Punishment

Disclaimer; This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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Punishment

Chapter 2

Kyle's P.O.V

I opened my eyes slowly the next morning, blinking at the searing light pouring through the open curtains and spilling like liquid into my lap. I’ve never been a morning person. In fact people who are morning people irritate me. In my person opinion they should all be round up and made to go to a reform school were they learn to hate the morning like a normal person.

The sun burning my retina’s to a crisp was hardly the most pleasant thing to awake to, and I couldn’t help but groan hoarsely in annoyance.

Quickly I realized I was yet again laying on the dirty floor in the corner of my dingy little previous nights events catch up with my groggy mind, invading the moments early peace I’d had before I realized that I’m once again battered and bloody. Sighing in a mixture of disgust and resignation I lean my head back against the wall. When my head touches the wall I wince and move forward, the back of my skull throbbing lightly and sending a dull ache through my head.

Taking stock of my battle wounds I sigh softly, a gentle exhale of air hissing between my teeth like wind caressing a wavering tree. My wounds sting a bit, reminding me constantly of their existence, my entire being stiff from blood and pain. The marks on my body of various wounds and fluids are grotesques and ugly, a horrible souvenir of another wonderful interaction with my ‘father’.

Most children would love the interest of their parents, but I, on the other hand of the vast family relationship spectrum just wished that my ‘father’ would go die some horrible death. Preferably somewhere in a ditch where he belongs, or even just being buried alive while he slowly suffocated to death. He deserved some horrible, terrifying experiences to match the ones he had inflicted on me. It was only fair, in a manner of speaking.

Turning my thoughts away from the bloody death I would love to inflict upon the man who was trying so hard to break something that was already broken I returning my gaze to my body. My arm is covered in a dark crimson crust betraying last night’s actions, the rivulets that had run so freely and prettily last night, now dried in garish and angry lines. Looking at the mirror that sits propped up against the wall, a tiny thing with many tiny image distorting cracks running through it, I get a real look at my body.

Bruises colour my flesh, a mixture of the deep angry purple-red, speckled with blood hiding under the surface of my skin, and a deep grey-black. Wrapped around and hidden amongst the bruises that cover nearly every inch of my body are the criss-crosses and slashes that I cut into my own skin with the blade that lays abandoned at my feet. My gaze lays on the blade for a few moments as I find myself lost in the memory of flesh giving way to dancing cascades.

Shivering in delight an fear I survey the wounds on the flesh of my arms. I know that once again I have cut myself too deep and the scars on my arms will be a livid angry red under all the colour of my bruises. My gaze begins to slide lower and lower, seizing on every tiny mark before I meet with the final mark. Slathered across my lower body is a trail of dried blood and semen the two fluids mixed, coating my skin in a silvered pink mess.

I’m a hideous sight and I know it; I’m unable to even look at myself any longer, hiding behind a veil of long blonde hair and looking away from the mirror. Glaring out the window I find myself resisting the urge to throw something at the mirror and crack it more until my visage is no longer recognizable in the brutally truthful glass. It's ironic that in this world the only thing that can and will tell the truth to you is an inanimate object.

Sighing as I listen to the silence in the house I grip the corner of my bedside table and drag myself to my feet. The movement sends a wave of pain crashing through my body, leaving every nerve thrumming in pain, no inch of my being left to be lonely in its comfort. Breathing in as deep as I can with bruised ribs I try to work past the pain, steeling myself for the rest of the day as I have done so many times before. The mantra 'Just keep moving' circulates in my head, pushing me forwards and trying to get me moving.

Gritting my teeth I walk across the room slowly, each movement igniting a searing fire of pain in my body. I can only hope that a quick shower will let me work out the kinks in my muscles, and the pain out of my flesh and bones. The ache of the pain I’ve been dealt reaches beyond my skin, right down into my soul, another scar laid against innocent flesh.

Warily I grab a handful of clothes off a pile of laundry on the floor and tip toe down the hall and into the dirty bathroom. The tiny, dingy room resembles the rest of our house, looking like a hurricane blazed through. Every single item that we owned for use in the bathroom; tooth brushes, toothpaste, soap, razors, all of it lay in a scattered pile on the tile floor.

I had no illusions as to how the mess had gotten there, it had been made by my ‘father’ in another of his rampages, one I clearly wasn’t home for since it would have been me on the floor, not some inanimate object if I had been. It was probably the prequel to the fury I’d found him in when I returned home yesterday after school. It made sense that he would do this while I was gone, he had to use something to calm him down a little. Since I wasn't there he'd taken it out on whatever had resisted him. He probably wasn't able to get the toothpaste cap open and he'd gotten irritated enough to attack it.

Making as little noise as possible I turned on our shower, wincing slightly at the tiny rustle of water hitting the ceramic floor of the combined shower bath. Luckily for me the water pressure is so low it hardly makes a sound at all, and I think that I am more grateful for that fact on days like today than at any other time. It also makes washing the wounds on my body a less painful experience since the water doesn't pound against my flesh like a normal shower would. Somehow I don't think they had that in mind when the shower was put in though.

