Finally the dull house came into view, and he gave a wary sigh of relief, but the all to real prospect of still being beaten was frightening him.
Without the meth, or money, he was going to be gravely punished, sure he'd thought about running away multiple times, but in this weather he'd freeze and what would become of his mother? If he left, it may destroy her, and the last thing he wanted was for her death to be reported in the local papers because of his absence.
As long as she lived, he wasn't leaving.
The boy placed his former pure hands on the handle, twisting it enough to ease it open, all eyes set on Andy as he collapsed inside.
A horrified shriek resonated through the living room, his mother offcourse, she rushed to his side arms held out over his shaking body unsure of what to do.
"Fuck, what'd your son do now?!" Andy's father demanded harshly.
Many of his fathers friends, well, druggy's, had gathered together and were sitting around the living room smoking unthinkable things, they must've visited once hearing he'd sent Andy out for more. He could hear the other men grumbling in disapproval when they spotted him in such a weakened state, it was sickening how ritious the group was.
"He is your son as-well Ian!" his mother exclaimed, her tone not as dominating as she'd planned it to be.
"Does he have the meth?" the man snorted, eyes greedy and wanting.
Katherine leaned lower down to her son, tears forming in her desperate eyes, voice low so the others couldn't hear.
"Sweetheart?" she whimpered, a questioning plea.
Andy's head lifted, blood parting from his lips to the floor, he shook his head. At that moment his father lifted from his seating, rage blazing in his glazed eyes.
The boy braced himself, unsure that he'd survive whatever attack his father was planning to inflict on him. He wanted to lift and fight back, but his scissors had been left at Thomas's house, and his muscles weren't strong enough to defend.
Suddenly a slim body engulfed his, protecting his form from the brutal assault. Andy could feel his mother being forced up against him as she was coarsely throttled. She was gasping and wheezing, digging her nails hopelessly into her husbands bulky hands.
"Ian, thats enough" a thin, despondent looking women from the group held out her quivering arm.
Said man turned to the women, releasing his wife like a rag-doll and shrugged, paying no heed to her mild sobbing. Andy lurched forward, arm stinging, and hugged his mother, observing the finger marks meld into her pale skin.
"I brought some just incase he didn't manage" the women explained holding up the large packet.
"You came prepared" Ian laughed heartily, leaving Andy and his mother in a pool of his sons blood.
That night Andy had persuaded his demoralized mother to come down to his cellar room, he'd attempted talking to her about leaving the man, as there was no possible hope of retrieving the kind, loving side of him they'd lived their life with years back. But as usual, she refused, insisting that he was trying to give up, and that they should've expected the brutal attacks, as if it were their fault they'd been abused.
She just didn't want to let go.
"How did you get your injury?" she asked once dismissing the previous conversation.
"Guess" he replied, glaring out the window.
Katherine sighed, dispirited, she followed his gaze, watching the snow pile on his floor. Rubbing her neck guiltily she walked over sitting next to her son on his bed, giving him a comforting squeeze on the arm.
