Work Text:
Shiii
He stood silently in the loud, cold, pouring rain however the sound of rain was drowned out as a man cried louder than the thunder itself.
The weather was perfectly suited for this type of situation as dark clouds slowly rolled over the sky and the eerie sound of thunder leisurely taking it's time to form coupled with the unforgiving rain soaking everything it could touch- yes, this unfavourable weather was perfect for a funeral as dreadful as this.
The woman who was being buried was dearly loved by many people however only one person cried at her funeral and as cruel as that sounds it was only because family was invited and unfortunately they didn't like her.
He loved her- he absolutely loved her and he also wanted to cry but he had to stay strong for the man that was crying like a newborn baby and he ignored the urge to cry as well by patting the much bigger man on the back instead as he clung onto him like a lifeline.
Behind the man's back he could see a beautiful crimson haired woman laying in the open coffin with white flowers surrounding her but he knew she would rather prefer the blood red flowers she adored so much.
Her once lively gray brown eyes were now dull and empty and her once healthy pale skin was now a deathly pale shade.
"she was a very loved..." The eulogist's speech was drowned out as the thunder finally let out it's fury right after the woman was buried six feet deep underground and that was the cue for everyone to leave after giving their fake condolences.
Except for him and the man clinging to him, everyone left in a hurry to escape the storm's sea of vexation.
The man lasted five minutes before finally standing up from the wet mud and without saying a word, turned around and left, making squelching noises as he walked.
That left him alone and once his father was out of sight he finally cried alone at his mother's freshly made grave.
He was leaning all of his bodyweight on the grave and gripped onto it desperately, his screams were deafened by the thunder and his tears were hid by the rain caressing his face.
He didn't know how long he was there for but by how sore his legs were when he stood up and said his farewells he knew he was there for a while.
The walk home wasn't far but it felt like hours before he finally arrived and the first thing he heard was silence and the atmosphere was gloomy.
If his mother were still alive she would never have allowed this to happen she would've never allowed what was about to happen to her child.
he walked around the mansion and still no noise was heard so father must have excused all the maids and servants from their jobs once he came back as they would still be working at this hour.
Before he could walk any further he heard something smashing on the ground from what sounded like was from his father's office.
He hastily but cautiously walked to the direction of the noise and silently opened the door to his father's office and peeking through the crack of the door.
His heartbeat quickened when he saw his father drinking bottle after bottle of alcohol, his father only drank occasionally and when he did it was always slowly drank, as if he didn't like alcohol very much.
But now he already drank five bottles and even dropped one, he could see the glass shards splayed everywhere and he could see the dark red color of the drink staining against the floor, he couldn't help but see a woman laying in that puddle of blood.
He shook his head out of his thoughts but that action caught the eyes of his drunken father and he stumbled in his direction.
"COME HERE BOY!"
He flinched as his father screamed at him, this wasn't his normal behavior and he had a very, very bad feeling about this...he never called him 'boy' before.
He slowly opened the door and timidly came inside but he left the door open as he felt that something bad would happen if he closed it...
(⚠️not like that!⚠️)
he was never timid...
However before he could think further he saw something flying towards him and he quickly covered his face with his arms before the empty glass bottle hit him right where he blocked his face.
He sharply gasped in pain as the glass shards pierced deep into his skin and he fearfully looked up as the shadow of his father threateningly loomed above him.
SLAP
He looked to the side as he felt a sharp sting on his cheek and he slightly touched the area that he knew was a red bruise on his cheek.
He didn't even register that he had fallen down from the momentum of his father's hit. He slightly teared up as he realized that the first time he was ever hit was from his own father.
"STOP CRYING OR I'LL GIVE YOU A REASON TO CRY!"
He desperately moved backwards through the door and didn't even get to feel relief that he didn't close it as he felt that his legs would be too shaky to stand up fast enough.
His father thankfully didn't chase him after that and just slammed the door shut, making him flinch.
However he didn't stay in that position for long and shakily stood up and ran to his room incase his father changed his mind.
Only when he locked the door to his room did he fall to the floor and let out a heavy breath of relief to be away from there.
It took a while for his fear to be replaced with pain, in his fear of his father he forgot about the pain but now that he has calmed down somewhat he could feel the sharp sting of the glass cutting into his skin.
He stood up, going to the bathroom mirror to pluck out all of the shards, however it was his first time handling physical pain and was too scared to get it out.
He was scared of causing more pain- he was scared of pain.
His other part of his brain reasoned that it would be painful to take out but his other half reasoned that it would only be more painful later if he didn't take it out now.