As I step under the light drizzle of hot water I sigh again, this time out of comfort as I feel the muscles that had gone stiff from my awkward sleeping position relax under the wavering stream of the unreliable shower. The light drizzle is just enough to cascade over my skin like a heated waterfall, dripping down my body and caressing my bruised and battered skin with tender hands.

Gently I washed away the evidence of last night’s events using the soap I’d removed from the floor , steeling myself for another horrible day at school and ignoring the sting of the suds making their way into some of my freshly reopened wounds. The pain was sharp, like sharp clawed fingers digging into my flesh and clawing at the tender tissue of an exposed wound. I hissed through my teeth, a sharp exhale of air as a particularly deep wound stung with the pain of invading cleanser, dropping the soap on the floor and leaving it there as I let my head fall back.

Steeling myself against the pain I continued getting ready for the hell that is public school.

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The walk to school was over far too fast for my peace of mind and I soon found myself standing in the crowded hallways of the local school. Ignoring the bustling hoards, wandering the halls with the single minded unity of the pack mentality as they discussed the latest gossip I slunk away to my classroom. My attempt to avoid the people who made my life a misery and pass unseen through the packed hallways proved futile as I suddenly noticed the local bullies looming up ahead.

“Kyle! You faggot, how was your night last night as a prostitute standing on the corner of the street. Your mom said to tell you that you were a bad lay, so she came to my place last night after you were done,” called Terry, one of the insufferable jocks; the people who got the most pleasure out of tormenting me and anyone else who had the misfortune to exist in the same school.

I just stared at the ground determinedly, seemingly immensely interested on the ugly grey and beige pattern of the floors tiling, ignoring his taunts and trying to will away the tears pricking my eyes. I’d been subjected to far worse at home than anything these empty headed, unoriginal brutes could come up with. I could take what they dished out, it just wasn’t easy like everything else in my life.

At least for now all Terry and the jocks were doing was calling names, I was in too much pain already to deal with another beating so soon after the last. Sometimes that was unavoidable, and I found myself the victim of two punishments in one day, or even three or four. It depended on who had gotten their jollies off in each circumstance, and often I found myself wishing that either they or myself would just go crawl into a dark corner and die.

Terry and his friends had a daily routine that begun with tormenting me and ending with...Hmmmm...Let’s see, well it would have to be tormenting me again. Great fun right? While I’m sure the jocks were having fun with this horrible and never ending pattern, on my end it was slowly driving me insane. It was just another thing to add to the life that was slowly driving my life down into a spiral of depression and anger.

This pattern had been continuing for as long as I could remember; the bigger, more muscled, richer kids always picking on me; the puny little runt. It wasn’t exactly fair, or even an equal match up, but that only seemed to make the whole situation even better to the jerks who harassed me. Each day I felt my sanity slip a little more, and I knew that one day I was going to fall of the deep end. When that day comes something big is going happen, I can only hope that I survive in one piece in the end.

The bell rang with a loud with the loud and continuous chink of metal hitting metal, and I rushed off to home room knowing that there would be trouble if I wasn’t perfectly on time.

I entered the room with my head down, keeping my gaze on the ground and away from those who would snicker and taunt if I gave them any opening. Whispers of the latest gossip and the inane giggles of girls with far too much time on their hands filled the room as the teacher bustled about behind his desk getting ready. I felt the pricking on the back of my neck that signaled there were many pairs of eyes following my path, and I didn't dare look up for fear of being confronted.

Ignoring the noise and putting it into the back of my brain I took my seat, away from everyone else, at the back of the room. Sitting down at a table on my own as I always did I threw my books on the desk and turned my thoughts to what I was going to write about today. I found it safer sitting at a table on my own. There was less chance of some teenage miscreant attempting to mess with me under the distracted eyes of a less than stellar teacher.

The teacher called the role, and as per my usual morning routine I answered quietly and began to write; a common past time for me. I had a routine, just like everyone else in this shit hole they called a school. It consisted of me taking my seat, answering my name when called, and then losing myself in the silent musings of a pen tracing across paper. A soul spilling lose its turmoil onto an unbiased ear.

That was my normal day.

What was unusual about today however was the tapping on my back while I was writing. It was unusual in more than one way; first of all was the fact that I didn’t have any of my usual jocks in home room so who would want to torment me in here, and secondly no one outside of the jocks would even touch me for fear of catching the disease of being a social outcast.

I turned to look behind me apprehensively and almost fearfully, afraid of who it might be. As I turned my gaze away from the paper laying on my desk I was confronted by the sight of a boy with black and blue hair standing behind me. The boy was tall and skinny, with a rather feminine face, a fact emphasized by his black skinny jeans and body hugging shirt.

