Yoooooooo I'm back and ready for more! Angst to comfort with not an ass Dream!
Tw: abused tommy, asshole parent, swearing, violence, abuse
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(Tommy's pov)
I staggered home from school sore and beaten, mentally and physically exhausted. I've been bullied by a few kids in my class for years, that along with the beatings I get if I so much as breath too hard by my dad, can take a tole on your mental and physical health.
I wanted to go home and go to sleep but that wasn't going to happen. My dad was probably coming home from the pub right now, it seems weird, that my dad would go to the pub in the middle of the day but he does.
I limped into the house, the ugly house. I had to pay for bills, repairs, and food I didn't have much left to make the house look actually presentable. I opened the fridge. The empty goddamn fridge. My dad won't let me buy enough food to fill the fridge with more than eggs, milk, and beer, if I get anything more than that my dad freaks out. He says I'm spending too much money and then continues to buy a hundred euros worth of beer.
I banged my head up against the closed fridge door, my eyes close as I tried to desperately keep in the tears that kept threatening to pour out. I don't know why this was so much for me, I deal with it everyday, I should be immune by now.
But is still hurts, every punch, every kick, every word, it all hurts. The pain never goes away no matter if I'm alone, if it's silent, if I'm streaming, the words will always be there.
God the words, it felt like every hateful word that has ever existed has been engraved into my mind.
Useless
a disgrace
Worthless
Disappointment
Idiot
Ignorant
Ass
Evil money-spending hoe
Horrid
Appalling dumbass
So many words, so much hate.
I looked up, half wondering why my dad wasn't here, half wanting to look for food, as my eyes scanned the filthy kitchen I saw a little white piece of paper.
Tom,
Im at my job today, actually
working to get money, unlike
you who just leaches off of my
hard work.
-your father (unfortunately)
I growled at the little piece of paper and crumpled it up. Me leaching off of him? If I had a choice I would never be in the same building as him!
Another part of me wanted to cry of relief, my father wouldn't be here for hours! Maybe I can call one of my friends, play Minecraft with them and shit!
I sprinted up the stairs, two steps at a time, anxious to see, or hear I guess, a person who doesn't completely despise me. Finding someone who doesn't hate me is hard in real life, but on the internet people accepted me.
And people wonder why I'm always on my phone.
I reached my room and went immediately to my computer, punching in the password I went into Minecraft, then the dream smp.
I checked the players online and saw that it was dream, I grinned. Despite the role he plays for the smp he was a great friend, it was always enjoyable talking to him.
