Chapter 3: The Impossibe

WARNING!! CHILD ABUSE, GORE, ATTEMPT AT MURDER!! God, I keep writing sad crap.

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It's been about three months since my mother punished me for breaking her new vase. My eye is still blind and will randomly start causing agonizing pain. I think my mother caused it so I would remember to never do that again, as if stabbing me in the eye wasn't enough. I looked in the mirror, still in disbelief that my mother would do this to me. I know that my parents are a bit more....harsh than other parents, but I know that I deserve what they do to me, or at least that is what they're always screaming that at me when I resist the abuse.

I realized that I had gotten lost in thought and shook my head. I looked back at my eye. I know that my mother or father could fix this if they really wanted to, but when I spoke up about it, I just got beat again. I sighed and looked at my teeth. God, I hated my teeth so much. They were pointy and sharp. I got them from my father. Everyone I meet are freaked out by them and tend to avoid me.

I looked at the cuts on my upper and lower lips that will never heal or fade. Back when I was eight, I had talked back to my mother and to punish me, she took her dark dagger and cut all over my arms, and she cut all over my face. The deeper you cut with the dagger, the longer the cuts last. If you cut hard enough, the cut last forever.

I sighed and sat on my bed. This is going to be my life forever, isn't? Just putting up with this abuse until they finally kill me, their own son. I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. I just let them fall down my cheeks.

Eventually, I heard my father scream for me to come over there. I quickly wiped my tears away and rushed over to the lounge to be greeted my mother sitting with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face and my father sitting next to her reading the newspaper.

"H-hello mother and father. Why did you need me?" I asked, slightly worried. Whenever my parents would call for me, it was almost always because I did something wrong and they were going to punish me, or they wanted me to do more and more chores. My mother gave me a death glare and scowled.

"At school, the guidance councilor saw you crying in the bathroom. Do you know how weak you looked? How much dishonor you brought to our family?!" My mother screamed. My hands curled into tight balls.

"Dishonor?! Yeah, I'm sure your ancestors are delighted that you are child abusers! And the reason I was crying was because you and father treat me so horribly! Do you know what it is like constantly be worrying with a knot in your stomach that your parents, the people that are supposed to protect you, are going to kill you when you get home, not even knowing what you did wrong?! You and father are horrible parents!" I yelled. I looked up to see how my parents reacted to this.

My father dropped his newspaper to the ground, his mouth hanging open. My mother on the other hand, looked infuriated. I realized what I had just done. My eyes widened. Oh crap. I'm screwed. I slowly started to back up. Maybe I can run out the door and lock myself inside my room.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, BRAT?!" My mother shouted, grabbing me by my hair. She yanked my hair down, causing me to fall down to the ground. I could see my father quietly walking to the corner of the room where his chest was. Oh no. That where kept all his weapons. Is...is he finally going to end me...!? He opened it and picked up a crowbar from it.

My father ran over to where I was laying on the ground and kicked me in the chest, hard. I started to cough up blood. I saw my father raise the crowbar above his head and heaved it forward, aiming for my head.

And then everything went black.....

My head throbbed as I opened my eyes. I wasn't in my house anymore. I looked around. I was in what looked like a abandoned ally way. I looked at my arms. They were covered in bruises and cuts. I reached behind me and felt the back of my head. It felt wet. I looked at my hand realized it was covered in blood. Oh, my head was bleeding, fantastic! I looked beside me to see a bloody crowbar. Suddenly, I remembered every thing that had happened. Oh no, where are they?! I looked up to see my mother and father standing in front of me.

"How are you not dead yet, Brat!?" my mother sneered. I scrambled backward. "W-wait! Please don't1 HAVE MERCY! I BEG OF YOU!" I pleaded. My mother chuckled. "Sorry, Darling! This is what you deserve, you horrible, horrible child!" My mother screamed. I noticed she was holding her dark dagger in her right hand.

My mother lunged forward, aiming for my throat. I managed to jump to my right, trying to avoid her dagger. She still managed to gash a scar on my left cheek. Dang it, that is going to be there forever. My mother scowled. My father ran forward and held me down. "Kill Damion, quickly!" My father yelled to my mother. I closed my eyes as tears started to roll down my cheeks. My mother smiled a wicked smiled and lunged forward once again. I tried to jump out of the way, but it was useless. I guess this is my end...

But then the impossible happened.

#i hope you like it #yee #sorry for late update #my writing #damion #damions story #tw: abuse #tw: violence #tw: graphic #tw: child abuse #tw: attempted murder