Logan's legs felt wobbly. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. He was told to stay in his room for the rest of the night. His parents were having friends over. No one wanted him around to screw everything up.
He just had to go so bad-
It had been more than a few hours since he was last allowed out. He'd used the bathroom, mindful not to drink too much since he knew what was coming. But it didn't matter now. His bladder was full, threatening to release at any given moment. He'd tried to take deep breaths, the thought of trying to fall asleep briefly crossing his mind. He thought better of it; he'd been on the receiving end of his dad's belt the last time he'd unintentionally wet the bed, plus his poor attempt at hiding the evidence. It'd hurt to sit down for a day or two after that.
"What do you think you're doing!" His Dad bellowed from behind him.
Logan froze, his throat drying out. "I...I-" He was yanked by his hair. The boy whimpered in pain, eyes scrunching shut as he was turned around to face his father.
"Did I say you could come out?"
"No," Logan whispered.
"Did I tell you we were finished?"
"No..."
"Then why are you out here?" Logan yelped in surprise when he was thrown onto the floor. His head smacked it first, causing pain to radiate throughout his skull. A wave of dizziness overcame him; his dad stood over him, but his vision was too blurry to see him properly.
"I...I had to pee.." Through his pain, he felt horror as well as the familiar sensation of urine soaking through his shorts.
He'd wet himself.
And on the floor, no less.
The color drained from his face. Logan's mouth opened several times, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I'm sorry," he squeaked, unaware that he was trembling. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to!"
His dad's face was inches away from his own. "You're lucky we got people over, boy."
"Yes...I...I know, sir."
"Fact, I think you should go apologize to them," Dad grabbed him again, pulling him all the way up. "Your mom and me can't even have one night to ourselves without you stickin' your nose in it!"
It was much more than the occasional one night, but Logan knew better than to say anything. He'd learned very quickly not to contradict his parents. Not if he wanted to avoid the inevitable punishment that would come.
"Please don't make me go out there," Logan pleaded. He didn't like their friends. They made him uncomfortable. Especially Mom's friend, Shelley. The way she looked at him made his stomach clench and his skin crawl. "Please!" He tried in desperation to pull away from his dad as he was dragged out to the living room where everyone else was.
The combination of beer and cigarette smoke was overwhelming. He held his breath for as long as he could to avoid getting a headache. His face went pink when all eyes fell on him.
"Do something about your son!" Dad threw him forward, causing him to fall on the floor. He staggered to his feet
Mom was playing cards with Shelley, a cigarette in the corner of her mouth. She let out a puff, the smoke floating through the air, burning the inside of Logan's nose. "What do you want me to do, Harris? What would make you happy?"
Neither cared if they were in front of friends. Nor did Logan think their 'friends' cared much either. They were drunk and high and ready for a good show. Not to mention, they often argued anyway.
"Don't start it, Diana. I'm in no mood for it," Dad snarled.
"When are you in the mood, huh?" She scoffed.
Logan jumped when a beer bottle came crashing to the floor, the glass smashing into smithereens.
"Don't talk to me like that in my house!"
"Oh, now it's your house?" Mom let out a humorless laugh. She got to her feet, her arms waving around for emphasis. "It wasn't yours last month when you nagged at me to get a job!"
"Well, maybe if you did more than stuff your mouth and watch those soaps, I wouldn't have to nag now would I?" Dad snapped.
"Oh, that's just rich coming from you, Harris!" Mom screamed. "Just rich!"
Logan flinched. He didn't like it when they argued. Each one seemed to be worse than the last. The intensity would skyrocket. Screams turned into roars. Things were thrown until it looked like a whirlwind had come through the tiny house. He just wanted to be back in his room.
He tried making a break for it but someone grabbed him by the arm.
"Hey, hold up," One of his dad's friends, Danny, said slyly. "Where you going, little dude?"
Logan winced under the painful grip. "Just...just to my room."
"Why not be out with us? Come on, you like Uncle Danny, right?"
He was using that voce. That tone that heavily suggested he better agree.
"Yeah," Logan swallowed as the background noise of his parents arguing reached a new octave.
"Then have a seat," Danny gestured. "Play a round with us."
"What happened there?" Shelley was reaching over, her hand hovering the spot where he'd wet himself. Logan instinctively stiffened, unable to say something or even move. He wanted to pull away, to shout at her but he couldn't.
He could not do anything while the rest of the world seemed to be muffled and the sound of his own heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Did you wet yourself sweetie?" Shelley purred.
