The Loner and the Prep (bxb)

Chapter Five

Smash A Bottle, Pick It Up
Chapter Five
Watson P.O.V

I heard the sound of a bottle slamming against the wall downstairs. It had shook me awake and allowed a subtle fear to creep into me.

I have always been slightly jumpy but after being abused and bullied you'd have to be crazy to not be jumpy.

I hated that I was jumpy.

I sighed as I looked over to my cheap little alarm clock and saw it was 5:46. To late to go back to sleep. I didn't want to go down stairs, I didn't want to have to face my father, especially since I could already tell you he was mad.

I was so afraid of him. Yet again, you'd have to be crazy to not be.

CRASH!!!

I heard something fall onto the floor, and it sounded like a side table with glass bottles, I'm guessing beer bottles, fall onto the floor and break, and I knew, at that moment, I'd be forced to clean it up.

"WATSON!!!!!!" Dad yelled from down stairs. I hopped out of the small bed, and rushed out of my room. Pondering life was what I did as I walked, well ran down the stairs.

I saw dad standing in the living room, wavering drunkly as he stood next to a hunormous mess that was a knocked over table and tons of shards of glass on the floor around the table. I already knew at that one moment that I'd be the one to have to pick up this mess. It was just how life was, and I knew that it was always going to be this way, unless dad died.

I could only hope dad died.

"CLEAN THIS DAMN MESS UP!!!!" Dad yelled at me, throwing a bottle at me which hit me in the stomach before crashing into the floor, and shatter at my feet, making me jump and jerk away. My father was angry, this isn't a good man to be around while he's angry.

I pity any fool who lives with a man like this. I pity myself.

My dad stormed off to his room before sending me a hard glare. I shivered at the depth of the glare. I let out a breath of relief when dad disappeared from my sight and jumped when a door slammed shut.

I looked down at glass surrounding my bare feet, already seeing myself being trapped in a array of glass. I couldn't walk around until I cleaned the floor up. I sigh as I crouch down a grab the bigger shards and move them in a pile so I can get out of the living room so I can get some shoes on and a broom.

Wince!

I drop the shard of glass, seeing a red color taking a hold on the piece of glass, and I saw a puddle of blood forming on my hand. I wince but ignore it. I was going to get cut again, I could already feel it.

One by one, small cuts, deep cuts, cuts unseen began to appear on my hand, until there was so much blood, my hands were covered in red.

Once I managed to get out of the way, I rush into the kitchen and turn on the tap and putting my hands under the cold water, seeing the water turn a pale pink color. I sighed when all the water was a clear color. I pull my hands out and see the cuts all red and aggravated. I sighed, I was too used to my own blood, this, this was nothing.

I rest my head against the kitchen sink before pulling myself back up and walk over to a small closet that help all my cleaning supplies. I grab the broom and a small sweeper.

I walk back into the living room, before accidently stepping on a shard of glass.

I felt tears well up into my eyes but held them back, I lifted my leg with the new cut on it and see the glass, before removing it, biting my lips to hold in a scream that wanted to escape. I fling the glass across the room and near the other shards except some of them were covered in blood.

I begin to sweep all the glass into a small corner before sweeping it onto the small pan before disposing of the shards. I walked back upstairs after the room is clean and walking into my bedroom and close the door behind me. I walk over to my bed, and by the side of it was my advanced first aid kit. When dad started getting really violent I researched how to do stitches just so I could remain as healthy as possible. I know how to do stitches now, if you were wondering.

I grab the kit carefully as my hands were starting to bleed again. I sighed. I sigh alot. Whatever.

I open the kit and grab the wrap as the cuts covered a majority of my hand. I wrap my hand carefully after putting small pieces of cotton on the cuts to prevent them from bleeding through. I wrapped another wrap around my foot, as the cut was about the length of my whole foot. I winced when I felt the wrap digging into my foot.

I slip my socks on, and put my old shoes and wanted to wince again. I grab my jacket and dig out my cello, wincing at the weight it created on my foot.

I walk out of my room, a frown plastered on my face, refusing to cook breakfast for dad this morning regardless of the beating I might get. It's going to take me even longer to get to school today walking since my foot was killing me.

I pulled myself towards to the door and walked right out, knowing dad wasn't in the living room nor would stop me from leaving for school.

I begin to walk, not wanting to see anyone today. This sucks.