Caution: Very disturbing content ahead, please do not read if you are easily disturbed.

I plastered myself against the wall, clenching my little hands together tightly, a sob jerking through me. His large fist came pummelling down onto the soft skin of her cheek, and she stumbled backwards, trying to run. To lead him out of the room, but he grabs onto her long soft caramel coloured hair, tugging her backwards and to his chest. His arm locks around her pale slender throat, the inner side of his elbow digging into her barely healed skin. A choked sound escapes her parted lips, as she flails around desperately, her leg accidentally hitting him as she kicks backwards making him drop her. Dropping on all fours she pants harshly, trying to crawl away from him but he grabs onto her leg pulling her back towards him.

He picks her slender body up easily, hoisting her up by the collar of her light purple dress, before dropping her back down. A slight oomph escaping her lips as she drops. She always tried her best not to let out any sounds, always trying to protect me from hearing her pain. His leg swings backwards before kicking forwards, connecting with a loud crunch to her ribs, and she flies backwards into the wall.

She curls in on herself, breathing deeply through her nose, trying her best to calm her desperate panting, but he doesn't give her a break. Kicking once again, this time aiming for her lower stomach, and her eyes clench shut as her body jolts with the blow. He bends down to her, and despite her state her breath halts completely as he grabs her soft thin jaw in his hands. His fingers digging deep into the soft pale skin, as he roughly pulls her head up to face him.

"Next time I tell you to do something, you do it, got that bitch?" He snarls, waiting for a response, sneering angrily when he doesn't get one. He lets go of her face, kicking her stomach once again as he heaved himself back up, before he turns. His dark beady grey eyes land on mine and my own widen as I stare at him in fear. I clench my stomach inwards as my breath halts in my chest, only releasing when he releases me from the hold of his cold gaze, and turns away walking back out into the living room.

My eyes land back on her, connecting with the soft green of hers, and she gives me a weak smile, reaching her hand out to me, she beckons me closer gently. I walk towards her slowly, wincing as she struggles to pull herself up to sit leaned against the wall, where the mint green wallpaper is peeling off. I come to stand before her my lower lip trembling as tears leak down the soft skin of the apple of my cheeks. She grabs onto my hand, tugging ever so gently and I fall down onto my knees before her.

"A-are you okay momma?" I question a sob escaping me, and her sweet sad smile melts into a frown as she wraps her hands gently around my small waist, pulling me towards her. Her hands reaching out to gently wipe the tears away from my eyes. She leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
"I'm fine baby." She says softly, her sweet melodic voice ringing gently in the silence of the room, the only sound other then the television he had probably switched on.

"Don't cry darling, momma's absolutely fine, I promise. You're momma's strong boy aren't you?" She asks and I nod frantically and she chuckles softly, pulling me into her to press a kiss to my soft cheek. I had just recently turned six, I was definitely old enough to be momma's strong boy now.

I stand up, holding my hands out to her and she smiles at me weakly, putting her soft warm slightly calloused hands in mine, allowing me to help hoist her up.
"What a gentleman you are." She says and I blush, digging my face into the soft cotton of her dress and she chuckles. Grabbing onto my hand she leads me out of the hall, limping slightly as we walk to her room.

She sets my small body on the thin mattress of the bed, and my eyes land on the purple bruises on the pale skin of her jaw, making me frown. My eyes beginning to water again but suddenly her fingers make their way to my sweater, pulling it up slightly as her long thin fingers dance against the skin of my sides. A loud giggle like shriek escapes me as she continues her tickle attack, and a soft giggle escapes her as she shushes me, finally stopping her relentless tickling.

