained unspoken of.

"At 13, I visited Father again. He wanted to play a game, so of course I agreed… But the game wasn't so fun… Because… He poured arsenic on me…" Lucas inhaled sharply.

"He had tortured me with the acid when I was 5, now repeating that torture so many years later. I've never been able to… understand why, but… That's the way it happened…" Lucas finished and exhaled deeply.

Victor let the words sink in, understanding at last. Lucas had hidden everything so well… Who could have imagined Lucas of all people to be the sufferer of child abuse?

"So that led to cutting…" Victor muttered, shaking his head. (True, the acid incident had much to do with his motivation to cut, but what led him to committing it was his mother's condition.)

"It… It felt so good… It got rid of the emotional pain; it made me happy and sick all at once… but then…" Lucas' eyes filled with tears once more. "It stopped feeling good… Now it… it hurts… But I'm addicted to cutting… I want to feel that intoxication, that sensation I get when I cut… But I don't want to cut if I can't feel that! I want to quit cutting, but I just can't stop! I can never stop now that Mother's dead!" Lucas finally gave in, bursting into tears. The emotions had been bottled up far too long. To spill them out here was a good place as any.

Involuntarily, Victor took the boy in his arms and allowed him to cry in his father-like embrace. Despite his attempts to release Lucas, his arms wouldn't budge. There was something inside that let him know he was doing the right thing.