Saved Love

II

A/N: warning depiction of abuse, blood and depression.

10:23pm

in a box type room where only a small square window illuminates the dreariness and darkness that covers the entire space, you can hear sobs of a man - or what was left of a man. muren slowly dips his hand on a small basin of water to wash off his tear stained face. looking at his reflection, he never knew how could he survive his day after day of beatings from his step father. his throbbing lip, he saw a cut that might swell for a couple of days and his darkened collar bone that he suspected was broken due to the flat iron flung to him a couple of days ago. he smirked to himself saying how pathetic could he possibly be to still be in this house and give them all they demand.

his mom was far from what he remembered when his real father was alive. shes so bubbly and kind. but all of that gone when his father died of a car crash along the way going to his companys camp 10 years ago. hes employed as the driver of a small company and he was scheduled to pick the employees up that day. it was a freak accident they say but he suspected otherwise. but what could he do? hes just a kid that time and he got no evidence in his suspicions and he might be wrong about it. his mom got depressed and was succumbed by it. along came this bastard he call now stepfather who introduced drugs and alcohol to his sweet mother to 'escape' her so called reality.

finishing up, he wore a clean tshirt and boxers to have a good night sleep. he only got 4 hours to rest. he needs to be up before the sun rises to prepare meals for his so called parents to last until lunch. by 9 am, he needs to go to his part time job in a convenience store near a gas station and by 2 pm to a club as a waiter a couple of blocks down the store. this rest is rewarding, hoping he could have it straight without nightmares or a kick from his step father.

around 4 am, he was awaken by sudden cramps on his lower abdomen.

"oh yeah, i almost forgot. its that time of the month. damn! i hope i still got some left in the cupboard." he muttered to himself clutching his stomach. its really a bitch during the first and second day.

"Urgh! Damn! Why me?" he opened the packet and silently hoped that this will pass on without them finding out otherwise its another round of beating and verbal abuse to his core.

he went downstairs to prepare the meals and hopefully storm out of the house without them finding him. but really, luck was not his friend at all. around 30 minutes in, down came the couple with his mom wrapped around the bastards waist and neck apparently still high on whatever.

"oh, hi there shweetie pie. howsh my baby boy?" my mom approached me and caressed my face. any other day, this would be nice but on how she sluggishly say it with her just-fucked hair and foul breath, its just revolting. i just replied a smile to her not trusting my voice. i may unknowingly say something that may trigger them. i dont want additional bruises on my face, no thank you.

that bastard of a step father of mine sat down and raised his foot on the table and scratch something i dont care about where. i was leaning on the table placing their meal when my mom suddenly squealed on top of her lungs.

"EEEEEWWW... WHAT THE HELL IS THAT MUREN!"

"what the hell! every fuckin month! you freak!" that bastard yelled on me landing a couple of punches on my stomach. "what kind of a friggin creature are you fag! bleeding every month!" and a knee on my gut and another side punch on my face.

"wait, wait." my mom suddenly swat her husbands arm. "bleeding every month? thats like me!"

'please, no, no, no. dont let her know!' i screamed inside my head.

"youre a friggin woman?!" he faced me disgusted. i never got the reflex to counter what he did next to me. he pulled my pants down together with my boxers. i fell down from the force he exerted and i cupped my nakedness. "but ya got a dick! damn! FREAK!"

punch after punch and kicks to my side and another round on my gut and head. i passed out who knows how long.

maybe hours later, i got the feeling of being dragged and the scent of my room engulfs me. my pants and boxers were still down. they never really cared. i felt tears slid down my face as i rolled over to my side when i heard the door of my room clicked shut.

there goes another day of work and pay slide out of my hands because of their doing. why am i still here? somebody please help! i pleaded sobbing to myself. pitying myself. well, this darkness really is comforting. i want to be swallowed by it and just be done.

suddenly my door cracked open but what i heard next woke me up. i fixed myself up. grabbed my jacket and grabbed my secret stash of cash that i suspect could make me live for a couple of days. i peek through the door hoping no one would catch me.

i refuse to be sold out like a common piece of meat. i refuse to be treated as such. im not a thing! im not someones possession that could be sold! im human dammit!!! they knew! they knew! they want to sell me out to someone to be a baby maker! im scared! help! help me!

as soon as i got out of the apartment. i never looked back. i dont want to return to that hellhole i once called home. i ran and ran. through the streets. through the throng of strangers until my chest burns.

dazed, i found myself in a park. im tired. im hungry. my bodys killing me. my head is throbbing badly. my lower abdomen is cramping. im so done.

i felt someone reached out to me and turned me to face that someone.

"excuse me," he said with a deep voice.

hes so pretty. but. why is he crying? is he hurt? like me?

suddenly i felt the most warmest hug i ever felt in my entire life. i felt secured. i felt safe. im tired. please...

"h-help m-e..."