spar :: hiddlesworth au

prologue

The bruise on Tom's face stretched painfully as he bit his lip in thought. His eyes scanned the article of the newspaper he held between his fingers, pupils following the words as his mind ventured across the page. The pads of each finger tiptoed across the pages, skimming relentlessly.

His physical trembling came to a pause when he discovered a certain advertisement hidden deep within the comic section. The cartoons were surrounded with similar pictures, for each company wanted their fortune. It was only a matter of time before Tom caught sight of the advertisement that would no doubt change his life.

Self Defense Classes

Inspecting the page closely, the boy memorized the address and stored it for later on. Ironically, an important source prevented Tom from investigating further. The bellow from the first floor became his main priority. Not only that, but the booming voice was plenty alarming for such an hour.

"I'm coming, Father," said Tom.

"You forgot the dishes." It was a calmer tone the second time around. "They're waiting for you."

Tom blew a soft sigh of relief. He'd been expecting far worse, so the gentleness was a kind surprise.

"I'll be just a moment!" Tom rushed, scraping his nails through his long, unruly, black hair. He slid his other hand across his face, brushing delicately over the tender features. The teenager bit back a curse; he had pressed too hard on his left temporal bone. One could only imagine the yellow color the bruised bone would be come morning. It was something he often thought about when evaluating such wounds.

Tom then attempted to brighten his own day by faking a smile. However, it was clear the trick failed, and he remained depressed. No pseudo-smile in the mirror would change his mood. At that point, Tom accepted he was worthy of such bruises. After all, it was he who was the bad child. He would forget his father's dishes repeatedly, fail to close the shower curtain, and cuss when swearing was not necessary. To his parents, all seemed to be horrific traits. Barbaric. It's not professional. How will you provide for your family, Thomas? No goddamn woman will love a man who can't clean up his own mess.

Regardless of their words, and regardless of his thoughts, Tom hurried down the stairs to the ground floor. His dad was already sitting in the living room, unaware of the lad and his newfound presence.

The sinks filled agonizingly slow. Tom tapped recklessly on the marble countertop, wishing for time to fly. It couldn't.

Tom was finally able to focus his attention on the advertisement he'd discovered minutes earlier. He grabbed a plate from his left, setting it in the sudsy water before him.

Tom had enough money. His grandparents left him plenty of that. They all pitied him, stuffing his pockets fat with money. It was their children who treated him in such ways, so they must have felt responsible for his parents' actions. But unfortunately, no relative was willing to give Tom's parents to the scrutiny and law of the state.  Nevertheless, the expense was no problem. It was the lying that proved to be tricky. The classes would have to be brushed off as if they were an after school, academic club.

Scrub, rinse, dry. Tom repeated, fleeing from the thoughts for a moment. The idea of such a scandal chilled him. If his parents found out, there would be hell to pay. For that moment, it was best to focus on the sudsy, hot water. The warmth radiating through his arms and through his limbs was able to distract him just enough to abandon the thoughts. The heat stung as the temperature grew exponentially.

Later on, after every dish was washed, Tom let his mind drift again. He dried his pruned hands and hurried up the stairs, desperate to escape his father. His mother was also a person to avoid, but her torture was directed at the mind. Tom didn't know what was worse. Does mental agony hurt more than physical beatings? Unlike every other night, Tom succeeded in escaping the two. He would save the question for a later date.

Tom also took his unlikely escape as a sign.

Tom entered his room and locked the door immediately. His hand found the nearest notebook, and he tore out a page. A blue pen was found at his left.

Pros:
Skills acquired, Safety, Independence, Life

Cons:
Risks of discovery, Interaction w/ trainer, Mild expenses, Risk of injury, Loss of time, More lies, Mother, Father

Despite what one would think, the pros outweighed the cons. Safety was a large category, and it was essential to Tom's survival. Though he had one more year in that home, he worried. Seventeen-year-old boys could typically hold their own. However, Tom was only a pale, skinny, lengthy body that took up very little space.

The list helped Tom gather courage. It gave him just enough to write down a few more sentences.

To do list:
Study Advanced Lit, Write synthesis essay conclusion, Buy new tennis shoes and gear, Enroll in classes

To add emphasis, Tom made sure to underline the important events, his pen darkening with each mark. It bled through the page, but it soon dispersed in a salty droplet of water. The closing of a notebook was followed by a muffled sob.