I kept on walking to the sounds of people snickering at me. I

scrambled to pick up my things off of the floor. After picking up my things I

scampered out of the hell-hole called 'school'. Living fairly close to the

school I walked to my house and took out my key and unlocked the door. Quietly

stepping inside I walked upstairs to my room, making sure not to wake my father.

Slowly closing the door it squeaked loudly, and I heard someone mumbling. I held

my breath as I turned pale, then I heard a snore and I breathed again, returning

to my normal color. Why I was afraid of my father? To start off, ever since my

mother left us and moved to New York, my dad was a mess. Who he let his anger

out on? That was me; Brian. I blinked hardly pushing away the memories of my

father brutally punching, kicking, and swearing at me. As I tear slid down my

cheek I blinked it away. I always wished I had a picture of my mother to hug to

calm me, but I had no

memory of her. She left when I was 5 years old. I scrambled when I heard my


'BRIAN!' My father yelled 'WHERE IS MY DINNER?!' I froze, my father beat me

anytime I did something wrong, or if I forgot to do something. Quickly thinking

as I heard my father walk up to my room, I hid in between a small opening

between my desk and my nightstand. As I pulled a tall bin in front of me my door

opened loudly.

'BRIAN! WHERE ARE YOU?!' My father screamed. A chill shook up my spine at the

loudness and anger in his voice. Frozen, I thought of what would happen if he

found me. Then, he just left with a tomato-face. I quickly scrambled out of my

hiding spot and grabbed a pillow and blanket, and headed to the bathroom. I

locked the door, I wasn't going to take the chance of him beating me in my


Curled up in a ball on the floor, in a blanket, in the bathroom got

the best of me and I cried. I sobbed wishing I had a better father. Before he

beat me less brutally and I could learn to ignore hi at times, then he found

some notes I wrote about if I should tell my father I'm gay and long story

short, he beats me harder now.

I awoke the next morning sore all over, and still scared of my

father. I bolted out the bathroom, skipped breakfast, grabbed my backpack and

ran to school. I made it to my locker and unpacked my backpack, while keeping my

math binder for first class. Bolting to my class, I was stopped by Anthony, I

gulped. One of his two 'puppies' (they always follow him around) knocked down my

books while his fist curled into a ball and hurled at my face. With a loud

smack, I fell to the floor, my nose bleeding. Scrambling to get my things they

were now kicking around. Once I finally gathered my binder and papers I ran to

the bathroom, and cleaned up my nose. When I exited the bathroom, the hallways

were empty. SHIT! I was late for class! Running into my class I sat down quickly

and the teacher roared at me.

'Brian! You are late! What is your excuse?!'Mrs.Thomson questioned. I sat

quiet. 'I thought so...' She said. The rest of the day flew by quickly, and then I

bumped into Anthony again. Frozen, my face changed color.

'Hey nerd!' Anthony said, and then his curled fist made contact with my face

again, this time more powerful. I fell to the ground with a bloody mouth and

then I heard a low, powerful voice behind me roar.

'HEY!' Said the teenager I didn't know. Then, I turned around, it was Jake, the

quarterback of our football team. Jake continued yelling at Anthony 'WHAT DID HE

EVER DO TO YOU?!' Jake's face was now red.

'So what he's a fucking gee....' Before he finished his sentence Anthony fell to

the ground holding his face. His two 'puppies' scampered off terrified. Jake

reached down to help me up. He took me to the bathroom and cleaned up my bloody


'I'm sorry he did that to you.' Jake said in a calm voice.

'It's fine, I'm used to it.' I squeaked.

'No it's not fine, they always beat you up, and you don't do anything about

it.' Jake said shakily. After he cleaned me up he walked me outside, and I

walked to my house. When I got home, I couldn't stop smiling, overwhelmed with

happiness. Then, I heard my dad yell my name 'BRIAN!' I was instantly paralyzed

with fear. I had to think quickly. Opening my window, leaping out, my arm landed

on a rose bush. I winced in pain, turning my head to my arm. It was coated in

blood. Where could I go? What would I do about my arm? The only way was to face

my father.....




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