Chapter one

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A/N: TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Abuse, Self deprecating thoughts. Mentions if Anorexia, Crying. If I miss any triggers please tell me, I really don't want anyone to get triggered by something, start panicking, then get into an emotional trainwreck or something. I'm sorry I have no idea how triggers work, anyways, on with the authors note:

Welp, here's my new story. I have a lot of chapters already written. I'll post a one or two about everyday if I feel like it. Also this first chapter is talking about Virgil and his dad if you can't tell.
Also, to everyone who has to read this before I edit it 300 times, i'm sorry for the trashy writing. if I edit anything, then in the title where it days chapter one, i'll type (edited) next to it. You probably don't care, so, enjoy the story darlings! Or don't, either is fine! 🖤

Cold. It's all he felt. Cold. Clammy. Crowded. Alone. Desperate for something. Anything. Maybe an escap-

Suddenly he was hot. Suddenly burning. Suddenly hot tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

Some spilt over the edge when his father's belt lashed against the bare pale skin of his stomach again. He doubled over in pain. But pain was all he ever felt. Pain was his life now.

His father kicked his leg harshly. A loud crack could be heard followed by a muffled scream.

Tears filled his eyes once again. He tried to keep them in, though he knew they'd eventually come crashing down, flowing down his face helplessly before he could stop them. He knew he'd cry like the pathetic person he was.

He knew he'd be punished for it.

He thought to himself, 'I should be grateful he isn't drunk yet..' He held his breath and closed his eyes in an attempt to make the tears disappear.

In the back of his mind he hoped to disappear too.

They soon snapped back open when a strong hand connected with his tear stained cheek that was slowly getting redder every time it was slapped.

His eyes were suddenly wide open, the tears he tried oh so desperately to contain couldn't be held anymore by his weak eyelids.. The tears that pooled in his eyes spilled over the edge and created a whole new trail of tear tracks that would flood down his face.

"Useless piece of trash.." Virgil's father muttered under his breath. But Virgil heard.

He always did.

He was about to be lashed with the belt once more, but the front door downstairs opened and then closed.

"Honey, I'm home!" A cheery voice-Virgil's mother-yelled. Virgil bit back a sigh of relief.

His father glared at him one last time, before backhanding him silently but still hard enough to leave a mark, before whispering threateningly, "Say anything about this to her..and next time will be worse." He nodded in fear, then watched as his father went down stairs to greet his clueless wife.

Virgil finally willingly could let the tears flow.

Virgil whimpered quietly and limped to his bathroom. He looked at his bruised shirtless body in the mirror.

His face scrunched up in disgust at for once not himself, but the scars on him.

'It looks like I was being hit with a whip..' Virgil thought to himself and frowned. He knew his father used a hard leather belt again. But it was better than the electric whip.

He looked at his cheek, and touched his face. His frown deepened and he flinched at the slightest contact his fingers had with his cheek.

He sighed, knowing covering it up could be painful. He looked at his arms,
Chest, and stomach which had huge reddish purplish bruises and markings on them.

'Guess I'll have to wear my hoodie again for a while..' Virgil grabbed his makeup and started applying his pale foundation over his scarred body and bruised face, flinching each time he lightly brushed the makeup over his body.

Once finished, he looked in the mirrors. He smiled slightly, seemingly satisfied with his handiwork.

Then he saw his face and frowned, and thought to himself, 'Welp..I honestly looked better WITH the scars...'

He put on his shirt and then his hoodie. Usually even when he didn't need his hoodie he would wear it to cover up how incredibly skinny he was. His father barely let him eat. He was only allowed to eat when it was necessary
to survive. Or when his mother noticed he needed food. She never made something that was too much for Virgil to handle, her being considerate of what might be happening and all.

When he did eat, his father would force him to puke it up usually. Most of the time though, Virgil would puke on his own. It's gotten to the point where it hurt for Virgil to eat.

Usually he chose not to eat willingly, because his father implanted it into his brain that Virgil was "fat" "needed to lose weight" "watch the calories"

He limped out of the bathroom and downstairs.

When Virgil came downstairs with a limp, she rushed over to him, really worried.

"Virgil, dearest what happened to you?!" She had a look of pure concern on her face. Virgil smiled. At least his mother cared for him.

"I-I was just..playing football with dad earlier while you were at work..I tripped over a rock and hurt my leg..but I'm okay. I'll be fine in a few days. Hopefully." He whispered that last part.

"Oh sweetie.." she whispered. "Try to be more careful..I'd hate to see you hurt..and I hate anything that hurts you..in fact! I'm going to go give that rock a piece of my mind!" The protective mother stomped outside to beat up a rock, then immediately felt bad for said rock and apologize to it.

Virgil sighed and smiled.

His mother walked back inside. "Virgil honey, what would you like for dinner?" She asked nicely.

Virgil looked to his dad, asking with his eyes what to do.

His father glared and him and shook his head no while his mother was looking through the cabinets.

"I-uh- dad actually made me food before you got home..I...already ate it. And its eleven pm already. I should get to sleep.."

Virgil's mom sent over a sweet smile that could melt the sun, blew a kiss to her son, and said, "okay, darling! I love you, sweet dreams!"

Virgil bid his mother good night and went upstairs to try and go to sleep. Fear of nightmares usually would haunt him each night, so a good sleep was rare most times.

Soon, though, after fearing the school that would soon come tomorrow, Virgil thought about his mom, Remus, Damien, the good things about life, and for once fell into a semi-peaceful slumber.

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