A/n Warning! This contains violence, though my writing isn't that good, you may still end up imagining. If you are afraid of violence I suggest not reading. If you don't want to read it, click the comments and see the summary. Thanks! 

Sebastian POV.

I wake up. Not in reality. In a dream. No in a flashback.

"Sebastian Smythe, you're a disease, an idiot. You should be normal, not...." He hits me, over and over again. He wants to kill me, I see it in his eyes. He hates me. I remember this. I had just come out. Out of the closet. 

"You are a disgrace. Be normal be straight." He punches me over and over again. I hear ringing in my ears. The sound of a fist against my flesh. 

"Daddy?" His head turns. I know who it is. Samantha. 

"Get out girl."

"The water, the pot is making a squeaky noise." She whimpers. 

His head turns back to me with a grin. Not a happy grin. The evil kind. He shakes out his fist and walks out the door. 

"Sam... Samantha." I groan. I inhale a sharp breath. I'm pretty sure he broke a rib. Maybe two. "Get out. Get out if the house. Go to the...." I think for a bit. Who? The Andersons are across the street. I used to play with their son. Blaine Anderson. "Go across the street knock on Blainey's door, okay?" 

"Okay, what about you?" She has tears in her eyes. I know this is my fault. 

"Get help. When they let you in. Ask for the police. Say that Seb's in trouble, okay?"

"Okay.." She runs down the stairs. 

I try to get up. Everything hurts. Way too much. 

He comes back up. With a pot of boiling water. 

"This is your fault, I'm just gonna straighten you out."

 He pour the water, boiling hot water onto my leg. I don't know what happened but suddenly the glasses on the nightstand break. I scream so loud I swear the dogs in the neighborhood across the street heard it. 

"Shut up little dimwit." \

He pours some of the water on my other leg. More screaming. Louder this time. I choke and fail to breathe. My throat hurts. Tears fall from my face. I groan louder than I ever had before. 

He never did this. Usually it was a few punches and kicks, maybe throwing a book or two. Sometimes the belt hits my back. But never did it hurt this bad. 

He dumps the rest of the water on my chest. Imagine had running for 10 hours. Never stopping. Then being baked in an oven. Set to the highest temperature. That's not even half of the pain I feel. 

"I should kill you, you useless piece of trash." He presses his foot to my chest and continues adding pressure. I shriek and groan. I'm barely conscious at that point. My eyes droop. He punches me in the face as if trying to wake me up. 

"Wait here." He growls.

 I almost laugh. Does he really think I can move? I try anyway, but instantly regret it. I bite back more tears. 

He returns with his gun. I'm gonna die. Right here, right now, in my mother's room. 

He laughs. "This will help you, never think like this again." To frighten me, he clicks the bullet into the chamber. And fires to the left of my body. I flinch so hard I move a few inches. I sob and I refuse to stop.

 "Stop it." He growls. 

He clicks another bullet. He aims and fires. 

I shriek louder than I ever had. I scream and cry. I kick my legs. 

 Blood spills onto the carpet. I can't move. 

He shot me.