"Leone!" I was abruptly awakened by my father's loud voice coming from downstairs [https://img.wattpad.com/1787a2c8b209228d84987fbd04609c00c0da219b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5678444f526e6e334874706246673d3d2d313238353030333535332e313732376539353765666164366663323739313733303838383034392e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
"Leone!" I was abruptly awakened by my father's loud voice coming from downstairs.
My eyes quickly snapped open as if I had just been doused by a bucket of ice cold water. I immediately jolted up from my bed to blench down at my damp clothes that were weighing heavily over my body.
What the-what happened last night?
And why can't I barely remember anything!?
My memory was broken into small tiny fragments that were all too hard to piece together. I remember running off into the forest, being at the edge of a cliff, my intentions as to why I even got there in the first place, as well as the most confusing part which was seeing the boy next door!
I didn't hesitate to look around my room for just a moment, squinting at my bedside table to see the pill bottle in complete disarray. Tiny tablets were displaced everywhere, some even lying on my paneled floor.
Could I have just run off into the forest and returned shortly after it began to rain, deciding that maybe I was just too exhausted to change and settled for a sleep that was interrupted shortly after by a deep hallucinogenic nightmare?
"Leone!" My father roared out yet again. "If you don't get your ass down here, I'll come up there and snatch you out of bed myself!"
I silently cursed to myself as I hastily ran over to my dresser to find some clean clothes to change into. I didn't grow up with much, so I've had to settle for my parents' hand-me-downs for most of my life.
I decided on wearing a grey long-sleeve t-shirt that used to belong to my mother. The garment lifted right above my belly button and was fitted just enough for my short and tiny frame. I paired it with thick, oversized cargo pants that my father used to wear for his job as a contractor, offering me a large variety of pockets to store things in.
After getting dressed, I ran my fingers through my thick golden curls and quickly threw my backpack over my shoulder before rushing downstairs.
My blood froze at the sight of my father already sitting down at the dining table with tightened fists. "Who do you think you are making me wait for my food!?"
"I'm sorry! I'm-I'm making it now." My voice couldn't help but crack and stutter as I quickly rushed into the kitchen to prepare his food.
"You're sorry? Apologies don't make up wasted time, breakfast should've already been made a couple hours ago!" He exclaims before disappearing off into a series of harsh words and hurtful lecture.
I stayed silent as I used my cooking as a distraction. I was starting to get hungry myself so I settled on making eggs and toast.
My father furrowed his brows down the second I returned to the table with breakfast. "What's this all about?" He asks as I anxiously sat right next to him with my own plate.
"B-Breakfast." My voice shattered in fear as his face remained terrifyingly unsatisfied.
"I know what breakfast is, stop trying to sound smart!" He sharpened his tone before pounding both of his fists down the table. "Now tell me what's this all about!?" He loudly repeats while gesturing towards my plate.
My entire body flinched as I closed my eyes shut with a wavering breath. "I-I just thought we could eat breakfast together-" My lips began to quiver in fear as he remained silent for a moment.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" His chest begins to rise and fall as he eventually reaches over to my plate, lifting it up into the air just to toss it against the wall. "Answer me!" His yell intertwines with the sound of the shattering plate in the corner.
My mouth fell but there were no words coming out. My father's aggressions had always rendered me breathless, freezing me in place as if I was a glacier being formed by the years worth of fear and dubiety.
"I said answer me!" My father snapped me out of my shock by quickly getting up out of his seat to furiously rush towards me.
I unconsciously whimpered as I got up as well, his fury causing me to hobble against a corner out of fear of what he was about to do. "I'm sorry!" I cowered down into my usual fetal position as he latched his callused fingers onto my chin and aggressively squeezed.
"You wake up late, forget my breakfast, and now think you can eat with me!?" He let out a scoff of disbelief. "What have I done wrong to deserve such a worthless son? I should've forced your mother to get an abortion when I had the chance!"
