His face burned and throbbed where the jagged edge of a liquor bottle had cut into him then sliced down his face almost catching his eye in the process. He left his father lying a pool of blood after he had managed to fight the bottle out of his hand and then wrestle him down to the floor and BEAT him with his fists till he wasn’t moving anymore. Maybe he was dead, maybe he wasn’t, but one thing for certain he wouldn’t stay there to find out. Thankfully his little brother and sister were not there to be a part of or witness what had happened. They were staying the night at a relative's house. He’d come back for them when he knew it was safe to return.
He staggered clumsily out of the house with his hand pressed to his face where the gash was bleeding out through the cracks of his fingers. He was already beginning to feel weak from the loss of blood and the excruciating pain that wracked through his body where he had been beaten repeatedly by a metal rode. He could barely run but he hobbled along at a fast pace, stumbling a few times till he managed to make it to the shelter of the woods. He wasn’t paying much attention when suddenly he SLAMMED into something in the dark. “Fuck!” He cried out, as he was thrown backward. He landed flat on his back, coughing and sputtering as the breath was knocked out of him. Afterward, he lay there dazed and confused, that was until the tears finally came and he lay there sobbing uncontrollably on the ground unaware that he wasn’t alone.
@askpeterpan | au flashback
