Woot! Another chapter! :D sorry it took so long, I've been distracted lately ^_^" but I promise the next one should be up in a day or two! I have it completely planned out :3
Troublmaker: Thank you so much! :D
jazminewriter: eh-heh-heh...things're gonna get dark again for him...(don't hurt me!)
Dark Moonlight24: Thanks for reviewing! :D *hugs*
Guest: O.O...please don't haunt mee! XD
munchymaxter: The huge impact is coming next chapter :)
Hi-DefGirl0615: Thank youuu~!
WARNING: SEVERE abuse coming up, including: burning, verbal harassment and mean notes :( (I'm sorry! It has to be done! Dx)
Glitch clenched his fists, nails digging into his skin. He bit his lip so hard it bled, trying hard to ignore the stares and whispers of the people around him. He stared down at the crude drawing on his desk in between his arms.
The drawing was of a stick figure representing Glitch hanging from a rope with X's for eyes and was crying blue streams of tears. Knives were sticking out of his body, crimson blood squirting out. In big block letters at the top was written: 'I HOPE YOU DIE.'
Most of the watchers started snickering, knowing what was written, while others sent him pitying looks. The ones who had thrown it at him high-fived, and the teacher at the front of the room was too engrossed in his book to care.
Swallowing thickly, Glitch calmly picked up the piece of paper and stood up from his seat. All eyes were glued on him as he walked to the trashcan next to the teacher's desk—he looked around his book and glared at Glitch—and walked back to his seat. While he had been gone two more notes were neatly folded on his binder.
Glitch didn't bother looking at these notes. He simply set them in the corner and went back to doing his math. Someone had ripped out the page that had his work on it, so he had to start at the beginning of the assignment. And I was almost done, too.
RIIIIIIING!
The last bell of the day echoed through the school, making all of the students hop out of their seats and rush to their lockers. Glitch was one of the few who were reluctant to get out of school, knowing it would result in daily after-school beatings, painful dance practices and an empty house.
Head bowed, Glitch wandered through the busy hallways to his locker. As usual, the actual locker was completely hidden underneath the notes that were taped and written on it.
Glitch huffed tiredly, leaning his head against the cool metal of one of the lockers next to him. He was too tired to deal with having to scrub his locker down right now. He hated to make the janitors' jobs harder than they already were, but he couldn't bring himself to have to read all of the hatred from them.
He awkwardly opened his locker, grabbing only what was necessary. Stuffing it into bag, he zipped it up and closed the paper-covered door. He walked with his head low out of the building with the last few stragglers left in the building.
He stopped outside of the door, scanning the nearly empty school grounds. He didn't see anyone that would try to jump him, but he kept his guard up, flicking his hood over his head. They had a habit of jumping up randomly right when he thought he was safe.
Which is exactly what happened.
He was halfway home, daydreaming. It was the way he always walked, which wasn't the smartest, thinking back on it. That was probably how they knew that he would be there.
Three boys popped up practically out of nowhere, one of them delivering a swift punch into his stomach. Glitch was unable to move at the blinding pain that his bruised ribs caused him at the rough punch. Tears of pain blurred his vision as they forced him behind the building he had been walking past.
"Thought we'd let you have the day off?" they jeered. "You're such a fucking retard."
Glitch bit his lip as they shoved his head into the concrete ground. The skin on his forehead was scratched, blood staining the ground red under him. His sleeves were rolled up, much to his confusion. They held his arms straight out, his struggling going was at least half of their sizes.
He thought to himself blankly, What are they…
Glitch's unspoken question was answered when he heard a click and a portion of his arm started to get hotter. He howled in pain as his tormentor with the lighter held the flame against his bare arm, laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
At random intervals the lighter would be moved to a different section of his arm. Even after the skin on both of his arms was covered in multiple burns that made his skin look polka-dotted, they didn't stop. Glitch cried out hoarsely, the tears he had been so desperately trying to hold back finally falling. A hand was slapped over his mouth to shut him up.
"Aw, look, guys," the owner of the hand simpered, jerking Glitch's head up by his hair so they could see. "I think we were a little to hard on him!" They crowed with laughter as his head was dropped back on the ground.
Glitch lay limply on the ground, jolting helplessly with every new burn that was forced on him. He stared unseeing at something in the distance, the tears flowing nonstop and mixing in with the blood from his scraped forehead. His breath came out in short puffs that hurt his ribs.
"Dammit," the one with the lighter snarled after awhile, throwing the small plastic rectangle against the sidewalk distastefully. "It's outta gas."
The other two growled in annoyance, reluctantly loosening their grips on Glitch. The youngest dancer of Hi-Def's burn-covered arms fell onto the ground, unmoving like the rest of him.