To add a bit of flair to his otherwise rather ordinary, albeit rather form fitting clothes, he wore purple and black striped gloves that reached to his elbows. In this school, that outfit was tantamount to death, a small step up from being as much a social pariah as I was. I kept waiting for someone to come up behind the boy and throw a taunt or even an outright physical attack.

When nothing was forthcoming I continued my perusal of the figure standing next to me. The boy’s eyes were emphasized by eyeliner, thickly framing his startlingly blue orbs. They were the cerulean blue of the clear summer sky, unhindered by the flaws that normally graced blue eyes. There was no grey in the glittering cerulean orbs to dull the colour, or lend a tone of somberness.

His face was long and rather effeminate, a fact that he used to his advantage with the fresh emo look. The clean cut look was flattering, and he seemed to being drawing a few looks from the more artistic minded girls. In fact everything about the boy spoke of carefully complemented beauty. He was striking, and I couldn't help but wonder what he would be doing over here with me rather than sitting with the girls who were stripping him naked with their eyes.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit here with you?” The boy asked smiling softly at me and gesturing to the seat next to me with one hand, the other supporting the strap of his leather messenger bag.

“W-with me?” I asked uncertain if I had heard the boy right. I had to have been imagining an actual person wanting to sit next to me. It was made me more than a little suspicious that this stranger suddenly appears out of nowhere and wants to associate with me. I deliberated about it internally for a few moments but I decided since there was nothing they could do to me that they weren’t already doing the idea of the blue and black clad boy betraying me was stupid.

“Yes with you. You don’t mind do you?” The boy asked me, still smiling hopefully.

“Y-yes you can sit with me,” I stuttered quietly, looking away and blushing. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed with the amount of attention I was receiving, and the fact that I had been so enraptured with the boy that I had made him repeat himself so I could better understand.

The boy sat down next to me with a brilliant smile and leaned in close. The blush on my face became more pronounced as I tried not to look like an idiot and pull away from the boy who seemed to want nothing more from me than to be my friend. I'd never had a friend and I wasn't sure if being this close was something that was normal for friends. I was always alone, so really any amount of distance closer than a metre was too close for my taste.

“I’m Kaelan” he stated still smiling at me with a wide and dazzling grin.

Idly I wondered if he always smiled that much. God that must be exhausting; I don’t think I ever smile anymore, so how is it that this boy manages to smile like the world is all rainbows and sunshine? I just don’t get him. My jaw began to ache in sympathy as I studied the smile.

“Are you going to reply to me and tell me your name or do I have to guess what it is?” Kaelan asked me brightly.

“I’m Kyle” I replied blushing noticeably

“Well Kyle, it’s nice to meet you. Although with you looking down like that I haven’t really had a chance to meet you that well” Kaelan stated teasing me playfully as he reached down and gripped my chin softly pulling my face up so he could see it “You’re blushing, that’s just adorable”.

“I-I. Yes” I stuttered in embarrassment, my mind rejecting all other ideas of a reply, and spewing forth utter nonsense. I felt like I sounded so socially inept that Kaelan was going to see through my pretences and know that he was the first person I had ever really talked to for a space of time longer than five minutes.

At that moment the bell rang and I was saved the mortification of hearing what Kaelan’s reply to the drivel that poured from my mouth like a stream of regurgitated garbage. He smiled at me pleasantly, and I half expected one of those huge stars from really bad commercials to appear and glint in his teeth. The idea brought a hint of a smile to my lips and I could tell from the way that Kaelan was looking at me he had already realized that such a smile was a rare event for me.

"I'll see you later okay, probably not today though I still have to do all those stupid evaluation tests that they make you do to see where you are up to. I'm glad you let me sit with you," Kaelan stated his smile growing even brighter "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, same time same place?"

I smiled a little more at the joke and nodded as Kaelan left, watching as the bright blue and black that the boy was enveloped in faded into the crowd, swallowing the slip of colour in this world. Suddenly my day was that much brighter; life had an upside - I had a friend, an actual, real live friend who was going to hang out with me. I’d never had a friend before, since I’d always been the runty little loner kid, but I was going to enjoy every minute of it before the joke was over.

The rest of the day whizzed by, and before I knew it I had passed through all five periods, survived through lunch with only minor injuries and I was walking home to the land of the dead.

I was as quiet as possible entering the house that evening. I didn’t want to be punished again so soon. When I made it to my room without hearing the sound of footsteps thundering up behind me I knew I was safe for now. I sighed in relief as I quietly entered my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I crossed the room and dropped my bag on the floor skirting the spot in which I had received my punishment warily, almost as if by touching that spot it would trigger some kind of reoccurrence or flashback. I fell on my bed in exhaustion and slipped in a sleep haunted with dreams of punishment.

I was happy with the way things had gone today, the arrival of Kaelan adding a little light to my life. However there were still shadows looming ominously upon the horizon, darkening the light of my happiness and hanging oppressively overhead.
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Thanks for reading, also if you read the authors note then yay! Please R&R