A/N: HII GUYS! So glad you're here!
This multi-chapter fic follows Cole's journey of his life based on Dork Squad, Assemble by ShinyShiny9. I wanted to dive deep into his life, so this is like the origin story. Kinda. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
Feel free to comment but please, please, please use CLEAN and APPROPRIATE language! Thank you!
NOTE: This story was originally posted on AO3 (Archive of Our Own). This is my first time using this platform. I just wanted to try it out. You can find all my AO3 stories under my username: KittenNinja
ps. You might want to get a bunch of facial tissues because you will be crying by the end of this story. (How do I know? I was crying while writing this)
Cole ran as fast as he could, quickly trying to get home.
He was late and he needed to get back before his dad noticed. He stopped right in front of his house to catch his breath. Putting on an emotionless mask, he opened the door, stepping into the house.
He quickly bowed his head, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, quietly trying to get to his room unnoticed. Maybe he might be lucky. His dad might not even notice- "Where were you?" A gruff, slurred voice demanded snapping Cole out of his thoughts.
Swallowing, he quickly thought of an excuse. "I-I was at school." he lied. The man glared at him.
Before Cole could even blink, the fronts of his sweater were gripped tightly, and he was forced forward, his face an inch away from the man. Cole's eyes widened with fear, taking the in man's appearance. The man's hair was wild and unkempt. His eyes were blurred and seemingly unfocused. And his breath-
Fear gripped Cole as the man's breath hit him. It smelled of strong alcohol.
The man was drunk.
"Why were you so late then?" the drunk man slurred. "Doesn't school end at 5:30?" Swallowing the fear, Cole answered, avoiding the man's unfocused gaze. "I-I-I n-needed help with s-something," he lied. "I-I needed extra help with my c-class work." There was silence and all Cole could hear was his pounding heartbeat. Quietly he added. "I p-promise I'll try to come home earlier... Dad."
Cole closed his eyes, hoping that his father would believe him. Hoping that his father wouldn't hit him again. Hoping that at least one day, his father would stop drinking and actually be his dad.
The strong grip on his sweater was suddenly gone, and he was pushed away. Surprised, Cole stumbled back, tripping on his feet, and painfully hitting the wall. He closed his eyes, waiting for the blows to come but it never did. Hesitantly, he opened one eye.
His dad wasn't there.
He quickly got up, peeking into the living room. His dad was on the couch, chugging down a bottle of booze, a remote in his hand, flipping through channels, as if nothing had happened.
Not wanting to test his luck, Cole quickly scrambled up the stairs to his room. He placed his bag on the floor and closed the door. He, then, turned around and let his back slide down the wall, letting at the breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Cole sat there in silence, listening to his breathing, trying to calm down. Before he knew it, a familiar burning went to his eyes. He silently cursed quickly wiping them away. He didn't have time to cry. Trying was for people who were weak and helpless. But despite his efforts, the tears fell. And before he knew it, he was crying. Pressing a hand to his mouth, trying to make as little noise as he could, Cole sobbed.
He missed the days when he and his dad used to play and just have fun together. He missed his mom. He missed the feeling of what it was like to be loved. The tears continued to fall and Coke felt as though the air around him had become much thinner. He found himself struggling to take in air as well as to let it out.
He couldn't breathe.
Cole's eyes widened in realization. He was having a panic attack.
He needed to breathe.
He needed to calm down.
He needed to relax.
He needed to focus.
But he couldn't.
All Cole could hear was his ragged, torn breath. His heart beat which was beating too loudly. All he could hear was the pain. The hurt. The sadness that he had hidden inside of him. It was all too loud. It felt as though the world was caving in on him. Trying to suffocate him. Everything was too loud. He needed to breathe. He needed-
Quickly scrambling up, Cole pounced on his bed, tearing open his backpack and reaching in for his headphones. Putting them on, he scrambled for his phone, scrolling through his playlist, trying to find it-
A soothing harp melody cut through Cole's chaos.
Closing his eyes, he hugged his phone to his chest and fell back on the bed, facing the ceiling.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Taking deep breaths, Cole let the music go over him like gentle waves. After a while, he realized that his heartbeat and his breathing had calmed down.
Taking his headphones off, he sat up. "You're okay," Cole whispered to himself as he wiped away his tears. "You're okay." Checking his phone, Cole cursed once again. He had wasted almost 30 minutes crying.
Taking a deep breath he got out of bed and tugged at the bedsheets. He stuck his hand through a slit in the mattress' fabric and pulled out his treasure. Sure enough, it was all there. He pulled out a wad of crumpled cash out of his sweater's pocket. He straightened the money out before placing it in the slit.
