i'm being really nasty to kai in my stories aren't i? lol this is a one-shot by the way. for those who are waiting for me to update my stories i've had a lot going on so bare with me i wrote this because its red nose day a big charity event in britain and it helps thousands of people with different problems, domestic abuse, children living an alcoholic parent people in africa that sort of thing. i'm going to donate £20 they said even just a fiver can save a child life so i'm saving four! yay!
summary-kai's fears come to life when voltaire is drunk. dark themes, abuse, writing for red nose day
Cry for help
He's been drinking again. I'm terrified already and I haven't even spoken to him yet. My grandfather puts his glass down and looks at me. The cold emotionless look in his eyes scared me. I don't know if it's the cold basement that's making me shiver, or his face. I can already feel tears prickling the back of my eyes.
Pick up the phone.
His glare seemed to get darker and fiercer the longer he stared at me. My breathing quickened. I could feel it coming, any second now. My throat is dry, my stomach is churning, the fear I feel is stronger than it ever has been in my entire life. Fourteen years, it's never gotten any easier. My tears have escaped, this always made him angrier, weakness was something Hiwatari's must never show. But how can I not show it? When I'm about to beaten by a strong adult, my own family. How can not show weakness, when nobody can save me? When nobody loves me…
Pick up the phone.
Before I could even blind my grandfather brought his whisky bottle down on my shoulder. Glass tore my skin open, the alcohol burned my new and old wounds. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from screaming, but I knew I couldn't stop myself much longer. He grabbed hair and pulled me up, ripping some hair their roots. His fist flew into my stomach with such force it could have burst my intestines. I would have screamed, if my breathe hadn't been knocked out of me. He pushed me down onto my back and leaned over me. I closed my eyes.
'Open your eyes!' He spat at me.
Pick up the phone.
'OPEN THEM!'
I forced my eyes open to look at him. I knew what was coming, he only did this when he was hammered. He pulled down my boxers, scratching me with his rings. While I lay here catching my breathe trying hard not beg him to stop, he pulled down his own trouser and underwear. There was nothing I could do. He forced his tongue into my mouth, I could feel his saliva drip down into my throat. He forced himself into me, the pain was incredible. My hands began to bleed as I squeezed my fingernails deeper into my palms with some bleak hope that it would help. Please, just let me die.
He thrust himself in and out, his tongue never leaving mine. His hot whisky breathe blew over my face. All I wanted to do was die. I just wanted be free. I didn't know how much longer I could go on anyway, I could hardly breathe. Unconsciousness started to on, I couldn't be more grateful. As though he read my mind, he took his revolting slimy tongue out, allowing air into my lungs, much needed by my body, but desperately rejected by my mind. I wish I could just hold my breathe until my heart stopped, sadly I cant. Who could?
Pick up the phone
I tried to take my mind of it. I couldn't look away from him, he just forced me look at him again. Thinking about my friends isn't easy when I'm in so much pain. I counted. that's all I could do. I counted the breathes he took, wishing so dearly that he would just stop breathing so I can smile at his grave. The force of his body constantly pushed me up and down on the hard concrete, rubbing my skin red raw. After a few hours-I assume-he pulled out. He fell back onto his backside as he tried to pull his trousers back up, I would have laughed if it was Spencer or Bryan, minus the rape and beating part of course.
My grandfather staggered over to the wine rack and pulled out a very out of place bottle of vodka. Ignoring my stomach ache I stood up, shaking, and pulled my pants back up. My blood would stain them but that was by far the last thing I was worried about. I watched him take a huge swig of the vodka, how could he drink such a strong drink so easily like that? He looked at me, for the second time this night, he threw his bottle at me. Thankfully he missed. Storming over towards me like an angry bull, I could only back away into the wall with my arms pulled up to my face to protect myself, and scream
Nothing happened.
I looked up at him, why hadn't he hit me? As soon as I knew why, I was shitting myself. In his hand, was his belt. This was normal, but I shitting it because he was drunk and when he was drunk…
Pick up the phone
He came at quickly, my legs refused to move and he brought the belt down on my quivering body. He pushed me down again and threw the belt across my stomach. My screams erupted from my lungs, never to be heard by anyone else but us. Again, and again my skin was ripped open with a switch thwack! I begged him to stop. And he did. He dropped his belt and took in deep breathes. The new vodka bottle in his hand wasn't in this basement for drinking. As I predicted, he poured the alcohol onto my wounds. They burned even more than before. I was on fire. I kicked my legs, as if it would help.
'GET UP!'
But I couldn't, the pain was unbearable. I was in far too much pain to stand up. My grandfather tried to grab my arm, he missed, three times, before he could finally pull me half way up. He dropped me. He took another few swigs of drink and sat on me. His weight crushed my legs but I couldn't help wonder why he sat on me in the first place. I soon found out. He put his legs at either side of my legs, unzipped his trouser and forced his salty, vinegary repulsive dick in my mouth. I choked and gagged at the taste. Next I know, I heard some strange gurgling noises, and he threw up, all over my back. The warm mixture of half digested food and liquid soaked right onto my skin and slivered down into my trousers. I closed my eyes tightly. My grandfather removed himself from. He was finished with me. He dragged himself upstairs, leaving me in a stinking mess on the floor.
Pick up the phone.
I cried for ages. I couldn't stop. I eventually dragged myself upstairs, onto the ground floor, and made my way into the kitchen. I sat on the floor and looked at myself. I was still bleeding and burning. I pulled myself up to the kitchen counter and pulled the wireless phone back down with me. The cold tiles didn't bother me too much. All I wanted to do was die. I dialled a number I should have dialled a long time ago. I waited, part of me didn't want an answer so I could go hang myself, the other half wanted to hear a friends voice.
'Hello?'
I didn't reply.
'Hello?'
I could feel a big bubble of tears coming on.
'Hello? Anyone going to answer me?…I'm hanging up now.'
'Tala?' My voice was so weak, I was afraid he wouldn't hear me.
'Kai? Are you ok? You sound like you've been crying.' He waited for a few seconds for me to answer.
'Please hep me.'
there you have it! i rushed the ending a bit it's half 2 in the morning lol please review