𝔻𝕚𝕣𝕥 𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕪 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕥 (ᴛᴏᴋʏᴏ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀꜱ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) [HIATUS]

Chapter 6

Authors note: I do not own the original story line or characters, just my added plot line.

(Y/n)'s POV

2003

"Get up!" The voice shouted over and over again. Tears fell from my beaten face as I cower in the fetal position, trying to protect my face from anymore damage. In return, my stomach and back were being kicked harshly, I kept coughing, each blow to my stomach was more intense than the last.

"Common loser, you picked this so why don't you finish it?" The boy above me stopped for a moment to bend down, taking a fistfull of my hair and pulling me up by it. The tingling pain made me gasp, my face once again fully exposed. "Aw look at that, you've been crying."

"Know your place before speaking to us again, I'll cave your face in next time." Another boy spoke, my head finally being let go, my body falling back onto the pavement. The sound of their footsteps and laughs became further and further away before I dared to look up. I broke down fully at that point, blood and tears mixing on my face and the ground below.

The few kids that had stayed to watch what was going on slowly started to go away by this time as well. Nobody dared to check up on me and god was it embarassing how everything went down. I wish they'd done this behind the school or something, when it was in public it was so much worse. After I cried out my pain and emotions I finally stood up in the empty park, the sun had been setting for awhile now and it was far past the time I'd usually be home. I pulled out my phone to check the time, 20 o'clock, my mom would be worried sick, especially from the 5 missed calls I had recieved from her.

I snatched up my school bag that had been thrown during the beating, gathering up the contents that thankfully didn't fly away or get taken. With my stuff and my emotions gathered I finally made my way home. The cold breeze made me shiver, the urge to lay in bed and just rest overwhelmed my being. But I knew better than to think I'd get away with that so simply. The 30 minute walk back home felt like it lasted so much longer as my thoughts wandered to what my dad would say to me. I had to clean myself up before seeing my mother, maybe waiting until the next day when the swelling when down would be better.

I brought out my key to unlock the door, the lights were mostly off excluding the dim kitchen light and the light coming from my parent's room from under the closed door. I carefully and quietly closed the door, taking off my shoes and placing them next to the rest. I snuck into my room, putting my belongings down on my chair with an audible sigh. I could hear my parents arguing again, my mom pleading for my dad to stop yelling at her. My body shook, I hated him. He never physically abused us but the way he treated us was horrible. The only reason my mom stayed with him was because she needed the help and income. As much as I wish I could, I couldn't support my family on my own.

My mother was disabled, she was confined to a wheelchair for awhile now after a botched surgery to fix her ankle. She was now unable to work, cook, clean, or anything she used to do. Those duties were put onto me now, my siblings were only in 3rd grade, I couldn't put the burden on them. I took that responsibility as best as I could while we still all depended on my dad. No matter how put together he seemed on the outside, he was a cruel and harsh man. He was an office worker, head of his department and had been for years. He made enough money to support our family but only to guilt us into thinking it was a burden to him. He didn't want to support us but he and my mom had married and he didn't want to carry the dishonnor and embarassment of divorcing his wife.

So he took it out on us. He and my mom would get into arguments almost every day, mostly at night when my siblings were asleep. But I couldn't block out the screaming and crying. As was happening right now. I typed out my arrival to my mom, my finger hovering over the send button, I didn't want to cause more issues tonight until I heard them stop yelling at each other. So I rested my phone down as I changed into my night clothes, I snuck into the bathroom and closed the door. I dug under the sink in the cabinet to pull out the first aid kit, running the water and gently cleaning up my wounds and patching them up. I heard the door to my parent's room open and shut, the arguing finally stopped. But as I listened closer, footsteps were approaching the bathroom.