Chapter 10
Sora blinked up at a silver glinting object, trying to comprehend what it was. He thought for a moment on what to answer. He couldn't say the wrong thing, his mother was angry.
Uh oh…This wasn't a normal type of angry. The look in her eyes warned him to retreat into survival mode. This was going to be a long day.
"A…a…a spatula…" his voice came out as a small, whimpering squeak.
Oh no, that was the wrong thing to say. Wrong. His mother's eyes enflamed and she lunged forward.
The brunette flinched, barely able to go against his instincts to keep himself from jumping backwards.
His body was jerked to the side and the sickening 'crack' of a metal of some sort meeting Sora's cheek echoed through his kitchen.
He felt the familiar sting of tears as they rushed to his eyes and his skin swelled.
"Right." His mother said coldly, digging her nails into his arm and pulling him to their counter. She slammed his hands onto the marble, offering her access to the tender flesh. "Can you tell me what's wrong with this spatula, Sora honey?"
He whimpered before shaking his head.
She smirked, holding the metal utensil before his face. He recognized the faint brown mark of burned food that probably hadn't gotten a thorough enough cleaning in the dishwasher.
Riku smiled softly, stepping back to examine his work.
He wanted to go see Sora so badly, but even the thought of having to face him made his heart speed up.
How could he possibly look at him the same ever again?
Riku held his chest. It hurt. And his stomach. He felt sick.
Sora must hate him. Riku could understand that, completely, one hundred percent. Hell, he would hate him too if he were Sora. He had no right at all to violate the boy's personal space.
Actually, Riku was praying that Sora would hate him… He wanted him to so bad. But, he knew that the kid didn't have it in him.
Sighing, Riku knew he had to go see Sora and at least try to straighten things out even a little.
He would just have to let his heart pound and his stomach turn and his head spin. It was worth their friendship…
"Oh you can't, can you?" Again, the revolting sound of metal against Sora's precious, creamy skin rang through the air except more than once now. Several times, actually. Once on his previously unharmed cheek, and four times on each of his outstretched hands. Each crack delivered with a bruising force.
This time Sora couldn't hold back his yelps of displeasure. His eyes burned with the familiar sting of tears, "Ma…mom…" He whimpered.
"KEEP YOUR LAZY ASS MOUTH SHUT!" She cried, as this time, the spatula fell over his lips, crushing them with its blindingly painful force. He squealed a mixture that was most likely supposed to be a cross of either the word "Mom" or "Ow". He subconsciously shielded his face.
"CAN YOU NOT UNDRESTAND WHAT I'M SAYING?!" She proceeded to repeatedly bring the utensil down over various places on Sora's arms, mostly his hands, until the skin was raw and raised with welts.
He couldn't help but let out a sob as tears spilled over his burning, swollen face. He screeched with each and every throbbing smack.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" A sickening grin spread across her features, adding an especially twisted glimmer to them.
"Now…" She whispered, lowering her lips to his ear so that her breath came out in grotesque, hot spouts across his neck.
Sora obeyed her previous command, lowering his head and digging his teeth into his swollen, abused lip. He whimpered as his mother dragged the cool, stinging metal over his cheek, before grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her.
"Do you have any idea how hard I work, day in and day out to make money so that your lazy, useless ass can stay here, under my roof?!"
He sniffled. Pressing his lips together, he slowly nodded.
She chuckled in a scoffing manner as another crack could be heard and Sora was blinded for only a splinter of a second by pain.
"Obviously NOT!" She screamed as he cowered back to his position at the counter. If he obeyed, maybe the pain would be over sooner and he could see Riku…
No…. Riku couldn't see him like this. He had to force back tears at the thought of it. He didn't know why, but it hurt to think about seeing Riku again. So he didn't. All together he just tried to stop thinking.
Despite his efforts, he couldn't help but pray. Pray for himself.
'Riku…please. Please come save me, Riku. Like you used to always do. Come save me like you used to save me: without even knowing it. Let me see you. That's saving me enough.'