My chest tightened as his cruel words hung in the air, a painful echo of disbelief. Tears began to well up in my eyes as his nails began to dig into my face.
"Tell me what I always tell you." He aggressively blurts out past my shattered silence.
"What?" I asked out in a confused and tearful plea.
"I said tell me the words I always tell you, now!" He raised his voice as father didn't like to repeat himself.
A bitter taste of the harsh truth stung sharply against my heart, as the words I was compelled to utter began to drown me. "I'm worthless..." I managed to say.
"And!?" His voice thundered, echoing around the room, the vibrations making me feel even smaller before his towering presence.
I swallowed, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. "I'll...I'll never amount to anything," I stuttered out. The words clung to my tongue, heavy and sour with regret, my voice hardly more than a shaky whisper.
"Keep going, don't stop now you piece of shit!" His command was punctuated by the loud thud of his fist pounding the wall next to me.
I gasped for breath, my body taut with tension. "N-No one will ever...love me." I added, the words breaking along with my spirit.
He throws my chin to the side before beginning to kick me in a cadence that matched with his words. "Remember. Your. Fucking. Place!"
I bursted into a fit of tearful yells as my body began to reverberate with stings and aches. "I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry!" I buried myself further into the fetal position in attempts to substitute the kicks made on my ribs and face for my arms and head.
He finally stops once the noises in the house were filled with nothing but my uncontrollable whimpers and cries. The hand in my hair was knotted as I knew I would be missing patches of hair after this. I could barely get myself up with my legs as my father casually returned to the dining table to eat as if nothing had ever happened.
"Clean that mess up before I make your life a living hell." He commands towards the shattered plate.
I quickly obliged as I could only think about one thing during the process.
My life is already a living hell.
The walk to school was tiresome on my legs. The appearance of my left leg was a combination of where tissue had been torn and regrown, embellished with dark crimson lumps starting from my calf and down to my foot as well as scratches that seemed to have never properly faded through time. It was more useful than my right leg however, where my bone had snapped and had left me with a dragging limp that I'll most likely have for the rest of my life.
Two years have passed since the crash and my life hasn't been the same ever since. It happened late at night. My father had just punched my mom in the stomach which had collided her body onto the floor. She fell right before me in a fit of sobs and figured she'd had enough. She didn't hesitate to snatch me up by the arm and guide the both of us out of the door. Both of my parents were in a fit of rage that were expressed through yells and curses that echoed all throughout the dark foggy neighborhood, filling my mind up with mixed emotions as we got into the car.
My mother drove away as I watched my father through the side-view mirror. He ran towards the middle of the street with his hands brokenly resting on the top of his head until he eventually vanished in the mist. My mother drove until we eventually entered a four way stop where we were met by a side collision.
All I remember was feeling the car flip over a few times before throwing all of my senses into a sudden blackout. I woke up finding out that I unfortunately made it instead of my mom. I was left with no mother, a hateful father, horribly mangled legs that took quite some time to heal, and the never ending cycle of twisted nightmares, immense blame, and self-hate.
I let the classic tunes emitting from my vintage Walkman distract me away from my thoughts. It had been my most prized possession for quite awhile as it's been the only thing that's made me feel like my mother was still with me. It used to be hers until she gave it to me along with her collection of quintessential music that perfectly encapsulates her time back in the day.
The entire morning flew by with a few boring classes and there I was, sitting across from my counselor at her office. Her office was extremely neat and tastefully decorated with pictures of her family as well as motivational posters that made the environment rather inviting. She'd also have relaxing background music that made my silence in response to her questions less awkward.
I can't quite pinpoint how long it's been since the first time I was summoned at her office. I never found out the reason as to why meeting with her became such a usual thing. I think it's safe to assume that it's because something was morbidly wrong with me; enough for her or another faculty member at school to notice that I needed someone to talk to or someone to regularly check up on me. Although it heightened my feelings of alienation I learned to like it over time.
"So Leone how do you feel about the new semester?" She asks with her head down while steadily keeping her eyes at me above the frame of her glasses.
