I can't believe my Mom actually let that fucking bastard stay here. She knows what happened! What the hell is she thinking? Is she trying to make me go through hell again?

I groan as I feel the sun's beams of light burn through my eyelids.

Another day.

Another day.

Another day to try to get my life back together.

Another day to fix things with Curly.

Another day to get Angela to even talk to me.

Another day to try to ignor that voice.

Don't count on it.

Another day to go through. . . but with him.

It's okay. . . It's okay. . .

I just have to hurry up and get dressed, and be away from the house the entire day.

I throw my covers off and roll out of the bed. With quivering legs, I stagger toward the bathroom. As I passed by everyone's room, I can see Curly is gone, Angela is gone, Mom is gone. . . but he is still sleeping.

It's okay, it's fine.

Just be quiet.

I slowly closed the bathroom door and start the shower. I glance back at the door for a few moments before I stip myself.

The warm water was soothing, and it got me thinking, deeply.

Maybe I should just tell Curly and Angela what happend and get it over with? I thought. If they understand what happened, they could see why I was around Dad so much when we were little and they won't hate me anymore!

. . . But what if they don't believe me? Curly's big on denial. Yet, why would I lie about that? Maybe they'd be reasonable. . .

"You should realy learn to lock the door when you take a shower."

I froze.

"And maybe you shouldn't doze off either."

His arms were already around me, making their way lower and lower.

I grab his hands, stuggling to keep then at bay.

"Don't try ta resist it, I'll only make it harder for you if you do."

I didn't say anything. I just continued to keep his hands away from there.

I don't know why you'r trying, you obviously love it when he touches you.

"Shut the fuck up." I absentmindedly growl out.

"What the fuck did ya just say ta me you brat?"

I gasp when I realize what I just did.

"You don't fuckin' talk ta me like that Tim! You got any fuckin' idea what I can do to ya?" Without giving me a chance to answer, he knocks me in the back of my head, making me go down.

I tried to get up and escape, but he flipped me onto my back and pinned me easily. I felt a hand wrap tightly around my throte at that moment. I stuggled to breath, but his hand only got tighter and tighter.

"P-please, st-stop!" I manage to choke out.

"I'll let go when i'm done, brat." He sais with a smirk.

He doesn't hesitate to shove his thing in me. I let out a strained shreik as pounds into me, harder and faster.

I can't breath.

His other hand trails down my chest, eventually reaching my member. I shamefully let out a strained moan.

See? You love it.

I didn't feel like arguing with that bullheaded voice at the time.

I can't breath!

I try to scream to hopefully get someone's attention, but even in my desprate state, I knew that wasn't gonna happen. I try kicking around, hoping to knock him off, but the best I could do was piss him off. He stopped stroking my manhood just to punch my face, then went back to what he was doing.

I CAN'T BREATH!

The lack of oxygen finally got to me, and everything went black.

I woke up in a clean white room that reminds mealot of. . . A-Am. . . Am I in the hospital?

"He's awake! Go tell the doctor!" I then heard slow footsteps leave the room.

It took me a while for my mind to register that there were other people in the room.

Even after they spoke? Are you freaking stupid?

"Leave me alone." I growl.

Angela, who was just about to hug, stepped back and pouted.

"Fine!" She huffs, "Be that way."

I could hear her gumble something like "You try to make people feel better and they snap at you, hmph!" as she stompped out of the room.

My mother put her hand on my shoulder. (I didn't even know she was there.)

"Don't feel bad, honey, she's just worried about you."

I tried to lift my hand to push hers away, but it stopped. I glance down at my hand to see that it was cuffed to the bed. I glance at my mother, horrified.

". . . I-I can explain that. U-Um, whe-"

"Ah! I see you'r looking fine!" The doctor came in with. . . him and Curly following behind.

I try to say something, but all that came out was a long, concerned groan.

You fucking idoit.

I fought the urge to yell back at the voice.