I loved when she laughed, she always tried to stay happy around me, but her laugh was the best of rewards. Momma always smiled, but it wasn't always real. Her beautiful green eyes often held pain and sadness, and I hated it. Eyes that beautiful should glow with happiness, but hers were always kind, but never truly happy. I look up into the soft hazel and green swirl of her eyes, still giggling and she smiles at me ruffling my hair playfully. Her eyes always turned more green in the winter, and now with autumn nearing its end they were striking against her soft fair skin. She was so very beautiful, her soft caramel curls that hung down her back, small dainty nose, fair skin, and the eyes that despite their lack of joy were so kind and deep. They reminded me of the forest, a mix of green and hazel.

"Will you wait here while momma goes to freshen up?" She asks softly, leaning back up, her hand discreetly going back to her ribs.
"Yes momma." I answer and she smiles.
"You're such a good boy, my sweet little Xavier." She coos, nudging my chubby cheek softly and I smile up at her, watching her as she limps towards the washroom.

-------------------------------------------------------
"I'm so sorry baby." She mumbles gently, dabbing gently with the warm damp cloth at the bruise on the corner of my lip.
"It's okay momma." I answer, it was never her fault, his actions couldn't be blamed on her. He was a sick bastard who relentlessly abused his wife and child, that wasn't her fault. She was a victim of his cruel torment, my fellow inmate per say.

A few nights ago, after a long shift he'd stumbled in completely drunk, so drunk that he'd attempted to pin his sheriffs badge on to my chest, although even intoxicated he was a sick bastard, he'd ripped half my shirt. Trying to pin the badge onto my bare skin, before my mom had led him away from me. With the promise of scotch. He'd looked as if he'd be out for hours, we'd packed our bags quietly, escaping in the dead of the night, but it just so happened one of his sick friends had been patrolling that night, in the cruiser. He'd caught us, throwing us into the back of his dirty cruiser, and I'd earned myself a hard punch in the face when I'd ripped his wandering hands off of my mother.

"I'd really hoped the bruise would have faded by your birthday, you do always heal so quickly, it must have been worse than I thought. Your fourteenth birthday and you go to school with a busted lip and a black eye. My poor sweet baby, you don't deserve this at all." She says, tears filling her beautiful green eyes, always so sober, filled with sorrow but so very beautiful, like the depths of the forest. She was always a bit more emotional after our attempts of escape, she was a strong spirit even after years of torture she refused to give up.
"You don't deserve this either, but I'm going to get you out of it one day, and I am going to build you a gigantic beautiful mansion. Fit for a queen. We'll be so happy." I tell her, and she smiles, raking her slender calloused fingers through my hair gently.
"I know you will Xavier, I know you will." She says pressing a soft kiss to my head.

"Now my sweet little chef, let's get baking, there's no birthday without a cake, and I wouldn't exactly mind if you helped me cook. Personally I think you're getting better then me." She says making my eyes widen as I look up at her, we always cooked together, it was my absolute favourite. She was so very calm while cooking, far away from all the problems. Spiritually we were free from our cage as we cooked, reciting and correcting recipes together, giggling as things went wrong, grinning at each other when our new additions were welcome. Even arguing over silly little things like spices, it was all wonderful. She'd sway gently as she hummed, when he hadn't been home, she'd even be as cheerful as to put a tape into her record player, and spin me around as we worked around the kitchen. Although recently it wasn't me doing the spinning, physically I took after him, I was already taller than her. Outside of our little cooking ventures there was no escape, he was part of the possible help, the head of the police department. His perverted friends all in various positions of authority, there was nobody to call for help. Nobody to rely on to help us escape, his reputation was impeccable, people thought of him as the fair handsome sherif with the beautiful wife and son. But appearances were so very deceptive. We were stuck nobody would believe us, nobody would free us, he'd made sure of that.

She taught me all she knew about cooking, and it became our passion, one day I would become a grand chef, and I would take her far away from it all. I'd give her the life she deserved, all the luxuries she'd missed out on, the meals she'd sacrificed so that I could eat, I'd give them all to her. We'd travel the world, trying food from all around and adding new things to our own recipes. I'd take her so far away from him, that she wouldn't ever have to worry about laughing quietly, never would her soothing humming stop. I wouldn't let him near us again.

