Reverse Rivalry

Monsters Don't Hide Under Beds

Warning: domestic abuse, child abuse and violence. Please skip this chapter if it makes you uncomfortable!

Jale Kierson realized that monsters did exist at a very young age. They weren't the ones that hid under beds or stashed away in a closet ready to scare the innocent soul out of a child. Jale had a cruel awakening at the age of four when he witnessed a glass cracking against his mother's skull.

No matter how young he was and unable to tie his shoelaces, Jale understood his mother's cries and he understood his father's actions. He didn't need the intelligence of an adult to realize his father was a common abusive asshole.

That was the first instance he witnessed and it just got worse from there on out. His mother would look his father in the face with blood streaming down her cheek from the heaviest backhand he had ever seen and scream,

"Are you satisfied now? Does hitting your wife quell that fucked up need to feel powerful, you pathetic-,"

Another hit had her swallowing her words with sobs and Jale could only watch.

"Still got a mouth on you, continue, speak back to me you bitch,"

This was a scene that shouldn't have ever entered his comic book but he flipped the pages by wanting to hug his mother to sleep one night because he was scared of the dark.

He was scared monsters would crawl from under his bed and take him but that night, Jale became scared shitless of his father instead of those non existent monsters.

He had cried out loud dropping his teddy bear to the ground and alerting the two adults that he was there, watching it all unfold, fucking up his life for good. His mother had stood looking at him from her position. Her hair was messy and her beautiful face was just a disgrace. Her lips were bleeding badly and her eyes were swollen. Jale cried harder for his mother. It took everything in him not to pass out from the scene.

He was devastated but no one came to soothe the crying child. Instead, his father walked towards him and dragged the door open to stare down at him menacingly. The gentle father he knew was void at that moment. Jale couldn't see past his tears so he couldn't see the demonic stare that was aimed downward at him. He innocently reached for his father's leg and hugged it.

"Why are you 'hitting mama? Stop!"

"Go back to your room," His father said shoving him off his leg and slamming the door shut in his face.

"ick," came a cry as more tears went cascaded down his chubby face. He had fallen to the ground from his father's push. He got back up and pounded on the door while crying his mother's name.

"Jale, Jale, please go back to bed. Mama is alright so please,"

" cale," came a small baby cry down the hall. Jale stopped his banging and turned to see his little sister waddling towards them with sleepy eyes.

She tripped on her way but she got back up and laughed.

"'cale," She squealed and Jale swore then and there his entire being broke. This was all too much for a four-year-old to see, internalize and rationalize. It made no sense to him.

He went towards his sister and picked her up. She laughed while wrapping her small self around his body. She was a bit too big for small Jale but he tried his best to carry her.

Crashes went on, wails and screams.

"Get off me! Get the-,"

"Babe, I love you, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. Please. If you don't talk back then I won't hit you. This is all your fault!"