||What Lies Under|| - Salvis

Chapter VI

         Phillip sighs, walking home from school and kicking at the pebbles against the pavement. Stupid suspension. My parents are gonna be pissed. The fight is all he could think about. He had been fine all school day until some new kid had started a random argument with him out in the courtyard. He hadn't even wanted to use physical fighting but he threw a punch, and he isn't known to not finish a fight once it's started. At least, he doesn't want to be known as that. Wasn't even my fucking fault, dumbass kid. His right eye throbs from when he was punched, his hands poorly bandaged from the nurse. The marks from his own punches show on his knuckles, and blood is smeared against the bandages from when he had hit the sidewalk harshly and landed on his arms and legs. He arrives at his home, sighing and slowly opening the door, his free hand gripping the strap of his backpack. "Hi ma, pa. I'm home." He says sheepishly, the door ajar as his mom rushes to him quickly.
He barely shuts the door behind him, not getting a step into the door before his mother has his arm, examining the cuts. "You are grounded young man, why would you get into a fight with a new kid?! Do you understand the reputation you have made for yourself? What if kids think you of you like one of those bad kids?!" She shrieks, tutting and pulling him into the house, pushing the door shut behind her as she drags Phillip to the bathroom.
Phillip sighs, not fighting it and not answering her as he sits on the toilet, the seat down. Mrs. Volker gets a first aid kid, tending to his injuries quickly. She had always been good at medical care, since Phillip and Travis both would come back to the house beaten up. Though Phillip not as serious, due to the kids being scared off by Travis, Travis himself was a more serious situation. He was constantly at the house, sitting on the counter as a kid and wincing at the hydrogen peroxide rubbing against the cuts gently. Mrs. Volker never had figured out why he has come home like that, assuming it was kids rather than his father and the pastor of Phelps ministry. Phillip is knocked out of his thoughts again once his mother feels by his eye, grimacing quickly and pushing Mrs. Volkers hand away. "Ma, that hurts." He mutters, frowning at her.
Mrs. Volker stands properly, bringing Phillip up with her and showing him in the mirror. Phillip glances at his reflection, surprised by how beaten up he looks, his frown deepening drastically. "You are only to go from and to school when you leave this house, for 3 days. You're lucky I'm being lenient on you." Mrs. Volker says sternly, her hands on Phillips shoulders, holding him in place to stare at himself.
Phillip nods slowly, making sure his mother sees it, and once he is released from her grip he walks off to his room with his bag. He shuts the door softly, so his mother does not hear him slam the door. He puts his backpack on the floor by the door, walking to his bed and kicking off his shoes. He faceplants into the bed, hugging his pillow and groaning quietly before lifting his head up. He watches his phone light up before grabbing it, putting it on the charger and checking it for any notifications. Just a software update. He keeps his phone on charge, sitting up and putting his phone through the update, and he slips back out of the bed. He walks to his door, slowly opening it to peek through it, making sure no one else is around. He sighs, slipping out of the room and keeping his steps light to walk to his parents room. He hears his moms humming from the kitchen downstairs, walking into his parents room and to the counter on his dads nightstand. Thank god he is at work. He opens the drawer to find a lighter and pack of cigarettes, grabbing the lighter and a single cigarette before shutting the drawer quickly. He rushes out of the room, back through the hallway and back to his room, shutting the door behind him and going to his window. He opens the window all the way, sitting on the floor right by it as he sparks the lighter. He watches the flame as he puts the cigarette in between his two fingers, just as his father had done when he was stressed, and he lights it. He takes a breath and puts his head half out the window, unsure about this and having second thoughts. Maybe it'll help with the stress though. It's what Mr. Volker had always done. He puts the cigarette in between his lips, breathing it in and feeling immediate regret sink in his stomach as he pulls the cigarette away. He coughs out the smoke rather than exhaling it, his lungs burning as he hacks. "Jesus fucking christ-!" He whisper shouts, broken words as he coughs.
He finally gets it out of his system, staring at the cigarette and putting it out on his nightstand, finally throwing it out the window by the pavement. He stands up, fixing his hair and wiping his mouth, occasionally coughing another small puff of smoke until he goes back to his bed. He hangs off the side of the bed to glance underneath it. He grabs a box, pulling it out and to the carpet floor beside his dresser, opening it up to grab a bag. He opens the bag, grabbing what looks to be a gummy bear before taking it down, silently thanking Larry for providing the box for his late birthday gift. "Much better." He whispers to himself, laughing at himself for being so stupid in the first place and deciding to try smoking.
Never again will he make the same mistake, he decided.

Word count: 1008 words