I reached for the few sweet ingredients she'd hid in the top shelves, away from him. In his drunken stupor he didn't like to work for things only grabbed what was before him. Secretly she'd saved up and gathered the ingredients needed to bake my favourite chocolate cake. Hiding them away at the top shelves of the little kitchen. He didn't give her a lot of money, most of his income went towards alcohol, although publicly his excuse was donating to charity.
"Xavier I-I have something to tell you." She said softly and I turned to her, setting down the chocolate bar in my hands.

"Honey I'm expecting, it's just a hunch but I think you are going to have a little sister." She says softly, curling her lips inwards nervously as she stares at me.

"Momma that's amazing." I say, looking down at her still flat stomach through the loose dress she wore. I was going to have a little sister, a tiny little one to protect, to teach all I knew. Somebody to play with, to speak to. The other children didn't like me, I was strange to them. A bit too mature, too queer, boys my age didn't like cooking, they liked rough sports. But I didn't take to violence kindly, I didn't find it playful I found it horrid, suppressive, fear inducing. I was taller than most boys my age so for the most part I was left alone, but that wasn't entirely pleasant either.

"But we can't live here with him, we can't, if she's going to be here we can't stay with him." I say, and she nods.
"We're going to find a way out, I have a friend who I spoke to, she can probably get us tickets to someplace far away, someplace he will never find us. We just have to save up, in these few months." She says and I nod rapidly, I could maybe even work at the school cafeteria for extra money.

"Now let's get this frosting done, eat the cake while you still can by yourself. Cause once she's here she's gonna take all your chocolate cake, and you'll give it to her yourself." She says playfully taping my nose and I nod sadly I could just feel it. I was going to be putty in that baby's pudgy little hands.
"I know." I say glumly making my mom giggle softly.

We'd just taken the cake out of the oven and begun to frost it, when the dreaded voice sounded from the door. His loud deep baritone a stark contrast to the sweet gentle one of hers. They were opposites, but far too opposite, evil and kindness, cruel and gentle.

"Evelyn." He yelled, making her shoulders tense through the soft white cotton of her dress that flowed freely against her slender frame. My eyes widen as I hear more than just one pair of footsteps making their way towards the kitchen.

"Hide it." My mom mouths to me and I nod quickly. Opening up the rusted little oven and shoving the frosting bowl and the cake in there, throwing the chocolate covered appliances into the sink and running water over them.

My heart begins to beat tenfold in my chest as he makes his way into the kitchen, his dark sherif's uniform taut against his large frame, hair that reassembled mine in its dark silk, gelled back neatly. His beady dark grey eyes settling on my mother, and narrowing. His other coworkers barrelled into our small kitchen, smirking darkly at my mother making my stomach twist. Their beady eyes roaming all over her frame making my fists clench as she stood with her back straight, not looking away from the dreadful man who was unluckily my biological father. The man that looked almost identical to me. It always sickened me, we even had the same horridly depressing eye colour, grey. The colour of the dreadful clouds that blocked out the sunlight. Although my mother always told me my eyes were like silver, while his were a rusted cooking pot.

"Prepare me and my friends some drinks and something to eat, and keep that slimy little bastard away from us will ya?" He asks turning to head into the living room, but hearing one of the men behind him speak making him halt in his tracks.

"Your wife's looking mighty fine as always Peter." One of the constables behind him spoke up, Alexander was his name, he was the worst of them all in his leering of my mother.
"That's all the bitch is good at, looking good, isn't it sweetie?" He asked making me clench my teeth together furiously but my mother shook her head at me discreetly, going to walk away, but Alexander swung his arm around her waist, tugging her into himself forcefully. His hands squeezing painfully tight onto her waist as she struggled to push away from him. My father let out a huff, simply turning his back and walking to the mini bar he'd converted one of the cabinets to.