But that wasn't the truth. Sora didn't want any of that, right? He didn't want to see Riku.
He hung his head, squeezing his eyes as tight as possible. Maybe that would dull some of the pain.
'I want to see you.'
He tried with all his might to keep from flinching each time the metal came in contact with his raw, stinging hands.
"If your brother were here, he would work harder than you do. He would work for his occupancy in this world; unlike you." She scarcely hesitated to continue, "You live day after day knowing that it's your fault they're dead, and yet, you still don't care. You're useless and selfish. Did you know that every night I wish that it would've been you who was there…there in the driver's seat. Then your father still would be here…with me!"
She continued to alternate between his hands and arms as Sora began to hum. Good. Now he couldn't hear her as well. It wasn't fair, though. No matter how hard he wished himself away, he remained there.
'I can't take it. Only you would understand. Because nobody else will.'
He was bleeding now, or at least that's what he thought. But he was afraid to look. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.
Suddenly, she stopped, and as if on cue, his reluctant lids pried themselves open. Whether he wanted them to or not, they did.
"Did that hurt?" His mother whispered.
Sora was unsure of what to reply as his eyes fell down to the horror of his bloodied, bruising hands and forearms.
He lowered his head further, his attempts of looking at his mother futile, while praying that his spikes could veil his pained expression.
'Only you.'
What should he say?
Sora found his mind, as always, racing, playing out consequences of the wrong words, or maybe even the right ones…if such a thing existed.
"Well?"
Slowly, he nodded. Just the slightest raise and lower of his head.
"What? I don't understand. Use your words."
He remembered that phrase from when he was a child and he would whine when he wanted something, or make some sort of noise to indicate. Except this time when she said it, of course, her voice was not sweet, nor was it full of encouragement. It was cruel and mocking. The voice of someone who knows that they have won.
Regretting every move and every vibration of his vocal chords that this word would bring him, Sora answered. "Y…yes." His voice was a small, terrified croak from the back of his dried throat.
A grin swept across his mother's lips, overpowering her entire face. Sora could feel her eyes burning through him, staring him down. Watching every rise and fall of his unsure chest as ragged, choked breaths tore through him at an unruly rate.
"Oh really?"
After a long moment of trying to comprehend what she was trying to get at, he nodded again.
He heard the cabinet open with neglect of being closed, but, curious as he was, still could not look at her.
"Then this should toughen you up a bit." Her cold voice stated.
Before Sora had the time to protest, excruciating pain had filled his arms and shot his body out of its numb state.
His mouth fell open into a silent scream as the white mineral continued to invade his wounds and set his skin aflame. Thousands of ants seemed to crawl inside of him; biting anywhere they could set foot. And oh boy, one hell of a bite that was.
Waves of pain exploded through him, throughout his arms, and then they would die away, fizzling into nothing but a dull, half numbed, sting. Before returning, blasting him with a whole new sheet of overwhelming discomfort.
He cried out, his eyes remaining closed. The scream quickly tore through his throat, freeing it of the mucusy flesh. His body throbbed, his temples pounded. All the while, tears cascaded down his cheeks at an unbearable rate.
He stood, lingering around Sora's fence for a minute or two, before finally doing the usual routine. He climbed the wooden wall, pulling himself onto the first story roof and teetering his way down it until he was below Sora's window sill.
He clutched onto the decorative bricks; the kind that protruded from your house. He had never really seen the point to them until now. I mean, they practically screamed, "Teenage boys, I'm your gateway to climbing into this unsuspecting girl's (or in Riku's case, boys) room and banging them!"
He fit his foot into each one; climbing higher and higher with each step, until the pane was within reach and he could grab onto it and safely shimmy inside.
Once his feet were rooted to the blue, plush carpet of Sora's floor, Riku noticed several unusual things upon inspecting the room.
