Light Behind The Dark

28

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Chris entered the house, oblivious to what was waiting for him inside. He entered the house, to notice that it was eerily silent, which was good since it means that his father is not home. The day was turning out to be good and Chris was happy, even if it was temporary.

But who knew it would last only for a second?

"Boy, come in here." His father's cruel voice called out from the small kitchen. Chris was shocked hearing him pierce the silence with his rough tone. He gulped and started heading towards the kitchen.

Once he stood in the entrance, he noticed his father near the stove, holding a steel spatula to the fire. And looking at it, Chris knew what was coming. His eyes widened and he took a step back, turning around to lock himself up in his room when his father stopped him dead in his tracks.

"You better stop before I chase you, you useless brat." He said and Chris stopped as tears sprung in his eyes. His father is way stronger than Chris. He's way heftier.

"The police came home today. Something about you at school and were asking how you behaved at home." His voice sounded closer to Chris with every word. Chris had a sudden urge to puke but he held himself. His fists tightly closed and his sight turned blurry.

"I told you before, not to complain about what happens at home and you did just that." His father sneered.

"I d-didn't tell anyone." Chris choked out and turned to face his dad who gave him a shocked look before it turned into anger. This was the first time Chris has spoken to his dad in over a year.

"Don't speak to me like that you ungrateful punk." And then he raised the spatula with its end red with heat and menacingly stepped forward as Chris took a step back, shaking his head.

"You need to learn a lesson boy. You need to know what will happen if you open your mouth again." And he bought the spatula to make contact with Chris's right arm, right above his elbow, making him let out a painful cry. And then Chris ran to the bathroom and locked himself in it. He turned the tap on and poured the cool water over his now burned skin.

The burn was as big as his finger. It was a deep red color and blood would have come out if the spatula rested there a second longer. The skin was already bubbling up and Chris let out another cry as he pressed his finger gently on it. Tears streamed down Chris's face. Not because of the pain. But because of how his day was going great but at the end, it had to be ruined.

Maybe, he'll have to endure all this till he turns eighteen. Maybe, this is actually how it's supposed to be.

Maybe, he should suffer.

'I'll be free once I go to college. Once I'm out of here.' He convinced himself.

But the actual question is, will he last that long?

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