"Let go of her." I snarled at the man, pushing myself off the oven and making my way towards them.
"No Xavier." She said sharply, her dainty nostrils flaring as she stared at me sternly. She absolutely despised me being near his friends, especially speaking to them. The man let out a snort as he pushed my mother away from him roughly, and she tumbled backwards, catching herself on one of the chairs behind her.
"Lets go." She said to me quietly resting her hands on my shoulders to steer me out, but a sharp voice had her halting before she tried to push me quicker.

"Where's my scotch Evelyn?" He asked sharply, crossing the short distance between us, and she pushed me quickly, and unexpecting, I stumbled away from her.
"You drank it all Peter." She said calmly and he raised his brows at her, standing calm for a moment, but that was his game lunge at the prey as soon as it let its guard down. He lunged at her out of a sudden wrapping her caramel curls around his fist and tugging them sharply.
"Well who's responsibility is it to get more?" He roared, and she swallowed thickly standing stiffly.
"I'll go get you some." She said quietly.
"With what money you dumb slut?" He asks.
"I spent all my money feeding that stupid son of a bitch, maybe I should just sell him for my scotch." He says sinisterly and my mother's eyes widen as she shakes her head at him.

"Who'd buy your son Peter, but you know what someone would buy, that hot piece of ass you've put a ring on. I wouldn't mind being her first customer. What do you say baby?" He asks looking my mother up and down and she turns her face away from him, her pale fists clenching the material of her cotton dress. His friends always said horrible things to her and he let them, but they'd never been able to touch her. Her green eyes widen at the words that come out of her poor excuse of a husband's mouth.
"How much?" He grits out.

"However much you ask for, we can decide the price later I'm just dying to see what's under that dress." He says, eliciting a chuckle from the two men that stand behind him. My eyes dart from my father back to my mother, we weren't religious, but there my heart prayed for the upper power to help my mother.
"Fine, but you have to pay." My father says, and my heart drops. A cruel smirk comes onto Alexander's filthy face his dark eyes filling with glee, round face widening with the dirty smirk.  He makes his way to my mother, stopping midway he turns back to the men behind him.
"You guys in, but you'll have to pay for yourselves." He says and they nod eagerly making my father snort.

"No Peter you can't do this." My mother pleads.
"And why not, you think I don't smell that damn chocolate I know you've been baking. Where'd you get that money huh you slut, you could've bought me scotch with that but you didn't, so now you pay. Well sort of." He says smiling at his own moronic pun.

"I'm pregnant Peter please, I'm pregnant with your baby, don't do this." My mother yells as their dirty hands wrap around her and they begin tugging her away to the only bedroom of the tiny house. I dart forward, but the familiar rough hands of my father grab me roughly by my collar, his large fist slamming into the back of my throat, making me cough.
"Leave him alone." My mom yells as they drag her into the room, her bare feet skidding against the cold floor, nails breaking with the force she's exerting to get away from the men. Blood leaving a light trail from where they confine her.
"Peter please." She yells loudly, but that only eggs him on and he grabs my head roughly, slamming it into the wall beside me, slamming it again as her shrill scream fills my ringing ears. I had to get to her, I had to help her, they'd kill my little sister, defile my poor mother. I had to get to her, for once I had to save her. Black dots invade my vision as my head throbs, the sounds of her screams ringing through me. Despite how quiet the noise was, the sound of the door locking reaches me, filling me with absolute dread. They had her imprisoned. 

Despite the pain I fight, I fight for her. Wiggling roughly, I somehow manage to get him to loosen his grip on me. Grabbing his shirt I force him to bend, my knee connecting harshly with his nose making him groan out. He reaches out for me, grabbing onto the dark strands of my hair and he tugs roughly, sharpening the existing pain in my head. I let go of him as the pain intensifies, and he pushes me back roughly sending me flying into the wall.

He stalks towards me, kicking me, his leg connecting with my own as I curl in on myself.
"You can't help your bitch of a mother, you weakling." He snarls at me, kicking me again before he walks off back to the cabinet of alcohol. Grabbing the nearly empty bottle of cheap wine he pours it into a glass, taking a swipe from the bottle before putting it back and sipping from the glass.

