Break the Broken boy

~Abuela~

Mark, Noah and I hung out all weekend, we went to laser tag and to the arcade. I had fun, genuine fun with my friends for the first time in a few years.

But sadly, today was Monday and that meant school. It also meant that dad was back. I got myself ready as quick as I could, leaving the house without looking back.

I walked to school, smiling as I saw Noah and Mark waiting for me. "Sup man." I said, giving Mark a high five and Noah a fist bump. "You good after a refreshing weekend?" Noah asked, I gave him a shrug. "As good as I can be, let's just hope everything goes fine tonight."

~~

I made my way home, school was boring as always, just the usual bullshit you do at school. I got my key out as I walked closer to the house, that's when I saw dad's car. Shit. I put my key away, if dad was home I wouldn't need to unlock the door.

I had barely shut the door when I heard someone shout out, a lady shout out. "OH YES!! RIGHT THERE JASON!!" Ew. I walked straight to the kitchen, ignoring the disgusting sounds not so far away. I started to prepare dinner for my father.

I made a simple stir fry, adding extra soy sauce just how dad likes it. I had just served up two dishes when dad and his slut walked out of his room. He came straight over and got his dinner, handing the other to the skank beside him. He went to the fridge to grab a beer, I started heading upstairs but stopped when I heard dad slam the fridge shut, growling as he did so.

"Liam, son..." I cringed at the word "son" dad only really said son when one of his sluts was over, making him seem like a genuine guy. "Could you please go down to the store and get me some more beer?"

"Sure thing dad." I whispered out, trying to seem as invisible as I could. I pulled a fluffy grey hoodie on before walking out of the door with my wallet. Dad never gave me money when I went to the store, I had to use my hard earned money. I worked whenever I could, usually it was helping my next door neighbour, Mrs Goméz. However, she lets me call her Abuela. She had two little grandkids that stay with her a lot, Marco and Julia. They have adorable Spanish accents and they have been teaching me a bit. Julia is thirteen and Marco is seven.

I walked to the store, heading straight to the liquor part of it. I got a two packs of six, meaning I got twelve. For all I know dad will go through half of them by tonight.

I walked up to the checkout, placing them on the moving thingy as I started to pull my money out. "Evening sir, how are you?" The checkout lady asked, I looked up at her, my face showing my calm yet emotionless mood. "I'm fine." I said, handing her the money as she scanned the beer. "Thank you, have a good night sir."

"I wish." I muttered under my breath as I walked away, carrying both beer cases in my hand. It was fairly easy carrying both cases in one hand, I worked out a lot and yet I couldn't stand up to dad. Shocking, right?

I guess the muscles give me that extra tough guy look, at least then all people see is the muscle and tattoos, not the scars and flimsy boy under it all. I'm weak, I know that. Not physically.

My mind is so fucked that I can't even think of fighting back at dad. My brain has erased any courage I once had to stand up to him, he moulded my brain to believe their is no hope in stopping him.

And I believe it.

Dad is too strong for me, and I'll admit that. My body has become so fragile to his touch, one flick of his finger and any courage I once had disappears in the blink of an eye.

Dad weakened me...

He broke me...

He's made me a small boy who cowers in corners, the small boy who cries after one kick. He's made me afraid of my own shadow, anticipating the worst only to have hell in return. He's made me fear a man I should look up to, who should guide me and help me...