Terrible Things (Boyxboy)

I. A Terrible Life

Chapter 1: A Terrible Life

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An original short story by 

TheBirdWhoCannotFly 

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I fell back on my bed while reaching for the thin pillow before wrapping it under my head to cover my ears. The voices were more muffled than before, but I could still hear them. I'd tried everything. Blankets scattered the room, covering the vents, the space between the floor and where my door closed. Anything I could think of to muffle the screamed insults. According to my parents, I cause everything that was wrong in their lives. Anytime I was blamed, I would respond with some excuse of why it had nothing to do with me. Course that always resulted in more insults and a few beatings. I could handle them all though. That was what I always told myself.  

My father is a well respected man in our quaint little town of Brattleboro, Vermont. Everyone knew each other in this town. Especially my father. They all admired him and knew he was a "wonderful" man. I could tell a different story. My mother is the same way. She's a registered nurse at the local hospital. My father doesn't have a job. He used to stay home to take care of my older brother and I. But now that Jay moved out and I'm fifteen, he just stays home because he's lazy and enjoys a life of leisure. 

Jay and I used to be so close. But ever since he moved to college in California, he calls me maybe once a week. Never visits though. Our parents started getting violent after he left. I could tell him about it, but what could he do? He's just a twenty year old college boy. 

No one at school knows about my home life. Even my best friend. Like I said, everyone loves my parents. Who would even believe me? When they ask about the bruises, I make something up. It's how it always goes. 

Quietly groaning, I let the pillow flop back onto my red comforter and slugged over to the small wood desk in the corner of my room. My laptop sat there with my ear buds plugged in the audio jack. I sat down in the computer chair and dragged my finger over the track pad. The computer buzzed to life. The screen was on my iTunes account where as I had been listening to music. I was about to continue, when I heard my name being called from downstairs. 

"Adrian!" It was my father. Sighing, I let the ear buds slip between my fingers and stood. What could he want now? He'd already bruised my abdomen earlier today. Weren't they tired yet? My heart was beating at an unnatural rate. For God's sake, you weren't supposed to feel constantly frightened and paranoid in your own home! It's supposed to be a place were you feel safe. Not at the edge of your seat, waiting for the next hit or insult. As soon as my dad saw me round the corner from the stairs he started speed walking towards me.  

"You never told me the score you got on your exam on Friday." He breathed in my face. To tell the truth, I got a B. I find that agreeable, but my parents have other idea's. I'm supposed to be a straight A student. Like Jay. I could lie and tell him I got an A, but knowing him he would call the teacher to confirm. I looked at my mom who stood behind him with her arms crossed expectantly. I sighed and closed my eyes, ready to get this over with. 

"I-I got a b-B." As expected, I felt a hand slam across my face.  

"Worthless..." I heard my mom mutter. 

"That's not good enough! You know we expect you to get nothing but A's! Why can't you be like your brother?! The fact that you're related to your brother astounds me. Jay is everything we expect from a Proctor! How are you even our child? Get out of my sight. We'll call you back down when dinner is ready." Once my dad was done spitting out his expectations, and smacking me around with every word, I nodded and went back upstairs to my bathroom.