His back turned to me, he's unable to see when I force myself back onto my feet, leaning on the wall for support. My mothers screams for mercy had long stopped, they clearly hadn't been working on the heartless men her husband had sold her off to.

I creep towards him quietly, grabbing the empty bottle of scotch he'd put on one of the counters before. I raise it over his head, crashing it down with all my force onto the back of his head and the thin glass shatters pitifully. His loud choked groan all that's hard before he falls to his knees clutching his head. I don't waste a moment, running towards their bedroom, I rattle the doorknob despite knowing it was locked.

My mother's loud sobs, sending me into a panicked frenzy. It sounded as if she couldn't stop, as if she was hyperventilating, their shuffling and groans resounding through the thin door. I stumble back, preparing myself as I run ramming my shoulder roughly into the door, but it only moves slightly. I try again, receiving no better result. The key to the room was inside, in the chest where my father stupidly kept it. I look around frantically searching for something to help me break down the door and get to my mother.

My eyes land on the still body of my father, his hand reddened with blood from the wound I'd given him rests beside his holster. He was still in uniform, he hadn't even taken his gun out yet. Running towards him I drop to my knees beside his body, pulling out the gun, of its holster. Taking off the safety the way I'd seen my father do numerous times as he threatened to shoot my mother or myself. I dart back for the door, aiming it at the lock, pulling the trigger the loud sound of the bullet connecting with the metal drowning out all else for a moment, nearly deafening me.

Throwing the door open, tears fill my eyes at the sight of Alexander on top of my mother his pants and boxers in his ankles, her dainty wrists held within his large hands , her legs tied to the bed, as he does as he pleases to her. His motion completely halts as he looks back at me, quickly getting off of my sobbing mother, he pulls his trousers up. My mother's shaking hands, pulling at the seams of her torn dress as she tries to cover her bruised body up.

Swallowing thickly I clench my jaw, stepping shakily into the room, blinking rapidly to rid my eyes of the tears. My bottom lip trembles, a slight whimper escaping me as winces while she reaches to untie her bound legs.
"Untie her." I bark at one of the other men, keeping my gun pointed towards to the man I'd seen defiling my mother. The man rushes forward, but Alexander speaks up stopping him in his tracks.
"Don't bother, he won't do anything, and this was only my second turn, you haven't even gotten to her yet." He says cocking his head towards the other men who stands leaned against the wall. Fiddling nervously with his thick fingers, his light blue cloudy eyes darting to me and to the door.

"Now or I shoot." I say trying desperately to keep my voice from cracking and the man darts forward despite Alexander's groan of discontent to untie her. My mother shakily gets off the bed, clutching at her dress, she looks at me tiredly, tears streaming down her pale face. Her lip busted almost matching mine, but blood caking it, it looked as if they'd punched her and then bitten her bruise. Her greenish brown eyes puffy, one turning black. Blood coating her white dress in various places, purple hand prints showing clearly against her fair blemish free skin. She begins to limp towards me, but stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening at what she saw behind me.

"Xavier look out." She screeched and I whirled around, to see my father running at me with a glass bowl. Ducking away from him, I watched plastered against the doorway as he stumbled into the room, nearly colliding with one of his friends.

"Drop the gun boy." Alexander grudges out, in my moment of panic he'd managed to wrap his large hand around my mother's slender throat, the other holding a gun to the side of her head. The front of it, pushing against the messed up caramel silk of her hair.
"Drop it or I shoot." He threatens. I drop the gun hearing it's metal clatter against the hard wood of the floors.

"You stupid ass." My father says, grabbing me by my collar and shoving his fist at my bruised lip ripping it open again. A sharp gasp comes from my mother as he hits his knee roughly into my thin stomach.