"You're lucky," a guttural voice growled into his ear. "That lighter saved your sorry ass."
Glitch didn't respond, too focused on trying to make the pain go away. The owner of the voice muttered something about how Glitch wasn't any fun, before finally leaving with the others.
He waited until they were gone before he even attempted to move. His fingers bent slightly, resulting in his seared flesh to ache and burn as if the lighter was still there. After the first wave of pain was done, he slowly pushed himself up. He coughed, raggedly breath. He shakily wiped off the drool off of his chin and sat up shakily.
Cringing, Glitch looked at his arms. He wasn't an expert when it came to burns, but they didn't look too bad. He'd have to Google how to deal with them when he got home.
"Oh God," he shuddered, arms trembling as they loosely wrapped around his torso.
The pain was impossible to describe. The burns felt like they were still underneath the flame of the lighter, and the world spun uncontrollably. His ribs were screaming at him with every breath, while he was dizzy from having his head slammed into the sidewalk.
Leaning heavily against the wall, Glitch managed to push himself onto unsteady legs. Once he was sure he could stand by himself, he wiped the blood from his forehead, picked up his backpack and made his way back to his apartment.
Dirty and pitying looks were thrown in Glitch's direction as he unsteadily walked down the sidewalk. No one asked if he was all right, or if he needed any help, even when he tripped and could barely pull himself back into a standing position. Everyone just figured he was a drug user or had been in some type of gang-related fight.
By the time he reached his apartment building, he knew that his grandfather would be furious. It was about six, and he had promised that he would be home around two, since it was an early out at school. Maybe I can sneak in from the back…
Glitch's plan was immediately thwarted when he saw his grandfather standing by the entrance. He dragged Glitch towards the rarely used back door, which was on the side of the building. Fuck.
"Where have you been?' Grandpa asked, his arms crossed and face furious.
Glitch shrugged, head bowed in shame. Grandpa's work-worn hand nudged his chin up, and the dancer's elder inspected the bruises and scrapes. He also pulled Glitch's sleeves up and stared at the multiple burn marks.
"It's nothing," Glitch mumbled, pulling his sleeves back down.
"That's not nothing!" Grandpa argued. "Who's doing this to you?"
"It's nothing," Glitch repeated, refusing to meet his grandfather's searching eyes.
"Stop lying," Grandpa snapped, holding up multiple scraps of paper. "I found these while I was waiting for you to come home." Glitch felt a sinking feeling when he saw that they were some of the many death threats and insults he received on a daily basis.
"Did you go through my stuff?" Glitch asked angrily, snatching them out of his hands and stuffing them into his pocket. Grandpa stopped him before he could, though, and put them back into his own pocket.
"No, they were in the trashcan," Grandpa responded. "Boy, why didn't you tell me about this?" His voice had gone soft, edged with concern for his favorite grandson. "I could've helped. You didn't have to suffer through this alone."
Glitch shied away from his grandfather's touch, hands clenching. "Because I didn't want to disappoint you!" he screamed. "It's shameful that I can't make them stop by myself, and that I have to look to other people for help!"
"Boy…"
"I'll be home tonight!"
Glitch vehemently ignored the pain that was coursing through his body and the cries to come back as he ran away from his grandfather. He didn't focus on where he was going, just ran as fast and as far as his stiff legs could take him.
Grandpa stared at the direction that his grandson had ran. His body was aching for him to run after him, but he knew that he would end up hurting himself and doing more harm than good. He was simply too old.
The pain he felt for his grandson made his chest hurt. How could Glitch think that Grandpa would be ashamed of him? He could never be ashamed of his wonderful grandson, he loved him too much. Even if Glitch became a wanted criminal, Grandpa would still love him and care for him.
He searched his memory, trying to think of where Glitch would run off. Didn't he say something about a friend owning a yacht? Yes! Him and his friend—Mo, wasn't it?—liked to hang out at the docks with their other dancing friends.
Grandpa zipped up his jacket to fight off the biting wind and made his way purposefully towards the docks.
"Get me another smoothie," Miss Aubrey whined from her place by the poolside, shaking her empty cup.
"Do it yo' self," Taye said, throwing a few more poker chips into the large stack in the center. "We busy."
All of the dancers—excluding Lil'T and Glitch, who had school, and the Glitterati crew—were lounging around Miss Aubrey's yacht. The large glass doors were open so that the boys and Taye, who were playing poker, could still talk to Miss Aubrey and Emilia, who were sunbathing and swimming.
Miss Aubrey pouted, before smiling when a butler came scuttling up with a new drink, eager to keep his boss's daughter happy.