"It's okay." I dryly responded with a volume that was audible enough to be heard right over the music. "I guess."
"I made sure to add some new and exciting classes for you to enjoy; how have you been liking art and theatre production so far?" She asked with a calm and patient tone.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"It's okay." My tone differed immensely from hers as it stayed cold and unyielding. "I get to draw a lot which is-you know, fun."
"How are things at home?" She does a tiny calming smile. "Have you been able to draw a lot there as well?"
Home?
It was hard to answer her question about home since it hasn't really felt like that in awhile.
"Not really." I swallowed and cleared my throat.
"Why is that?"
"I haven't really gotten any motivation to draw besides at school lately." I answer truthfully.
"Would you say that's a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Well-" Since everything had been bad for so long, it is difficult to determine whether something was good or not. "I don't know, all I ever draw are birds and trees and stuff."
"All of that is quite plentiful where we live." She nods.
"Yeah, but its getting kinda boring." I say admittedly. "Maybe with my new neighbors that could change but I don't know-would that be weird?"
"What would be weird?" She asks curiously.
"To draw them?" I sniff.
"No, of course not." Counselor Alina does a tiny head shake. "You're an artist Leone and although I can barely speak for someone that is as talented as you, I say there should be no boundary between you and your art. You are able to draw whatever you want to your heart's content."
"Oh." My eyes shifted down as I began to register her words into my mind.
"Tell me more about these new neighbors of yours, this is the first time you've brought them up." She leans back against her chair while maintaining her nonchalant body language in contrast to her prying questions. "Is there anything about them in particular that could potentially be used as inspiration for your art?"
My thought vanished me into a long awkward silence, eventually meeting her gaze once I decided to cave in and respond. "Well I had a dream about one of them last night." I choked once I realized I gotten way too honest.
Although Counselor Alina Gomez remained nice and understanding, I know I couldn't possibly tell her about the dark details of my twisted dream without having her go and tell my father about it.
"What was the dream about?"
I nervously adjusted my body on my seat and scratched my nose. "It was about the boy next door. He's my age I think. All I remember was seeing his eyes and thinking how pretty they were-how hazel they were. I've always wanted to learn how to draw eyes so maybe I'll use his for inspiration."
She tenderly smiled at that. "Have you and this boy ever spoken before?"
"No but I can't help but see him a lot since our windows directly face each other."
She nods repeatedly in careful thought. "Well the usual occurrences of having to see each other may have something to do with the dreams."
"Maybe." I shrugged since I didn't think about any other explanation to the dream besides the side effects caused by the multiple antidepressants I took last night.
"Can I ask something of you?" She tilts her head before continuing. "Why don't you try and speak to the boy?"
The thought of the action was heavy enough to render my heart to pound. "A-And say what?"
She purses her lips and looks up in thought. "You could talk about the weather, how he's liking the town so far, what he does in his spare time-anything really."
"Why would I do that?" I asked.
"Because believe it or not, although it can be easy to deter from interacting with other people out of genuine fear, or lack of patience, or loss of effort, something as small and simple as talking about the sun can make you indirectly connect yourself and the other person to that topic." She says with a growing smile. "How to know when a connection is made is when you for example, look up at the sun and along with the action comes with the thought of a person you have spoken to about it."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is don't be afraid to make connections. If it happens don't push people away because believe it or not experiences with other people-" She takes a humorous pause to raise her pointer finger up. "Good or bad, is an experience nonetheless. Experiences makes life worth living."
"Okay, but like does it have to be him of all people?" I nodded slowly as I knew everything she was saying would stick and linger on my skin for awhile like it usually does.
"No, but it doesn't hurt to try." She does a tiny laugh. "And who knows, he may have even dreamt about you as well."
I kept silent as the thought oddly turned my cheeks into a shade of warm dewy crimson.
I'd be absolutely delusional to believe anyone could ever dream about me. I was the stuff of bleak nightmares. Surely it was fine to fantasize though, right?
