The end of school rolled around too soon. Joey took a deep breath, it was a Monday, so the chaos began tonight. Waving a goodbye to his friends, he ran off and headed home.
'He's getting worse.' Téa looked to Tristan, who simply nodded in reply.
'He probably just has things to do…' Yugi looked at his friends, as wide eyed as ever. They watched the blond run off, nodding slowly.
Joey arrived home. His father wasn't in, he didn't expect him to be, quickly, and he ran into his room, picked up a bowler shirt and hat before running off again. He pulled a taxi by the street corner, before arriving in the next town. He paid the taxi man and nodded thanks. Joey Wheeler, pizza delivery guy. He would never do it in Domino, too much chance of someone he knew finding out. So he worked here. From 6pm to 2am…he delivered pizzas to the needy…the needy of pizza. His shift was incredibly uneventful from the moment it started to the second it ended. Getting back in the taxi, he pulled the cap off his sweat drenched hair, musing it between his fingers. It had been a long night and he couldn't wait to get back home and into bed.
When the taxi pulled up, he noticed there where no lights on at home. He took a deep breath, this meant he finally had the house free to shower before bed. Brilliant. Tuesday was off to a good start. He gently pushed the door open, smiling into the darkness. He took a few steps in before his collar was grabbed and he was thrown again a wall. The door slammed and everything was dark.
'You lil shit.' Joey's head bolted to where the noise had come from. He recognised the voice… 'Wha the fuck ya doin' comin' in at dis hour?' he felt a blow to his ribs, instantly making him cough.
'I was working.' Joey blocked the oncoming blow to his head. He was already in pain, he didn't need to be unconscious, or else his father wouldn't know when to stop. He heard his father walk away, and Joey instantly got up to run to his room, but he was too slow. The older Wheeler threw a large, full, wine bottle at his son. Joey flinched, and was taken by the collar again as he did so. Damn he moved fast for a drunken guy. Joey felt two blows to his stomach, before smash over his head. His head wound split…again. He tried his best to remain focused, knowing he was becoming concussed. The next blow he didn't expect. His father punched him in the face. On the left eye to be more exact, knocking the blond out of his own grasp and onto the floor. Joey touched the tender spot, feeling blood spot his finger tip. His father had never hit his face before, because it meant that there would be visible evidence.
'Dad what the…' he was cut off by the kick to his jaw. It was enough to bruise it, defiantly, but it didn't crack, luckily.
'You bastard! Working! You think I can't look after myself!' The older Wheeler's eyes burned red, it was almost luminous in the darkness. He gave 4 more kicks to the blond's face, one hitting his lip, his eye again, his cheek bone and the back of his head after Joey had rolled over. His left eye could no longer stay open; it was swollen, and too painful. With one final blow to the ribs, the elder left. Joey coughed, feeling fluid rush through his insides and out of his mouth. It was warm, thick and coppery…never a good combination. Using one arm, he pulled himself along the floor and to his bedroom, pushing the door open with one arm and continuing to drag himself inside. This was by far the worst he'd received in a long time…maybe ever. He pulled himself over to his bed, his stomach twisting with every movement. He felt sick with all the pain. He'd only been trying to help the debt, but it had ended up hurting his father's pride. He was really stupid sometimes. He had 3 jobs and he couldn't just give them up, they needed the money…he needed the money. He needed to eat and pay for medical costs. The honey eyed boy crawled to the bathroom, before throwing up in the bathroom. Blood mingled with bile…fuck…he really did receive the beating of a life time. He'd never been hit hard enough to make himself sick. He laid against the wall, taking long, deep breaths trying to steady himself. With the ounce of strength he has, he used the toilet, and then the sink to pull himself up. He looked in the mirror to a face he couldn't recognise. He threw up again. He wasn't as strong as he thought, but he had to clean up. Running the tap, he splashed his face a few times, rubbing off the dried blood. The open cuts caused surging pain in his face. He gently ran a hand down his torso, a sharp pain rippled through his body making him sick again. It felt like 2 cracked ribs. He pulled the bandages out again, pulling them especially tight this time. He needed to keep it a crack, or else he'd have to go into hospital again. His lip was bruised and swollen, much like his eye, which featured a small cut beneath it. Glass scratched covered the left side of his face also, as well as a harsh bruise on the corner of his jaw. He rubbed it lightly, it was sore, but not broken.
He stared at himself for a long time in the mirror, contemplating what he'd do at school. Maybe he wouldn't go…no. That would mean a day with the older Wheeler, or getting caught by the police, which could never lead to anything good. He had to go in tomorrow. He used the wall to stumble back to his bedroom, gripping it tightly. 04.07. flashed on the digital clock…fuck. 2 hours…he pulled off his trousers and laid on the bed, careful to avoid his head wound and the left side of his face. Tuesday was defiantly not off to a good start.
Heylo!
A bit late, right? Sorry. But thanks to everyone who read my stuff yesterday getting me nearly 1000 reads! Thanks!
I wanna get 1000 now…so yeah!
I hope you like it.
R&R
Much love
Xxx
Also, don't forget to check out Magnetic-Paw on deviantART, who wrote this story, and most of the imagery in this story is based off her artwork. Yeh!
