Random oneshots! (requests open)

The Room

(In Connor’s pov, no ship, Warning: neglect, mental abuse, slight verbal abuse, physical abuse)

Not again. I can’t go through with this. I don’t want my parents to know. What are they gonna say? Are they gonna yell? I know that they won’t do anything for me. That is unless someone else is there. They always check their health first before mine. Most of the time they barely even set an appointment for me. The last time I got hurt and told them, they took most of my clothes. Now I’m stuck with these black boxers, shorts and this light blue hoodie. “Get your ass out here!” Slowly limping out of my room to the living room. To see my parents there. Their hateful stares. Limping into the living room. I was gonna sit down since I was in pain but Father didn’t like that. “Stand up.” Now I have to stand, I’m already in enough trouble then I already am. We sat there in silence for a while. Them staring me down.

My Father started to speak. Telling me that I should have thought about them. How could I have thought of that if I’m in pain? It hurts to walk. To run. Even to stand. I wasn’t focused on him or his words, only pain. Heard a few words from my Mother. “Brat! Listen to us!” The yell startled me out of my thoughts. Looking up at them, seeing the hate and anger written on their faces. I gulped down a lump that was in my throat. My Father got up and stormed to me. My Mother just sat there scrolling through her phone. My Father grabbed my arm and dragged me. Seeing that he’s heading to the room. No, not the room. “Dad! P-Please!” I started to beg to not be in that room. Tried to free myself from his grip. Tried slowing him down. Nothing worked. It’s too late. He opened the door and threw me in. “I’ll come back in the morning to see if you learned your lesson.” He slammed the door shut and locked it. Crawled to the door and banged on it.

“Mom! Dad! Please!” Repeating these words for hours, screaming them even. My voice was raw. I gave up. Crawled around to find a wall. It was cold and damp. Like water was in here. It’s dark too. No light switch. No nothing. No food. No blanket. I’m stuck here until morning. Curling into myself for warmth. I was in a corner. My vision began to fade. Going all blurry. Soon it was completely dark. I didn’t stay asleep long. Hearing footsteps at the door. Immediately crawling to the door, banging on it. Asking to be let out, screaming even. But the person walked away. I gave up on screaming since they walked away. Scooting back to the corner I was at, huddling myself. Fell asleep again. Few hours later, I heard footsteps again. The door opened. Standing up and limping over there. I was tempted to run out. But I didn't dare to.

“Have you learned your lesson?” What lesson was there to learn? I just want out of this room. “Well?” Slowly looking up at my Father. He still had that hate in his eyes. “Y-Yes.” Cursed at myself for stuttering. Hearing a sigh from him. Taking me out of the room, and picking me up. We lift the house to the car. Placing me in the front seat. Getting in the drivers side. Starts to leave. Where are we going? Where’s Mother? We’re now in Rochester. Near a hospital. He parked the car near the entrance and picked me up again. Went inside and saw a doctor. Confirmed that I had a sprained ankle. Gave me crutches and left. Now in the car again. Driving home. Still being carried. Mother was inside with a bag. A bag of clothes. “We saw your grades.” What about my grades?

“We decided to get you some clothes and get your ankle checked.” So all because I got good grades, they care? They are showing kindness. Give me clothes, new clothes. Clothes in my size. They must care, right? They wouldn’t have done this if they didn’t care. Right?

Total of words 720, this is pt.2 of Biking - Alaphi