Hey y'all! I'm so sorry that this is late (I try to update every other week, probably on Mondays). School is really getting me down though. Teachers seem to think that since we go on Christmas Break this week, it's their duty to pile as much homework on us as they can. I have had to do 3 lab write ups for my science teacher Mrs. Kirk, including the one from today! Plus I'm only allowed to have 1 hour on the computer per day, and the lab write ups take up most of that time. Anyways, enjoy!

Phillip's POV

I sighed quietly from my hiding place in the bushes. I had ditched practice today to spy on the Sandlot team and get some pointers. They were really good and I couldn't help feeling a tiny bit jealous. Maybe if I could play like they could my father would finally be proud of me.

I studied the way Rodriquez was completely relaxed, how he held his bat, and where he placed his feet. He was always relaxed when he was up to bat and he seemed to know that he could hit anything anyone could throw at him. And he could. Maybe that was what my problem was. I was always tense and nervous when I played because I was scared that I would disappoint my father. Then I was so nervous that I messed up and disappointed my father anyways. And it sure didn't help to have Ham saying stupid things to me and distracting me.

As I stared, I saw that the team made an excellent play and almost tagged Rodriquez. Then, instead of getting upset that they didn't get him, they laughed and congratulated him!

The rest of the day proceeded in a similar manner. Rodriquez would hit the ball and run, the team would just barely miss tagging him out, and then they would all give him high-fives or thumbs up and they would get ready to do it all over again.

It was the complete opposite of my team. We rarely ever hit the ball, and when we did make a good hit, the outfield was all jumbled up and couldn't catch the ball. Then my father would storm out onto the field and yell at us and tell us every single thing we did wrong. There is not positive encouragement on my team. There is only mess up and get yelled at, mess up and get threatened, mess up and get sent home.

I sighed as I witnessed the pure joy on the team's faces as they played and joked with each other. The joy that was never present when I played. The joy that was there every single time they played.

All too soon it was time for the Sandlot team to go to their houses since it was getting too dark to play anymore. I saw them all troop out of the Sandlot laughing and shoving and joking with each other the entire way, like true friends do.

I almost stood up from my hiding place in the bushes and ran to go home, but I spotted Rodriquez and that wimpy kid Smalls over in the dugout just in time. Rodriquez grabbed his bat and his ball and they both ran to catch up with the rest of their friends.

I waited until they were out to jump up and sprint over to the shortcut I had found a couple days ago that lead straight to my house.

As I ran I wondered what my father was going to do to me. I was always supposed to home around dusk and it was currently full on night time. He was going to kill me, or at least come pretty darn close.

When I finally arrived at my house, panting, I saw Rodriquez and Smalls wandering down the road a couple block back and I cursed when I realized they would probably hear the whole thing. All thoughts of them flew out of my head however when the living room light flicked on and heavy footsteps could be heard clomping towards the door.

I cringed and took a step back when I heard the lock click and the door was suddenly yanked open. My father was standing silhouetted in the doorway with a disapproving glare on his face. He latched onto my arm with his iron grip and dragged me into the house.

Then he slammed the door behind us and threw me roughly onto the hard tiles of our kitchen. I winced as I landed on a shattered beer bottle, and then my eyes widened as I realized my father had been drinking, a lot, and that I was officially screwed.

"WHERE THE HECK WERE YOU?!" he yelled staring down at me.

"I-well-I-um… I was taking the scenic route home?" I stuttered. My father obviously heard the question in my answer and he quickly reared back and slapped me in the face.

As I cradled my now sore cheek in my hands he screamed, "THAT'S FOR LYING TO ME! NOW WHERE WERE YOU REALLY?!"

"At the Sandlot." I muttered quietly in a terrified voice, bracing myself for the pain that I was positive was about to come. My father's eyes widened and he leaned down so that he was staring right into my eyes.

"And why were you at the Sandlot?" He whispered in a voice that was probably supposed to sound kind but ended up just sounding threatening. I gagged as I smelled the liquor on his breath, and answered in a whisper, "I wanted to see the team play." I immediately cringed back. I knew that he would be mad, but I knew it would be worse if I attempted to lie to him again.