Finally finding my voice, I ask, "W-Why am I here?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

I mentally slap myself. How could I forget? That was the very last thing that happened before I blacked out. . . But if that's the case, why am I handcuffed to the bed and why's my Dad not being man-handled by the fuzz?

"Why am I handcuffed to the bed?" I ask.

The doctor fixed his glasses and cleared his throte. . . Was it. . . Was it realy that bad?

"Well, the handcuffs are manditory if a patient has been brought in after trying to kill themself."

I couldn't respond.

". . . Your father here found you hanging yourself in your backyard and brought you here."

. . .

I stole a glance at my father. He was giving me a victorious smirk, but nobody was looking at him except for me.

I ball my hands into a fist and look down, "Oh." Is all I can say.

The doctor went on about my condition. Then some time later, a cop came in to lecture me on how I could become a danger to everyone around me and stuff if I did this again. I didn't listen to him either, I didn't even care. I was just staring at my brother from the corner of my eyes as they each talked to me. He was trying to talk to dad, but he kept telling Curly to hush and that he should be more worried about me.

Yeah, Curly's gonna be pissed off at me.

Dur, ya' think so?

"Don't talk to me anymore, dammit." I whisper.

Obviously, the doctor heard me because he stopped. He cleared hie throte after a second then continued.

"A-Anyway, you'll be able to leave tomorrow morning." I nodded in response, "In the mean time, the rest of you should leave, visiting hours are ending."

Everyone got up to leave without hesitation. . . But then,

"I'd like to talk to my son alone real quickly, if that's alright with you." He asked.

The doctor nodded with a 'yessir' and left the room along with everybody else, closing the door behind himself.

He stood there staring at me, face bent into one of annoyance. I don't know why he was annoyed, he wasn't the one that almost got choked to death by his own flesh and blood dad. The mixture of silence and stillness in the air made me feel both uncomfortable and scared. My heart rate was picking up, my breathing became uneven, my eyes couldn't stop blinking, I was a trembling mess.

The silence was broken when the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. I rubbed be stinging red cheek, a tear threatening to spill from my eye.

"Yer a real inconvenience, ya' know that?" He growled, "Honestly, you realy can't hold yer breath fer five minutes?" I wanted to say something smart, but I didn't.

He stikes me across the face again with the back of his hand, this time drawing blood from his nails.

"You know how much hospital bills can cost? Do ya'?" I make a noise like a squeel or a wimper, ". . . Apologize to me. Apologize to me fer havin' ta' pay this damn bill."

I only wimper again.

He grabs the collar of my hospital gown and shakes me, "Apologize right now!"

"Okay! Okay! I-I'm sorry!"

He pushed me back, making my head connect hard with the headboard. He left the room glaring at me.

I laid down onto my side, sobbing loudly.

A few moments later the doctor came in, and I quickly wiped my tears away and steadied my breathing.

He stared at me for a while, then asked, ". . . Your father. . . He hit you, didn't he?" I nod absentmindedly, "Would you like for to go get that police officer?"

I almost nod, but the voice. . .

No, he hit me because he was concerned for me. He's just upset that I'd do something like this.

"No, he hit me because he was concerned for me. He's just upset that I'd do something like this."

"Are you sure young man?"

I am completely sure. He did that out of love. He's never done it before.

"I am completely sure. He did that out of love. He's never done it before."

"Well, alright. I'll be back later to check up on you." He leaves.

"What the hell was that?" I almost yelled.

I spoke for you Tim. I stopped you from doing something drastic.

"What the hell do you mean drastic? I was finally thinking clearly! That bastard was finally ganna get thrown behind bars like he should have a long time ago! Then maybe HE'D become someone's bitch!"

You wouldn't understand right now Tim. There're somethings you need to know before your father is realy gone for good.

"Fuck you."

I was shaking with rage. That damn voice ruins everything. I swear, if it was real, I'd beat the living shit out of it.

I can hear what you'r thinking.

"You were ment to."

I took a moment to think. . .

"Who'r you supposed to be anyway? Making desicions for me."

You can call me GLaDOS.

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

(Author sais; Forgive me. . .)