The day relentlessly persisted until, eventually, reaching a breaking point. Just before I could continue my walk home from school, a familiar group of boys cornered me near the back of the student parking lot; their laughter echoing through the empty space, while all I wanted to do was simply walk home.
"Limpy!" Eric, one of the boys, sneered while the others snickered in agreement.
"Did you honestly believe you could avoid us today? Did you think you could just simply go home by taking a different route like a little pussy?" Joshua, another boy, taunted, shoving me hard against the brick wall. "Surely, you must have known that it would never work, right? Besides, how could it when you walk the way you do-Limpy."
I kept my head down, unable to even look up at any of them as my vision had already begun to blur with tears. "He probably walks like that from all the nasty dick he likes to take up the ass-is that it, huh? Is that it, you fucking faggot!?" Hudson tightly coiled his fingers around my collar, his breath panting against my scrunched-up face.
"P-Please, I... I just want to go home," I fearfully stammered.
Hudson quickly brought his arms in a bent, mocking way, purposefully flicking his eyes up as he imitated me. "I-I-P-Please-A-Buh-Buh-shut the fuck up!" And with that, he immediately sent a punch right into my stomach, making me quickly thrash up in a silent scream out of pure agony.
Hudson let me go to pave the way for Joshua, who suddenly swung his right leg beneath mine, causing me to uncontrollably collide against the hard, rough ground with a cry. "Pathetic, aren't you even gonna fight back!?" He chuckled, and the rest eventually joined in with him as well. "I mean, it's practically your fault we're doing this to you. You make it too easy!" I barely had enough time to process the sharp pain in my stomach and feet as Joshua had already snatched my head up with my hair, sending a resounding blow right against my face-a punch that would surely leave an awful mark.
"Help! Somebody!" I tasted blood and called out for help as the third boy, Eric, came over to take his turn with me, mercilessly stomping on my leg that had already hurt the most. "Agh! Argh! Please-it hurts! It hurts!"
Feeling trapped and outnumbered, panic surged through me as they eventually picked me up, rushing to haul me towards a janitor's closet. The door creaked open, and before I could react, they tossed me inside with enough force to make me stumble right onto the floor. They slammed the door shut with a lock, walking away with humored whispers and devilish chuckles.
The darkness only emphasized the pain that enveloped me, and the silence was deafening. I felt a mixture of emotions overwhelm my senses. In that confined space, I questioned my worth, as usual, wondering what I had done to deserve such cruelty. I knew I would face even much more cruelty once I got home since my father didn't like having his dinner prepared late. It usually already takes a while to walk back home due to my dragging limp, but now I have to deal with having to walk home with the reverberating pain in my body.
I desperately looked out from the room and began to cry out. "Hello? Can anyone help me? Hello!? Please let me out of here! Please help me!" But there was no response.
After several failed attempts, I slouched against a wall of the janitor's closet and took the time I had to rest. It wasn't often I got the chance to sit back and relax in a place where it was quiet. Though I was locked behind the closet, I was given that little time to be spared from any cruel words, harsh beating, and formidable screaming.
Moments had passed, enough to feel like an eternity, before the janitor finally finds me and opens the door. "Hello? Is anyone in here?" The man called out, concern evident in his voice.
"Y-yes, p-please let me out!" I stammered, emerging from the closet with tears in my eyes.
"What happened, son?" He asked gently, noticing the distress written all over my face.
I didn't have enough time to respond as I quickly gathered up my belongings and rushed out of there.
As I trudged my hurried walk along the new path to get back home, the skies darkened, and raindrops began to fall, adding yet another layer of discomfort to my already battered and bruised state. The cold rain mingled with the tears on my cheeks, and I felt utterly vulnerable. My soaked clothes clung to my skin as with each step, my injured legs sent waves of pain to shoot through my body, intensifying the agony of the beating I had just endured. Every movement felt like a cruel reminder of the boys' merciless assault. The world around me blurred as raindrops splattered against my face, and the pain from my injured legs seemed to intensify in the chilling wetness. My legs wobbled beneath me, threatening to give way, but I pushed myself onward. The physical pain intertwined with the emotional turmoil within me as I knew my father's wrath awaited me at home.