He hesitantly took out the glass in his hands and flinched with each glass that he took out, once he was done with one hand he quickly wrapped it in bandages to stop it from bleeding but he didn't know if he was doing it correctly and his other hand was trembling, making him do the bandages amateurly.
However, how was a seven year old expected to know how to bandage wounds, he had classes of course but he wasn't taught first aid yet.
It took him much longer than he would have liked to get out all of the glass and it took him even longer to bandage it, all that effort and it was still not done properly.
He took one look at himself in the full body mirror and suddenly had a thought, how long was this going to last?
he had no idea but even if his father returned to normal, nothing would be the same between them again.
A few weeks passed by but he had not seen him once since then, he didn't know if he should feel relieved or not.
Relieved because he didn't know if his father would hit him if he saw him and upset because he was feeling very...alone.
He didn't like this feeling, it made him sad and overthink things like if he was abandoned or not cared for anymore.
And that proved to be right a few months later when he saw his father again but he was once again drinking but this time it was much worse, instead of five bottles there were now fifteen.
If father hit him with a bottle and slapped him in the face at five bottles then he didn't even want to imagine what he would do to him with fifteen...
Before he could escape back to his room, his wrist was snatched with and iron grip and he was harshly pulled back and thrown against the wall, making him cry out and cough out blood...cough out blood!?
His eyes widened as he touched the blood dripping down his chin but before he could react further a bottle was thrown right next to his head, making the bottle explode into pieces, some glass left cuts on his face as it barely missed it and some sunk into his skin, making his wounds open up again.
His arms trembled as the old bandages turned a crimson red, his old wounds didn't heal yet as he bandaged it incorrectly.
His father saw this and scoffed "pathetic!" And left but not before giving him a kick to his side, making his waist throb and tightly held onto it.
He bit back a sob as he rocked his body back and forth and in a form of trying to comfort himself he hummed a lullaby he used to hear from his mother before she died.
It eased his nerves a little and he could imagine that he was back in his mother's arms as she hummed him the lullaby.
His father who heard this lullaby became furious as he was forced to remember his dead was and stormed back into the room.
"BRAT, STOP IT THIS INSTANCE!"
However he didn't stop, he didn't even seem to realize his father was back in the room with him.
He harshly grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his head upwards.
The lullaby was interrupted with a gasp and he opened his eyes, however they looked cloudy as if he wasn't paying attention to what was happening.
He was daydreaming of when his mother was still alive, of when he still had a loving father.
"you damn brat, LISTEN TO ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!"
With that deruth threw him on the floor but he imagined they were just playing around and with each aching punch he pretended his father was tickling him instead.
He giggled.
If deruth wasn't consumed by alcohol he would have been alarmed at the thought his son was giggling in this situation.
"You were a mistake you know, you weren't planned!"
Despite his harsh words he smiled lovingly, this was because he replaced all of deruth's words with loving ones so instead he heard 'I love you"
With each positive reaction deruth got angrier and angrier, there was not a single place where he didn't hit.
And he laughed despite being brutally beaten because in his mind he imagined a wholesome father-son moment where he didn't feel any pain.
he felt the pain, he just pretended it wasn't there.
His father stared at his crumpled form as he contemplated whether or not to finish him off. He raised his foot, preparing to bring it hard down on his rib cage.
He was completely spaced out, so deep in his mind that even when he felt a raging pain in his rib cage he didn't pay attention to it, however it was enough to stop him from giggling in real life.
Deruth huffed, annoyed as he left the room but the alcohol made him blind to the damage he inflicted on his son.
Once deruth left the deruth in his mind left his room after tucking him in bed and saying goodnight.
his mother was still there, humming him a lullaby and he subconsciously hummed the lullaby weakly in reality.
It was a miracle he could make a noise at all, considering that half of his ribcage was protruding through his flesh and his whole body was covered in cuts and bruises.
It was a miracle that he was still alive but not for long...
Coupled with the mutilated body and the weak humming of a lullaby made the scene more grotesque and also...sad.
However inside of his illusion that his mind created to escape from reality, he was whining to his mother beside him.
"Mama, I don't want to go to sleep!" I don't want to die!
"don't...want...to die..."
A feeble voice was heard from the dying seven year old boy and if anyone were to go closer, they would see he was crying, not from pain but from knowing that he would die...even though he didn't want to.
That was the last thing he said.
The last thing that went through his mind was his mother caressing his head and saying "goodnight."
And the light in his eyes finally flickered off, devoid of life as tears stopped streaming down his face.