The Selfless and the Brave

I got home and slipped through the door quietly. I was late. And what was worse, I had skipped the second half of the school day. This couldn't end well. I pushed off my Abnegation gray slippers and lined them up neatly beside my parents'. I began sneaking up the stairs when about halfway up I heard my father.

"Alex? Is that you?"

I ignored him and continued up the stairs.

"ALEX!"

I ran.

I ran up the stairs and into my room. I knew I was in for it. I was done for. I threw my bag onto my simple bed in my simple room and began pacing. I paced and paced, quickly and frantically, pulling at my hair. I did not know what to do. I heard my father begin climbing the stairs, grumbling, and I had no plan. I couldn't escape. I was going to get the beating I deserved. Again.

"ALEX!" he shouted again when he had reached the top of the stairs. I was panicking. My breath was getting faster and faster and I couldn't help but feel light headed.

My door flew open.

I didn't make a sound.

I never do.

Blow after blow, kick after kick, my mother screeching as my father beat me endlessly. And I didn't make a sound. My mother yelling about how selfish I was, how I had skipped school when it was so graciously provided, how I'm headed down the same road as my brother.

That hurt more than any time my father laid his hand on me.

Then it stopped. He stopped. I tried to get up but I was hurting everywhere. There were new bruises forming on top of old ones, new scrapes. I deserved it. I deserved all of it.

But he wasn't done. He came back. He came back with that godforsaken whip.

I tried to get away. I forced myself up, stumbling, but I had nowhere to go. As my father advanced on me with that whip in his hands, I walked backwards, with wild scared eyes, trying to avoid him until my back hit the wall. I closed my eyes and bent my head, trying not to let the tears escape.

"Turn around, boy!" my father shouted.

And I did.

"Take off your shirt!"

And I did.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

It went on for what seemed like forever.

And I never made a sound.

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I watched as my father left my room. Finally. He shut the door behind him. I didn't move. I didn't move from the corner in which I was curled up against. I could feel everything. I could feel all the hurt everywhere. I could feel the blood slowly dripping down my back. But I didn't get up. I didn't get up from my fetal position to clean my pathetic self up. I did not tend to my wounds.

I just sat there.

In pain.

Tap tap tap.

What the-

Tap tap tap.

I didn't bother to see what the hell was making that noise against my window. It was probably a branch. I didn't want to move from where I was. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't want to live.

Tap tap tap.

"Alex. C'mon man let me in it's cold as balls out here."

It took a while for the words to make themselves to my brain. When they did though, I jolted into action. Who the hell-? I thought. Painfully, I turned towards the window.

Jack.

It was Jack.

And from the look on his face, I bet he had seen everything.

Notes

So uh...

*awkward clearing of the throat*

Hi?

I AM FULLY PREPARED FOR THE WRATH YOU ALL HAVE FOR ME FOR NOT UPDATING IN HALF A DAMN YEAR.

-Jagk Skellington