Break the Broken boy

~Happy birthday~

I woke up as the sun shone through my curtains, blinding me with its bright rays. I stood up and got dressed, throwing on some jeans and a short sleeved top. I went downstairs and made dad breakfast before he woke up, he wanted to wake up to his breakfast already done and a beer beside it.

I placed the bacon and eggs on the plate, adding extra pepper, just the way he likes it. I placed a beer beside it before leaving the house and walking down the street. I didn't need to look where I was going, I had been this way a hundred times. Every step I had to take, 1,347..., Every concrete brick underneath my feet, 79,515,064..., and how many seconds I walked for, 2,753....

Every detail was etched into my mind, I knew every person that would pass by and when the would pass. I knew every house and who lived there, whether they were nice or not. I knew every car that was parked beside my walkway, every model and who drove it.

I finally arrived at my destination, I looked up at all of the headstones sticking out of the ground. I knew every name, who they were related too. I knew every age, how young or old they were when the past.

I started walking towards the rows, knowing exactly where I had to go. 3 rows down, 73 left... I knew exactly where she was. 310 steps, 765 seconds... I finally came across the headstone, I sat down in front of it, reading over the engraved words.

Julie Lewis
1982-2004
Beloved wife and new mother.
~Forever in our hearts~

"Hey mom..." I said as I smiled down at her grave, there were photos of her as a child, a teenager and as a young adult. "Happy eight years... I can't believe I've gone eight years without a mom... I feel really bad mom, dad hates me because I killed you... it's not my fault though, right?"

This was the yearly routine, wake up, make dad breakfast, head to graveyard. That's where I spend my day, talking to mom, telling her what's been happening. I'd like to think that one day she'll come to my rescue, she'll bring me up to wherever she is and look after me.

Heaven... that place sounds nice... sure, I don't believe in god but I'd like to think that I'll go there and see mom once I'm gone. I also hope that dad will descend to the pits of hell and rot there for all of eternity but you know...

Prison would be good too I guess...

"Eight years... eight years you've been gone and four years I've put up with this. Dad really has made everything worse for me... he doesn't even call me his son anymore, I have to call him sir." I could feel the tears in my eyes, four years ago I had someone to look up to, to find guidance and safety. Now...

Now I hide from a monster...

"It's getting late mom, I have to go home and make dad dinner. I just hope he forgets what today is... goodbye mom, I'll see you when we next meet." I said with a small smile. I placed a white rose on mom's grave, one I had found a while ago.

I stood up and started walking home, preparing myself for what was to come.

Preparing... that's a funny word to me... I could prepare for years, first aid kits and such for after a beating. I could prepare myself mentally for the words to come, the names and the insults. I prepare for the punches and the kicks...

Yet all of that crumbles on the first blow.

Tears, blood, pain. That's how it always ends, my body trembling with pain as my blood surrounds me, tears mixing into the thick red liquid.

It's odd though, no matter how many times it happened, every day for four years, I'm still not used to the pain. I've been hit and kicked in the same spot over a hundreds times, I've been left in a puddle of my own blood and tears, unable to move from the pain...