Page 37 of Sinful Addiction

Font Size:

Page 37 of Sinful Addiction

“Why have you got a book aboutA Guide to Writing Poetry?”He looks it over while laughing.

I position my arm so I can carefully cradle my wrist without bringing more attention to myself.

“It’s homework.”

My brother takes it from Dad’s hands and studies it for himself.They’re making me nervous on top of the searing pain that’s throbbing in my wrist.Without Mom and my sister here, anything could happen without warning.

I might only be twelve, but I’m smart.I know when it’s time to look out for myself.I learnt the telltale signs of pending abuse from a young age and have been capable of—with the help of my sister, hiding my injuries, bruises and nursing myself back to good health.This one, however, I don’t think I can hide.

“This shit is a waste of time.It’s only good for lighting fires.What do you say, Dad.Is it getting cold in here?”

He pulls a lighter from his jeans front pocket and flicks the flint.Both of their eyes widen as the flame dances between my brother’s fingers.Dad takes the book back again, then places it inside the fire, one ripped out page at a time.

“You do the honors, son.”Dad doesn’t hesitate to pass over the piece of folded paper that fell out.My homework.

Words almost escape me as the heated flame sears the edge of my hard work before it alights.Instead of yelling my pleas to stop, I bite hard on my inner cheek hoping the new pain will distract me enough to let this scene play out and hopefully be over before I pass out.

“Boy, I don’t know how you turned out so wrong.Look at your brother here.He toes the line.He never puts a foot wrong, unlike you.Hell, even your sister treats us with more respect.You’re a disgrace to this family.”Another push to the shoulder and I make sure this time to keep my footing.

I don’t know where he gets these silly ideas from.I do everything around here that I’m asked.I never speak out, and I try my hardest to stay out of their way otherwise.

I’ve learnt over the years to let his words go.They’re meaningless just like he is.Still, I keep my mouth closed wishing this will soon be over.

“Come here,” Dad demands.He’s pacing around in the living room now.Why?I think I’m about to find out.

“I said, come here!”His raised voice makes me flinch.I jolt forward in such a hurry I miss the new obstacle and trip over.I brace by putting both hands in front of myself, then realize my mistake before it’s too late.

The burning discomfort I had beforehand has nothing on the intense spike of pain cutting through me now.I wail as I land with both wrists bearing eighty-nine pounds of body mass.That’s when the bone under my flesh shifts.

I can no longer withhold my cries, and with them comes my punishment.

“I knew you’d break, son.It was only a matter of time.Get up.”Dad starts nudging me with his solid boots, urging me to move.

The longer I stay on the ground the harder the kicks get until I’m getting hits from both sides.I try with all my might to curl into a ball, but with each blow, I’m shifted into an awkward position leaving me wide open for more kicks to my abdomen.

The only thing I can protect is my face as I make a shield with my good arm.

Minutes feel like hours as my own family beats me black and purple.

I know I won’t be attending school for the next week.Mom will call in with a lame excuse.

I fight with everything I have to pick myself off the floor while being kept down.I can’t allow them to win, again.I need to find the fight in me.The last breath of strength to show them I’m more than the baby they’re calling me.

Then it all stops.

“I think we need to go back to the pub where those bitches were about to show you how to be a real man, Darius.Beats wasting our time here on a Saturday.”The pride in Dad’s voice is despicable.My brother shouldn’t be doing any of those things; almost seventeen, he’s already left school, drives Dad around without Mom knowing, smokes everything I know to exist, drinks alcohol, and gets around with some very bad people.

I hear my brother boasting as he and Dad leave the house.

I’m thankful for their exit.

I curl into a ball on the floor, close my eyes and pretend I’m anywhere else.

“Tony?Tony?Antonio!”Xander’s irritated voice brings me back to the now, thankfully cutting off the memory before I relive the worst part of it.“What’s wrong with you?”

I rein in my anger and replace it with the stone-cold man I’m accustomed to.

“Are you going to help me, or not?”I don’t beat around the bush.“Either way, I’m going to kill him.”




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books