All the dark places in me.

Chapter 2 Sam Roland

The best day of my life was when my
mother re-married, she had been alone for so long after my dad died that I was starting to think it was just her and I vs the world. But then she met Max, a guy with a stable job and a great lifestyle, he swept my mother and I off our feet. He was loving to my mother and kind to me, that was all my mother needed to say yes when he proposed.

The months that led up to the wedding were joyful, mum and I moved into Max's big five bed room house and spent the summer decorating my room with all the things my 9 year old mind could come up with. Max and I played football while mum cooked tea, it was perfect, life was perfect.

The wedding was truly one to remember, Max had gone all out on this one. They got married in a little church in Oxford, it was lovely, people loved it and those who didn't were just jealous of our happy little world we'd created. The reception was outstanding, there were pieces of white fabric that hung from the ceiling of the hotel and the dance floor was alight with millions of fairy lights my mother had picked out. Everybody danced and laughed and smiled, the room was glowing with happiness and so was everyone in it.

Max moved me out of my tiny crappy school and sent me to private school, where I excelled in my learning. Mum got a job down at the local newspaper company and all was going well in life till one night.

It was late and I had supposed to have been in bed hours ago but I couldn't sleep. I heard raised voices down stairs and wanted to know what was going on, so I tip toed my way out of my room and down the stairs to the sitting room, where I hid behind the door, sneaking glances through the cracks. "I know you slept with Harry," Max's shouted, his face red "I didn't, I've always been loyal to you," my mum cried, her face stained with tears, I froze. "Stop lying to me Julie," Max's bellowed, he clenched his fist; I tensed "I'm not lying..." He back handed my mother right across the face, me being my strong, unbeaten 10 year old self, ran to her aid. "Leave her alone!" I pushed into Max's, knocking him into the mantel piece, my mum shouted for me to go back upstairs but I refused. "You little shit," hissed Max, whipping the blood off his hands, he punched me right in the jaw, my mum screamed, rattling my head. I fell to the floor while he repeatedly kicked me in the stomach meanwhile my mother kept trying to bargain with him to stop, as I just laid there like the weak little bastard I was.

This happened every night for months, Max's would shout, mum would cry, I'd be beaten. It was all starting to get too much for me because at the end of the day who was I to tell who could help me? A rich kid being beaten wasn't the best sympathy grabber. I could tell my mum had had enough too, see looked mentally and physically drained, she looked fake and too happy around other people and I could tell she was starting to break down and I couldn't bear to watch it.

One morning I was woken up by a gush of cold water on my head "where is she!" Max snarled "what?" I asked confused, Max's stood with a glass in his hand "your mother!" He screeched.

I felt my heart break and turn black as I realised she'd left me with him, our little team on two was now a broken half of one. Max threw the glass to the floor with a smash. He came at me, eyes blazing and fist ready, I didn't move or try to stop him as I thought if I were lucky he might kill me then so I wouldn't be left with him, but there is no God. He left me bloody and beaten and stormed out the room, my blood on his hands. My Mum was once my hero and now she was the selfish bitch that left me with her troubles.

This is the second chapter to my original story thank you for reading! I post a chapter every month so the next one will be out in March.