One being that Sora's bed was unmade. This was strange because Sora always made his bed when he got up, for as long as Riku had known him. He was just a neat person. Second being that, oddly enough, Sora didn't seem to be anywhere upstairs. Which, it wasn't like it was a bad thing that he spent time downstairs; it's just that for what seemed to be the last two years, he appeared to take refuge mostly in his own quarters.
But, it was two in the afternoon…. He could be downstairs, eating lunch. That was likely.
The next thing that Riku was most definitely the strangest thing yet: As he stood, frozen in the window way, his blood ran cold through his veins. A scream that could possibly defy the abilities of human vocal chords pierced into him, startling him to the point to which he almost cried out.
But despite his urge to run downstairs to see what in God's name could possibly cause someone to scream like that, a terrible realization washed over him and he found himself unable to move when another scream etched its way into his ear drums.
He knew exactly who that shriek belonged to.
Sora coughed, gurgling on the mixture of mucus, tears, and saliva that had conglomerated in the back of his throat, which had grown raw from screaming.
He gave into exhaustion, falling to his knees, causing the piles of blood-clotted salt to flitter from his hand, spilling onto the marble around them.
He clutched onto the counter's edge, pressing his cheek to the cool cabinet beneath, the feeling was comforting against his swollen cheek.
His mother frowned, grabbing him by his wrist, causing the layer of salt that was stuck to him and soggy from blood, to grind further into him.
"GAAHHHHH!" He cried, as his mother sunk her nails into the revolting concoction of blood, salt and open wounds.
"Now. Tell me if that hurt."
He nodded, biting his lower lip. There was little hesitation to his movements. All he was focused on was getting away. Away from here. Anywhere. To Riku's. He could go to Riku's.
No…. Nobody knew of his and his mother's secret. He could go nowhere until somebody knew…knew about all of this. But as long as he kept these barriers held up around him, nobody could know. I mean, he was still alive, so who needed to know what went on inside of his house?
No one.
In a sense, Sora found it to come slightly as a relief. His mother punished him thoroughly enough, therefore, he felt no guilt for what he had caused. He didn't need to feel guilty, because once he was punished; he knew that he would be forgiven.
But, something deep inside of him flickered like an everlasting flame, and no matter how many times he doused it, it would not die. That something was a voice, a sort of soft, challenging voice that simply asked, "How much longer? How much longer can you withstand this? How much longer can you uphold?"
"Here, let me rinse that out." Sora looked up quickly. He hadn't even noticed his mother turn on the kitchen sink and run the water until steam rose from the spout.
He paused for a moment, quite possibly a moment too long, trying to comprehend what his mother was going to do with that steaming water.
His musings were soon answered by a red hot, blindingly horrific pain as scalding water seemed to melt his skin away.
"GAAAAAHHHH! MOOOOMMM!" He wailed, his exhausted, over used throat going back to work, vibrating so fiercely that flecks of mucus tore into his mouth. It hurt, the screaming did. As well as the brutally torturous methods being played out upon his limbs.
His chest hurt, his head hurt, his torn, betrayed heart hurt, he hurt. The world hurt. Everything hurt. And for a moment, just one moment, Sora wished- prayed for his pointless existence to be wiped from this hell, forgotten forever.
His mother scowled before spurting the angrily hot water into his face before turning to the sink and twisting it off.
The brunette stood there, panting, hands still glued to the counter like n obedient dog; face contorted into a look of sickly pain.
After another moment, his mother spoke again, "Get out. Out of my sight. Go. You ungrateful waste of time."
He didn't want to go, though. That was the only problem, He wanted to stay there. He wanted to stay right there. And die.
But, as they say, old habits die hard, and, being the trained animal that he was, Sora hobbled to the foot of the stairs. At least in his room he would be safe.
I wanted to keep going but I had to stop! T-T I'll update soon! I promise! But school starts tomorrow! -sob- I don't know...I'll try to post this weekend...Well... We usually don't have homework the first week of school so I guess I'll have time...I can't believe it...I'm going into eighth grade...I'm gonna be at the top ..