"Stop it please." She begs, fighting to get away from Alexander but he tightens his grip on her throat, her pleas getting choked slightly and he whispers something into her ear which makes her cringe. She stills completely and I watch her in confusion, but the men don't care. They simply egg my father on, asking him to hit me in various inhumane ways, some he tries, and yet my eyes stay on my mother.

Her thin elbow suddenly darts back hitting Alexander squarely in the ribs and he lets out an oomph, but she doesn't give him a chance to recover, stomping harshly on his foot with her own she wrenches away from him. Slapping him harshly once she faces him.
"You sick bastard let go of my son." She screams at my father, tugging at his hands that still hold onto the nearly completely torn material of my sweater.

I nearly don't register the two men that run out of the room from beside us, my eyes only landing on their back as I see them run towards the only door of the house across the hall. The light from outside filling my vision before it's gone, the door slamming shut behind them. I see Alexander getting up from the corner of my eye, and I pull away from my father roughly intercepting his path to my mother. He stares down at me with beady dark eyes, the sounds of my mother restraining my father almost far behind us as I stare into Alexander's cruel gaze. He'd always gazed at my mother too long, had wandering hands but he'd gone too far today, so far I didn't know if she'd ever be the same.
"You vile mutt, how dare you?" I say through gritted teeth to the man before me and he doesn't answer, the back of his hand connecting roughly with my cheek. My head flies to the side but other than that I don't move. Only turning back when I hear a loud ricocheting sound from behind me.

My mother pants above my father, holding the barrel of the gun and he clutches his head, snarling at her. Lunging for the gun he reaches for her bruised throat, squeezing roughly making her drop the gun. He points it at her and I feel my blood run cold, he'd done this before but never had he been so furious, never had his eyes been so void. Something was different tonight. I barely register Alexander as he pushes me forwards, running out the door, not even sparing us a single glance in his hurry to get far away from the soon to be in-disclosable crime scene.

My father tilts his head sinisterly, before shifting his aim from my mother to me.
"I'm not going to kill you, I'm going to kill him, I know you love him, I'm going to make you live knowing your son is dead. Knowing he died because you just couldn't be a good compliant little bitch. Or even a good enough mother as to teach your son not to question his own father's actions." He says to her calmly.
"Please." She whispers brokenly, getting off her knees she inches towards him.
"Stop right there or I'll shoot." He roars.

Swallowing thickly she stops, swinging back on her heels for a moment and my father relaxes slightly. But he didn't know his own game well enough. Right as he turns his attention to me she lunges at him grabbing the barrel of the gun and twisting it away from me and towards herself. My eyes widen as I see his finger press down on the trigger right as she twists the gun, my eyes following the bullet as it makes its way towards her chest, embedding itself within her fair skin. Her blood soaking the soft white material of her cotton dress.

An anguish filled scream reaches my ears, and blindly my hands grab onto a gun my own blood pumping through my ears as my eyes stay on my mother. Looking away from her only momentarily I point the gun Alexander had dropped to my father's head, pressing the trigger three individual times I watch the bullets find their mark. He drops back, lifeless almost instantaneously.

The gun drops  from my hands and I drag myself to my mother. Wrapping shaky hands under her head I pull her head gently onto my lap.
"I'll-I'll call an ambulance just hold on momma." I say darting my hands over my father's pockets trying to find his phone.
"No baby, it'll be too late." She says softly.
"N-no, momma you're going to be fine, please no, just let me c-call the ambulance. Just hold on." I say shakily my hand wrapping around a rectangular object and I yank the phone out of his breast pocket.
"No Xavier listen to me." My mother says, wincing as she tries to sound stern.
"I love you so much baby, so much but I can't hold on, I don't want to." She mumbles her eyes fluttering shut as she speaks.
"No please no." I whisper frantically but her head lolls back lifelessly, a small sad smile coming onto her face, as she gazes up at me.
"I love you." She whispers quietly, her whole body going slack as her beautiful green eyes loose all light, the small smile still in place as her lifeless gaze stays trained on me.