A/N I should really warn you that there is some cursing in this chapter that is not appropriate for all ages! I'm just wondering, do you guys think I should move this story up to M because of language and the theme….
Edmund's POV
This house is the epitome of boring. If I see one more white object I think I'm going to go blind. The walls are white, the door is white, the floor is white, the small, squeaky bed pushed against the white wall is white, the tiny dresser is white, the closet it white, and the blasted open window is white. That's another thing that has already started annoying me for the one day we've been here, the stupid windows. As I discovered last night they don't shut...ever.
*2:00 A.M. last night*
I pulled the thin blanket more tightly around me as my teeth started to chatter. Who the hell knew it would be so damn cold in the middle of the summer? This was it, I couldn't take it anymore. I threw off the white sheets and stumbled towards the window. Victory would be mine! I clawed at the window with a maniacal look in my eyes. I hate the cold. After a few seconds of pushing the window down with all my might I stepped back to admire my work. It hadn't moved at all. One more try couldn't hurt. I went at it again for a few more minutes, still nothing. With a frustrated growl I took my left, brown leather, Sunday shoe that was tossed carelessly on the ground next to me, and chucked it as hard as I could at the window. The window was no match for my shoe for it shattered on impact and my shoe sailed somewhere into the lawn. Shit. Not my brightest idea. My mind had been clouded with sleep and now I was down one Sunday shoe and had a lot more cold air flooding in the room. Window- 1 Edmund- 0. I heard heavy footsteps approaching my room from down the hall, Aunt Alberta. I grabbed the white draperies and tossed them close. I took a running start and leaped on to the bed, throwing the covers over me. I shut my eyes as the door creaked open. I could picture Aunt Alberta surveying the room as she allowed light from the hallway to leak in. She sniffed; obviously unsatisfied she couldn't find a reason to make me go another day or two without a meal besides mutual dislike.
*Current Time*
I flung myself on the bed as it groaned, it was desperately pleading to be replaced but it was probably nailed in place just like the bloody windows. Staring at the ceiling, I traced the cracks with my eyes, making pictures with them. The first one I saw was a lion, then a sword and finally a ship. My boring, but peaceful antics were disrupted by the pig Eustace, holding my Sunday shoe. I rolled over to face the wall so I wouldn't have to see him. I was then reunited with my shoe in the most painful way as it hit my back with a thud.
"I made up a poem at 2 o'clock last night when you were stampeding around your room like an elephant. Alberta may have been fooled but I wasn't!" He began, "Anyways, here it goes
There once was a boy named Edmund
Who was boring and unimpassioned.
He plays games all day
And does not earn his stay.
I should think he is quite old-fashioned."
"First of all, my name doesn't rhyme with unimpassioned." Edmund replied, "I have a limerick for you,
There once was a boy named Eustace
Who was particularly useless.
He is vulgar and fat
Not to mention a twat
And sulks in his own aloofness."
"Aren't you a bright child?"
"Why thank you, I think I have a career ahead of me."
"I'm going to tell Alberta that you are using crude language that is not appropriate for my ears!"
"Oh go ahead, run crying to mummy, see how much I care!" I'm just full of horrible decisions today.
Moments later Aunt Alberta was in my room her right eye twitching viscously.
"How dare you call my Eustace such a filthy word, you –you scum! Not only that but my darling tells me you broke your window last night in attempt of escape, and then you threaten him if he tells anyone! We are going to get this straightened out right now!"
"I didn't do any of that I swear! Your beloved son is lying through his teeth!"
"Is that so?" She yanked back the curtains to revealing a large hole. I'm in for it now.
"Come here Edmund." She said with a fake sugary voice. "Feel it." She commanded. My hand shook as a gently fingered the broken glass. Suddenly she clutched my hand and pushed it through the hole, catching the glass on my wrist. I cried out in agony, unprepared for the pain. She continued to cut my arm until red was staining the window sill. Small pieces were lodged in my arm but they are sticky so I can't seem to pull them out.
"Did that feel like broken glass, darling?" She questioned. Taking a shake breathy I nodded. I can't lose, not to her; this would be like giving into the White Witch. So I straightened up and ignored my arm as best as I could and glared at her with all the might I could muster.
"It would seem we haven't properly broken you in yet, maybe you might take my husband a bit more seriously than me." She spun around and the clicking of her heels grew softer and softer. I yanked a piece of glass out of my arm and put on the window sill so I couldn't step on it. Tears sprung to my eyes but I just prayed Lucy had the common sense to stay in her room until this was over, hopefully I would have time to clean up before she would try to help me. Seeing me injured would only make her mad, meaning she would try something stupid and get hurt as well. My thoughts were interrupted once again, but this time by Uncle Harold.
"Listen, I had to stop watching my favorite TV program just to put you in your place so you better not make this harder than it has to be." He said gruffly.
He swung at me but I couldn't honestly stand there and let myself get hit. He tried to punch me again. I bolted out of the way, but not before he caught the back of my shirt. Despite his obesity he was extremely strong. He swung me around so I landed hard against the wall. Sliding to the floor I tried to scramble away. He picks me up again by the neck blocking my airways and began punching me in the stomach. A loud crack rang through the room as he broke a rib. This was followed by another and another until he flung me against the other wall. This time a scream erupted through my sore throat. It was too much. Why was I even fighting, I just wanted to let the darkness engulf me and never wake up.
"Are you ready to give up yet?"
I replied with a weak nod. I wouldn't give up, not yet, but he would kill me if I said no. I need to wait until everything has healed and then I will make things right. I have to protect Lucy too. Just like Peter would want. Oh Aslan, if Peter saw me now he would have a heart attack.
Uncle Harold gave me a wicked smirk. With one last kick to the stomach he left the room, slamming the door behind him. I leant over and spit out the blood that was sitting in my mouth. The last kick still had me doubled over as I dry heaved. I had nothing to throw up.
I glanced around the room. The walls that used to be white were now splattered with red here and there. The dresser was tossed on its side but the curtains managed to stay a pure white, flowing gracefully in the wind, mocking me. I have to get in bed. I just want to sleep. I could already feel bruises forming, there was no way Lucy would buy that I was fine, not that she would have if there wasn't blood everywhere. I started the long crawl to my bed. I used one arm to heave myself up, not caring that I was running the sheets. It doesn't matter; the room could use a little color. I was just about to shut my eyes when Lucy barged in. I vaguely recall Miraz saying something like, "This used to be a private chamber!"
"Edmund!" She whispered in a shocked horror. I tried to form words but my mouth isn't working so it came out as groans.
"What have you done? What have they done to you?" I tried to answer once more but everything went black.
A/N This was way more bloody than I imagined, I'm really starting to think this should go up to M. I have also come to another problem, a fork in the road I suppose. I am having an inner battle right now whether I should make them sneak a letter to Peter and have Peter take them away. It will of course be full of all that angsty goodness. The other choice is. They go to Narnia and you see how that changes the outcome of Voyage of the Dawn Treader. The last choice is I do them both, sort of like an extended alternate ending. Which should I pick?
Love,
Hain