Finally, I arrive at our small, rundown house, and as I step inside, the smell of alcohol immediately hits me. My father is already drunk and in a foul mood. "Argh-you little-Leone! Get your worthless ass right over here!"
My fists tightened, forming knots that gripped onto the fabric of my soaked clothes as I fearfully hobbled over to him. "Y-Yes-" I momentarily coughed to clear my stuffed throat. "Yes father?"
"Why are uhm-you late again, huh!?" He slurred, his words cutting through me like unpredictable knives.
"I-It wasn't on purpose." I say feebly, trying to keep my voice steady. "I tried to find a new route to get home, but those boys... T-They enjoy hurting my body."
The sound of a glass bottle being shattered immediately resounded, abruptly panicking my senses as father rushed towards me. "You useless piece of shit!" He shouts, his anger escalating with each passing moment as he held onto the top part of the bottle, pointing the jagged edges directly against my throat. "You're just like your mother, a liar!"
"I'm not lying!" I frantically cried out once more as the sharp edge of the bottle glistened in the light, reflecting my horrified expression back at me.
His alcohol-ridden breath panned right over my face, his eyes observing my genuine fear as if he was entertained by it. "You better not because when you breathe, it's because I give you air. When you wake up in the morning, it's because I've yet to take your life—I give you life, you understand me?" I shakily nod, whimpering as the edge began to slowly press against my neck. "It is with my blessing that you're even standing here like the goddamn sissy that you are! You come home late one more time, and I'll beat you till your dead, understood?"
"Yes father." And with that, he eventually retracts the sharp razor edge from my throat, letting me quickly retreat to the kitchen in a fit of fearful sobs.
I was hoping to appease him by preparing a good hearty dinner. Although my entire body felt like it was giving up, I still managed to cook him a recipe my mother had taught me, which was a rich tomato soup. The pain throbbing in my legs caused me to wobble as I set the plate before him.
He glares at the food with disdain as I stand in the corner with my hands behind my back. "This is what you call a meal? I don't want this garbage! Where's the meat!?" He yells out and I flinch every time.
My heart immediately began to pound out of fear once more. "I'm sorry father, would you like for me to cook you something else?" I suggest faintly, my voice barely above a whisper.
His fists clenched tightly as he remained terrifyingly silent for just a moment, his chest beginning to rise and fall with palpable fury. Suddenly, he rushed over to me and gripped my bruised arm, causing me to let out an uncontrollable yell as he opened the door to the backyard and tossed me out into the pouring rain. "You wanna act tough by not following the rules of this house!? Then you-mmph-then you get thrown out of it, you goddamn faggot!" He slurred, rapidly slamming the door shut before I could even try and desperately come back inside.
"No! N-No! No! Please! I'm sorry-I'll cook something else-I'll do anything you want, please father!" I sobbed and yelled throughout the perilous rain emitting all around me. "Please let me back inside! I'm sorry!" My heart fell as he locked the door and carelessly turned his back on me.
Booming thunder struck from above as I had no other choice but to act fast, rushing right through the rain to retreat towards the dusty garage out in the backyard. As if shackled by chains, I let myself fall lifelessly onto the cold damp ground, my aching body shivering in my own puddle of salty tears and merciless rainfall.
In the darkness, where spiders and rats surely lingered, I brokenly whispered to myself, "I miss you, mother." Within hours of soul-crushing silence as well as a lacking glimmer of hope, I eventually drifted off into a restless slumber.
" Within hours of soul-crushing silence as well as a lacking glimmer of hope, I eventually drifted off into a restless slumber [https://img.wattpad.com/429645d60cf042f1975201c2811f0095331b7f98/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4d616a444b464a455058516a76773d3d2d313238353030333535332e313732653538346531333036383239363332313132343832313535352e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]