His dad had stopped working when Cole turned 14 claiming that 1) Cole was old enough to make his own money and 2) he needed time to "think". (More like needed time to get drunk)
So of course, Cole had to start working. But due to all child labor laws, he hadn't found a place to work. So at first, he just started doing errands. But then, he found out about Coraco's.
Coraco's was a club that was surprisingly clean. The manager had only stared at Cole when he had asked for a job. "Well, the only job we have for you is the DJ. How good are you with turntables, boy?"
The honest answer was a "not that good, sir" but Cole was in desperate need of a proper job. Doing errands was good enough to get food on his plate, but not good enough to pay for both taxes and rent.
So Cole started playing around with the turntables, and to his utter surprise and delight, he found out that he was really good at being a DJ. Not only did he play for the money but he really enjoyed doing it.
Soon, working at Coraco's became the highlight of Cole's day.
The pay wasn't the best, but it helped take care of the expenses, and sometimes there was money left over. Working in a club had exposed him to many things. And had also sparked interest in other things.
One of those things was smoking. Although he had heard many lessons in Health Class about the dangers of smoking, Cole still decided to try it. But then one cigarette turned to two, which turned to three, and so on and so forth. Cole didn't know how much money he spent on cigarette packs, but they were so worth it.
Cigarettes were something that helped calm him, just like music did. Regardless, Cole found his life starting to get a lot better. Working had given him a sense of purpose so that was a plus.
He didn't know when exactly it happened, but Cole started dreaming for the future. He started saving his money so that when he turned 18, he could flee. He could leave Ninjago City and either go inland or leave for another country. But either way, he would be far away from his dad.
Taking a deep breath, Cole let himself fall back to reality. He sat on his bed, spilling the books out of his bag. He liked the lumpy feel his mattress had, due to all the cash stuffed in it. Just before he started on his schoolwork, Cole paused, contemplating whether or not he should smoke. He shrugged. Why not?
Reaching underneath his pillow, Cole pulled out the cigarette to pack. He lit one, almost instantly calming down as he breathed in the smoke. He started working on his homework feeling relaxed all over.
Only when the cigarette had burned clown to a stump, did Cole get up. Safely discarding it, he hesitantly opened his bedroom door. He could hear the TV still playing.
Good.
Quietly walking down the stairs, he entered the small kitchenette. He opened a pantry and took out a jar of peanut butter as well as a jar of jelly. He opened the bread packet and took out four slices of bread. Humming quietly to himself, Cole prepared two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
He took a deep breath and walked towards the living room. "Hey Dad," he said quietly, "You're probably hungry, soo..." He trailed off. There was no reply, as usual. Cole sighed and placed the plate next to his father, who had passed out.
Hesitantly. Cole pried the bottle out of his father's grip. He picked up the remote turning the TV off. He turned to look at the man he called his father. He went back to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. As he walked back to the living room, he picked up a blanket. He placed the glass on the plate and gently covered his father with the blanket, making sure he was kept warm.
Cole, then, stepped back and continued to stare sadly at his inebriated father. His dad was supposed to look after him, not the other way around.
Taking a deep breath, Cole walked back to the kitchenette. He placed the bottle in a cabinet. He, then, picked up the sandwich and started eating it, the familiar burning returning to his eyes. But this time he let the tears fall. This time it was not a sob, but rather a quiet cry of one who didn't know what to do. Quietly sniffling to himself, Cole finished his homework.
It was 9:30 when he finally finished. Packing his bag and getting the next day's clothes ready, he walked into the shared bathroom to brush his teeth. After he finished with that task, he looked up to stare at his reflection.
The boy in front of him had long black hair that was messily combed to the side.
His chocolate brown eyes which were once filled with laughter and innocence were dead, void of emotions.
The boy in front of him was just the shell of the energetic, happy kid that he once was.
Cole felt tears prick in his eyes. He turned away from the mirror, refusing to see himself cry. He walked back into his room, closed the door, and collapsed on his bed, silent tears streaming down his face. He could feel the wads of cash stuffed in his mattress, serving as his only beacon of hope.
Hope that one day he would be free from this life.
Free to live on his own away from the wretched building he called home.
That one day he would be finally free.
A/N: Hii guys! You crying? Because I know that I was! Ok, before I continue: THERE IS ANOTHER CHAPTER TO THIS STORY!
I will try my best to upload it as soon as I am done with it! Promise! The next chapter will be centered around Cole and Jay's friendship.
ANyways, that's all I have for now. Part 2 will be uploaded soon! Feel free to comment but please, please, please use CLEAN and APPROPRIATE language! Thank you!
Until then remember God loves you, I love you, and JESUS IS LORD!
Have a wonderful day and see you next time!