"I TOLD YOU TO LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!" Rudolph West yelled. Wally had been watching TV, and when his mother had asked him to take out the dog he'd been too enraptured to notice. Now his father had him pinned against the wall and was, like the others nights, screaming in his face.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I swear, I'm sorry!" Wally said, terrified. His mother looked away- she'd grown used to this by now, but that didn't make it any easier.
Rudolph slapped his son across the face, and Wally's head snapped to the side. His cheek stung, there was a red mark, and tears started to leak from his eyes.
"Don't tell me you're gonna cry." Rudolph said, slamming his son's back against the wall. "Now get down. Shirt off, you know the drill."
"No, Dad, please, no..." Wally choked out.
"I said! What I say goes, Wallace, unless you want it even worse! Down. Now. Shirt off."
Wally turned to his mother, eyes pleading, but she simply said nothing, eyes glued to the ground.
"Well?" His father grunted, letting go of his son and waiting for him to obey the order.
Wally stood, shaking, before turning to run. He was so scared even using his super speed didn't come to mind, and he instead trying to make it to the bathroom where he could lock the door behind him...
"Wallace!" his father thundered, angry. Wally struggled to shut the bathroom door as his father pushed against it, terrified. His feet lost their traction and the door flew into him, hitting his face...
Blood started to drip from his nose, and he cried as his father dragged him into the living room, forcing him onto his hands and knees and roughly ripping the boy's shirt off.
"P-p-please... d-don't!" Wally squeaked, desperate. But Rudolph said nothing, simply pulling off his belt and bringing it down on his son's bear back, HARD.
Wally sobbed as the belt was brought down on him again, and again, and again...
He begged his father to stop, sobbing, and his father finally dropped the belt to the ground, looking down, disgusted, at the sobbing boy. He took his wife's hand and left the room.
Wally gasped, feeling the pain of it all running through him. He staggered to his feet, pulling on his shirt painfully. He crawled over to the door, wincing. The wounds on his back hurt so bad, burning, but he managed to tie on his sketchers and slowly got to his feet, opening the door.
He wasn't going to stay here anymore. He was going to find one of the few people in his life who gave a damn.