One of Dad's other friends snickered obnoxiously.
Logan's cheeks reddened. "I..I didn't mean to-"
"Did you wet the bed again?" Shelley's voice held an oversaturated amount of sympathy.
"I-"
Danny drunkenly pointed to the belt he was wearing. "Know what we used to do to bed wetters? Dad had a way of takin' care of that. Cured you real fast."
"I didn't-" Logan's voice went a tad louder than it normally would have. He was embarrassed about their implication that he'd wet the bed. Unfortunately, Danny didn't take that well.
"Hey!" Danny grasped a fistful of the front of his shirt, "don't you talk to me like that you little twerp!"
One of Dad's other friends waved his half empty beer can around drunkenly. "Fight, fight!" He chanted just as Logan was pushed backwards.
"Danny, you're such a neanderthal," Shelley rolled her eyes.
"Don't make teach you a lesson about respecting your elders!" Danny hollered, pointing a finger down at him.
Logan sat up, trying to crawl backwards to get away. He didn't see where he was going, which caused him to bump into his dad's leg.
"Harris, do something about that kid of yours!" Danny snapped.
A cry of pain came from Logan; for the second time that evening, he was taken by his hair, marched down the hallway all the way to his bedroom where he was thrown inside. He clumsily got to his feet, exhaling nervously when his dad's eyes trailed up to the ceiling then back down to meet Logan's.
His ceiling light was on.
"How many times do I have to tell you to turn that thing off?" Dad roared.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I forgot!"
"You forgot?" Dad said, dangerously calm all of the sudden. "That's it? You just...forgot?"
Logan nodded mutely.
"Then let me help you so you won't forget anymore," Dad stalked out of the room.
Logan stood in the middle of his room, his heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm. That is, until his father came back in sight, holding onto a hammer in his right hand.
"Dad, what are you-Dad!"
Logan ducked, covering his head as shards of glass shattered and went everywhere. In his drunken rage, his dad had smashed the lightbulbs, rendering the room into darkness.
"Lights out," Dad cackled.
If he paid closer attention, he would have seen how Logan trembled from fright.
"Do you know how much money I have to pay every month?" Dad was getting angry again. His voice was rising. The hammer was thrown at the wall, causing a deep dent. "I pay the mortgage, I pay for food, I pay for these lights! Why don't I just make a fire and throw money in it? That's where it's all going anyway!" His arms shot up in the air, conveying how frustrated he was. "And you can't do one simple thing, can ya? I tell you over and over not to leave the light and it's still on! What's it gonna take to get you to listen?"
"I'm sorry," Logan's voice was barely above a whisper. He kept repeating it, knowing it wouldn't do anything else to lessen things. Anything he said would set his father off and if he said nothing, that would set him off too.
Panic set in like icy water when he realized his dad was sliding his belt off.
"No, no! Please-"
"Shut up!"
From the living room, no doubt his mom and his parents' friends had heard his agonized screams.
But they ignored it.
/
The silvery moonlight came flooding into his room. Logan laid on his bed on his stomach so as to not further irritate his red and blistering backside. His dad had taken it further than usual tonight. It might have been because he had a few more drinks than usual or maybe it was the little baggy of crushed pills that was handed to him by Danny or the fact that his parents were given a notice that their electricity would be turned off soon due to it not being paid when it should have been. Whatever it was, whatever caused him to snap, he took it out on Logan.
He'd lost count of how many times that belt struck him. His screams had gotten so loud at one point his voice went hoarse.
With his face pressed into his pillow, Logan cried.
He wasn't much of a crier-he couldn't be. His parents would threaten to give him something to cry about if he did. But he just couldn't hold it in this time.
Turning on his side, facing the window with teary, bright red eyes, he caught sight of a star that was shining brightly amid the dark sky.
As childish as it was, he made a wish.
"I wish I could just leave," he whispered, sniffling. "Please. Anywhere. Anywhere but here."
He remembered reading a book once after finding it in the garage somewhere. He was younger and it was a fairytale with a happy ending. He'd liked that book, even as he grew older and out of the age where someone would typically read it. It was the one thing that made him happy.
He liked that book.
And then his dad burned it in front of him.
As a kid, he was optimistic-foolishly naive, he would say now-that one day he, too, would get his happy ending.
Now he knew better.
He didn't hope anymore.
Because life wasn't a fairytale where justice prevailed and the bad guys went away.
And people like him didn't get happy endings.