"WHAT?!" he roared. "WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO WATCH THOSE PATHETIC BASEBALL TEAM WANNABES PRACTICE?" Then he slapped me again, on the other cheek this time, and he punched me in the lip, making it split open and start bleeding. The thick red blood gushed over my face, but I was too scared at the moment to lift my arm and wipe it away.

When I stayed silent he let out a scream of pure rage and started to slap and punch any inch of skin he could reach. I stayed silent still knowing that any noise will just enrage him even more than he already was.

Then he proceeded to pin me to the ground by my neck and started to "remind" me of how worthless I was and how he was ashamed that he had such a failure for a son, cussing throughout the entire process.

Finally after what felt like hours but was probably only about 10 minutes, he sat back on his heels and stared down at me. I made a split second decision and shoved him as hard as I could while he was unbalanced. Then I waited until he crashed onto the floor onto his back to jump up, rip the door open, and sprint through it, out into the cold night.

I pushed my aching muscles to carry me away from that horrible house as fast as I could without completely collapsing. I knew that I would have to go back sooner or later and receive my punishment, but until then I was going to put as much distance between my father and I as possible.

Suddenly 2 shapes seemed to materialize in front of me, and due to my momentum there was no way to stop or to avoid them. I just slammed into them, apologizing to them in my head as my throat hurt too much to talk, and kept on running. I heard a voice behind me say, "Well that was rude!" and I realized I had just run into Rodriquez and Smalls. I didn't turn around to acknowledge them because I knew they would recognize me instantly and wonder what I was doing running through the streets at this time of night.

I ran for another block or so and then I turned down the first alley I came to and scuttled to the very back. Then I plopped down with my already bruising face buried firmly into my knees and let all the pent up tears of the night roll down my face. Before I knew it I was sobbing harshly, the sound seeming to come from somewhere deep inside of me, although it was very quietly.

All of a sudden I sensed that there was someone standing at the entrance of the alley. Then I heard footsteps which I knew meant that another person was coming to ogle at me. Great. Soon I heard the footsteps come closer and I heard the person's foot hit an empty beer bottle. The sound reminded me of my father and I stiffened as bad memories suddenly flooded through my head.

The kid probably thought that the reason I stiffened was because I was afraid of him because I heard him cautiously say, "I'm really sorry to bother you, but… are you okay?" I started crying and shaking harder when I realized the voice belonged to Rodriquez; I was hoping he would think I was unstable or something and just leave me alone.

I heard him mutter "Obviously not," under his breath and I almost groaned in frustration when he told me soothingly, "Don't worry. We're not going to hurt you. We just want to talk." I had to admit being able to talk to someone about my… predicament sounded nice, but I quickly squashed that thought as I pictured the disgusted look on his face, the pity, the sympathy he would show when I told him that my own father thought that I was worthless. I decided to just stay silent. He must've thought that that meant it was okay for him to come closer since he took one step towards me.

I started panicking and hyperventilating trying frantically to communicate without words that I did not want him to come any closer and he quickly retreated. "Kid, it's okay! Calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep breathing like that!" he whispered and I could tell he was freaking out, but he was trying to keep calm for my sake.

I tried to calm down, really! But in the end I was panicking too much, my entire body ached, and I was just too exhausted to stay conscious any longer. I just gave one last faltering breath before black started crowding around the edge of my vision. My last though was, "Please don't look at me, please don't find out who I am! You can't know!" but I knew he was going to look as soon as my body went limp. I just hoped he would leave me here to suffer in peace. The last thing I saw was him coming closer and reaching to turn me over before all of my pain faded and my world was consumed by a warm comforting blackness.

Well... That was depressing. I felt sad when I wrote this. Is it pathetic that my life goal is to write something that makes me, the author who actually knows how the story will end, cry? Probably... Anyways, I always feel like a hypocrite when I say this because I only review half of the stories that I read, but could you pretty please with Leo Valdez on top review? P.S. Do any of you support Puckabrina? My friend and I were having a serious fangirling session with squealing and the works in the school library this morning about Puckabrina. Just tell me in your review or send me a PM. (P.P.S. "By the way, when I said 'Wow', I was looking at you" By Puck)

P.P.P.S Happy Authors Write Better and Faster, So Review and Make Me Happy!