Breaking point (F.A.C.E) [Under Editing]

CH 22: Not The Same (edited)

Alfred could not think, move, or speak. He was frozen, stuck in his thoughts.

His heart hammered against his chest, his eyes were swollen and pink from all his crying. His throat was raw and lips were dry. He couldn't believe it.

Memories of his actual father ran through his mind he remembered all the yelling and neglect, and the faint scar on his brother's skin that would forever be imprinted on him reminded him that a person could just be that cruel.

His father, the man of his nightmares.

He would once again live with him, and his brother would finally understand why he was so afraid.

Matthew stayed close to his brother, he had never seen Alfred so terrified before. And when Alfred trembled Matthew would wrap his arms around him and hug him until he calmed down. "Alfred, Matthew," Francis spoke.

The tiny family sat in the living room waiting for Arthur to arrive, he needed to calm himself down and decided to just wash his face and freshen up. "Papa..." Matthew whimpered when Alfred didn't respond back as he would always do.

"Everything is going to be okay, I promise," Francis reassured, and at that Alfred snapped. "How can you say that? Papa we're going to be taken away from you! How can you be so calm?" he asked furiously. "Alfred please." Francis started. "No! Papa, we both like it here, can't we just not go? We can move away and hide!" he suggested.

Francis sighed. "As much as I'd like that, I'm afraid we would go to jail if we did that." Alfred slumped his shoulders. "But...why?" he dropped his gaze, ignoring his brother's attempt to comfort him. A sudden question popped into his mind. A question that brought him pain, what exactly was the cause of his mother's death?

He remembered how aggressive his father was up to the point where he hit her, and then he hit Alfred too once. And after he hurt Matthew his mother finally had enough. She yelled and screamed at him and finally, she left him and kicked him out of their house.

And then it happened, there was a knock at their door, and all hell broke loose. Men charged inside breaking everything, Alfred's mother yelled at him to run and get Matthew who slept upstairs. And that was the last time he saw her with her final plead escaping her final breath.

The ambush was no coincidence, realization soon settled itself on Alfred. He gasped, his heart dropped. It was his father that caused all of it, and now Alfred understood. Because his mother kicked him out he got even more aggressive, got angry, got murderous. And he was not going to have it.

But then another question popped into his mind, what would happen to his new family if he and his brother refused to leave? Would they suffer too? Would they....be killed too?

A shudder ran up his spine. "Alfred, are you okay?" Matthew asked anxiously. "...yes." He answered in a monotone voice, he knew what he had to do and say. Just thinking about it was enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away not wanting to worry his brother anymore.

As soon as Arthur returned he kneeled in front of the couch that his sons were sitting on and stared at them. "Alfred." He stared into Alfred's dull blue eyes. "Tell me about your father, and how you ended up at that place." He demanded in a pleading tone, this was it. For both of his fathers' safety, Alfred knew what he had to say. "We were kidnapped after my mom died, my dad was knocked out." He lied smoothly, and then. Arthur broke.

He looked down and grasped onto both his son's hands. "We have three hours. That's all." To believe that just yesterday they were having a family meal together, and now they were saying goodbye. The boys' room was now bare and empty, a single suitcase held all their belongings. "Daddy do we have to go?" Matthew whimpered.