"Ha!" Mo crowed victoriously as everyone else at the table groaned. "I win, bitches!" Angel and Taye cursed colorfully as Mo moved all of the chips to his own pile, cackling gleefully.
"Excuse me, sir," the butler came up, tapping Mo on the shoulder. "But you have a visitor."
"Aw, sweet!" he said cheerily. "Who is it? A hot chick?"
"Um, no," the butler said. "A man named Mr. Seung, claiming to be Mr. Glitch's grandfather. Would you like me to send him away, sir?"
Mo scrabbled out of his chair, cursing loudly. He quickly started fiddling with his clothes and took of his head. "Hell naw! Quick, quick, let him in!"
"Why are you freaking out?" Bodie asked him blankly, watching as his fellow dancer fussed over his appearance.
"Glitch nevah talks 'bout his family, at all," Mo explained. "Dis is the first time I've even heard about a fam'ly member, an' I wanna make a good impression."
He snapped his head up and stood as straight as possible as the elderly man walked in. He had an air about him that was regal and stern, examining the room he was in. Everyone else in the room also stood up, eager to meet their best friend's grandfather.
"Uh, hello, sir," Mo said awkwardly, heart beating rapidly. He held out his hand. "Um, I'm Mo. Glitch's friend."
He cringed underneath Mr. Seung's calculating stare as he sized the other man up. Mo vehemently wished he hadn't worn his usual street clothes. The elder man's face gave none of his emotions or thoughts away.
"Nice to meet you," he said shortly, shaking Mo's hand firmly. Mo inwardly sighed, relieved he had passed his inspection.
Each one of the dancers introduced themselves politely, shaking his hand and returning the bows he gave them. After they were done, Mo quickly ushered him into the seat beside him, racing to the mini-bar and grabbing a glass of water for him.
"I apologize for coming so abruptly," Mr. Seung said, sipping his water delicately. "I would have called in advance, yet I only had the address."
"It's perfectly fine," Emilia hastily assured him,
"I hate to sound rude," Miss Aubrey said, watching from the minibar, "but why are you here?"
"Aubrey!" Angel hissed, sending her a warning look.
"No, no, I understand," Mr. Seung said calmly, sipping his water. He calmly turned his attention to Mo, who was fidgeting in his seat. "I've come to talk to you about Jae-Kwang."
They all stared at him blankly. "Glitch," Mr. Seung clarified. Everyone immediately understood, and he muttered something in Korean under his breath.
"I'm worried about his welfare at school and with my"—he grimaced—"daughter. But before we get into the long story of our many family issues, I will start with the school."
He pulled out a stack of papers from his pockets and set them on the table. Curiously, everyone picked one up and then gasped at the horrific pictures and notes, all negatively directed at Glitch.
"What are these?" Emilia asked in horror.
"Only a few of the many notes Glitch's classmates have been giving him every day," Mr. Seung said, sadness filling his gaze. "I do not know how long this has gone on for, but for at least a year. Judging from the bruises and burn marks—"
"Burn marks?" Mo and Bodie gasped in horror.
Mr. Seung nodded. "He came home today three hours late with his arms covered in burns. And then I believe he has hurt his side, judging from the way he's been limping lately."
"Oh my God," Aubrey whispered shakily, a hand resting on her lips as her eyes watered. She stared at the note in front of her, which graphically depicted how someone wanted to rape Glitch before slitting his throat.
"These aren't even the worse," Mr. Seung said bitterly. "Did you all notice nothing with Glitch?"
Mo felt himself get choked up, which hadn't happened in years. "No," mumbled. "I-I didn't notice anything."
"He's been very distant lately," Bodie explained, putting a comforting hand on Mo's shoulder. "And you know how well he can when something's botherin' him." Mr. Seung smiled sourly in agreement.
"But what about his parents?" Angel spoke up. "I know Glitch lives with them—"
"He lives with a pathetic excuse of an Aunt and her idiotic husband," Mr. Seung suddenly snarled, slamming the glass down. "They could care less about what happens to him, and beat him into bloody pulps when he makes the smallest or errors. And no matter how many times I try to take custody of him, they pull strings and keep him, those—"
He cursed in rapid Korean for a few minutes before regaining his posture. They all stared at him with matching expressions of horror.
Finally, Mr. Seung spoke again. "I'm too old to do what needs to be done," he said tiredly. "I don't feel like calling on my old contacts from Korea to set these punks straight, so I found you all." He was quiet for a moment, and everyone started when they realized he was crying.
Taye reached for his calloused hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"You don't even have to ask," Miss Aubrey said with a smile. "Of course we will.
That's it for this chapter :) Please review and/or favorite, if you would be so kind~
Now, with my kitten in my lap and my laptop next to me, I shall start the next chapter! Huzzah!