A/N: If I miss any triggers please tell me, loves. 🖤
TRIGGER WARNINGS: crying, glass shattering, getting hit, mentions of character death and loss of family member, mentions of not wanting to eat

Just like any other day, Virgil woke up three hours early, sore, and hurting. His stomach growled in hunger. He bit his lip. He knew he had to resist temptations.

He got up slowly and began to get dressed, putting on his hoodie, undershirt, and sweatpants. Jeans would be too tight around his wounds.

He tip toed to the bathroom, making sure not to wake his dad up with the squeaky floorboards.

He opened the bathroom door carefully, and stepped inside. He shut the door then turned the light on, almost hissing when he saw himself.

He grabbed his makeup kit.

Luckily, his father didn't really mind the fact Virgil wore makeup, because it covered up the marks he lands on him every day. He still screamed words of discouragement at him though.

After Virgil finished applying his makeup, covering all of his inflictions, he put his makeup away and walked downstairs.

He saw his mother on a stool, drinking some hot chocolate with lots of sugar in it because she doesn't drink coffee.

She looked up to her son and smiled widely. "Virgil sweetie! Hello darling, how was your morning?" She chirped quietly so she didn't wake up her sleeping husband, or startle her jumpy son.

"I know you don't eat breakfast, but i want to make sure my beautiful son is healthy and fed! So I made something small for you!"

His mother smiled and set a little bowl of oatmeal on the table, along with coffee.

'At least it isn't pancakes or something..' Virgil thought.

Virgil was kind of scared his father would find out. But oatmeal was one of his favorite things to eat that didn't make him feel like he was the fattest thing on earth.

His mother turned back to the stove to make bacon and eggs for her husband.

Virgil cautiously and slowly ate the oatmeal. By the time he was finished with the oatmeal, he was pretty full despite how little food the oatmeal was.

But he still downed the coffee.

He sighed in content. His mother placed the finished scrambled eggs and bacon on the table after putting them on a plate just as her husband came stumbling down the stairs.

Virgil's mother quickly grabbed Virgil's empty oatmeal bowl and washed it.

"Oh, honey! I hope you don't mind bacon and eggs! I had to get something quick ready for you before going to work! Which I should be going to right now, your food is on the table dear, goodbye! Enjoy your days!" She smiled quickly, rushing to hug her son and kiss her husband before rushing out of the door to work.

Virgil nervously took a sip of non existent coffee from his empty cup, and watched his father eat as soon as his mother left.

His father soon finished his eggs, stood up, grabbed Virgil and threw him against the wall. He looked at the clock.

"5:54. I have some time." He said, smirking and grabbing a dazed Virgil off the floor.

His father finished his bacon, then dragged Virgil by the neck down the basement and threw him on the ground.

He grabbed a bottle of Vodka and took a shot. He kept hurting his son while taking long shots of his bottle.

Once he finished the bottle, he screwed the lid back on, held it by the slim part, and smacked Virgil over the head with the bottle, the glass shattering on impact with Virgil's skull.

Pieces of glass slammed against the ground, surrounding both of them.

A muffled scream came from the now silently crying boy.

Each time he let a sob out, that was another smack, which reddened his pale makeup-covered face.

The pain from the impact kept making screams crawl up Virgil's throat, some sadly, escaping his lips.

He soon passed out from the shock, pain, and fear.

When he woke up, his father was towered over him, hitting him with a bat.

Virgil noticed he had many more marks than before.

Virgil got up and ran out of the house, his father chasing after him while throwing every random item he could find at his weak son.

"Go get lost in the woods and die like Emily did you useless piece of sh-"

Virgil didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He blocked his father out. He started crying all over again at the mention of Emily.

He was always blamed for his little sister's death.

He ran to where the bus came to pick him up, and somehow wasn't late.

His tears were ruining his makeup, his bruised face now exposed.

He ran into someone with a thud.

"Woah babes what the fu- oh."

'Remy' Virgil thought to himself.