COMING TO TERMS━━

ETHAN HAD BEEN BRUISED AND LEFT WITH THE VISIBLE AND MENTAL SCARS OR WOUNDS HIS FATHER had slit open with the roughness of his bare hands. Ethan had laid there for a while, thinking about his life and how different he could've grown up if he had been born from a different father or raised a different household. He didn't remember a time when his father had been this rough before, even if he counted up all of the memories and multiple times he had to clean wounds or cuts his father made, he didn't remember a time where his father was so incredibly rough in claiming his own son to be his. He felt small drops of blood dribble down the side of his thighs, yet he was too scared to move.

He had never bled internally before, not from this. Back when he was a kid his father made sure he was gentle with the frail skin, making sure every crevice of his body was worshipped and remained pale and clean as if his hands never touched him. When Ethan got older this all started to worsen, it started with light hits, some squeezes with his hand connected to his throat. But it seemed as if his father has finally realised something about himself, he enjoyed watching his son suffer more than anyone should, if you ever told anyone this day would be profoundly disturbed. That's why he made sure Ethan would keep his mouth shut.

"You tell anyone about this and I make sure I'll throw your mother out on the streets." His father hissed in his ear as he got up from the bed, throwing the boy a shirt he found lying on the ground, which, was probably an old dirty shirt but Ethan took it either way. Ethan wanted to speak up but his voice got stuck in his throat,

"Y-you can-can't do that!" Ethan argued, his eyes welling up with tears as he tried to imagine how hard his mother's life would be. He tried to ignore the numbing pain but he couldn't, as it was all that was causing the horrible aching. His father stared down at him, as if daring him to speak in that tone once again to him. Ethan immediately cowered, looking down at his exposed body. He felt the pain of shame ridicule him in his mind as he looked at the liquids that have been forced out of his body. It was both the mix of something white and his own blood, Ethan didn't even know what the white stuff was. The only thing Ethan knew was that his father had started calling him names when he did spill. He felt horrible, dirty, he didn't know what the white liquid was but it smelled bad and he didn't like it.

"I can, and I will if you don't keep quiet." His father replied. "This is our business, your stupid mother shouldn't have to know anything about this." He snidely remarked as he was grabbing a towel to cover himself, getting ready to shower. Ethan had never stopped crying during all of this, he was hiccuping slightly trying to control his breathing to not start another panic attack, he had come to realise that his father hated panic attacks.

"B-but daddy.. it hurts.." Ethan sniffed, his voice slightly cracking up as he tried to explain himself. His father merely rolled his eyes, but put on a sweet act.

"It's supposed to hurt, but you're a big boy E, I know you can handle it." He spoke in a gentle tone, he walked closer and gave the child a pat on his head. He offered the boy his most reassuring smile, as if he was convinced what he did was something normal. Ethan hiccuped and shook his head, still crying.

"Then why can't mommy know?" He asked, choking on thin air. The tears streaming down his face were creating a small puddle on his sheets which annoyed his father, knowing he would have to clean them.

"This is something only big boys do, girls don't know about this. It's how you grow big and strong, you wanna be strong right kiddo?" He asked, gently ruffling his hair. Ethan weakly nodded, knowing that that was the answer his father wanted, but he didn't want to be strong if this was the only way.

"Take a bath and it will wear off." He spoke weakly as he stood up straight. He passed before looking back at his son once again, "Just endure it till you are strong enough, once you're older you'll like it." He threatened. Ethan didn't even understand what the word endure meant. Ethan only nodded but he was truly dumbfounded.

He didn't understand what he had done wrong to deserve such treatment, his father had always spoiled him rotten with his own interests, he didn't understand why he had been so aggressive. Ethan was too young to understand.

Ethan stared dazed at the roof that he had previously painted over with a gentle coating of white to get rid of the smoker stains from the old owners. He wasn't really sure if he was there. He felt so disconnected from the world he was unsure if he was even real, he wanted to move and get ready but he felt exhausted. Every ounce of his energy had been drained out of his life, sucked out of it as if it had been a simple drop of lemonade from a glass. He looked around his room, his eyes slowly analysing the objects that had been in his rooms for months, unmoved and still, like he felt. He felt like an object, lifeless, only having purpose when a human puts purpose onto it.

He felt so disturbingly out of it.

If he hadn't been a virgin towards drinking alcohol he might had guessed this was how alcoholics felt, but Ethan didn't know how to feel. Ethan felt absolutely nothing. It was as if he was floating on his mattress, as if he was watching the world from a point of view that wasn't his. Ethan felt as if he didn't exist, and at sometimes he wasn't all too sure he did exist.

He felt a buzz from the side of his thigh, where his jeans had been roughly pulled off as if they were lightweights. Wordlessly he reached for his phone with the lightest touch of his fingertips, he knew he could move more but he just felt exhausted. He just wanted to lay in his bed forever, sink into the fabric and let his life fade as if it had never been one in the first place.

Despite the state of pain and somber he was he managed to crack a gentle, barely visible, smile that one could barely call a smile by the clear depressed undertone. Ethan couldn't help but smile whenever a message of Anthony's popped up, maybe that was a good thing, that way he would always have a gentle reminder life wasn't all that horrible. Even if your father would be deemed one of the worst people on earth.

Anthony
Js to let yk it's
kinda dark, my dad was
really worried so we
are always down to pick
you up if you don't have
a ride here!!

Ethan had totally forgotten about the project, he had also completely forgotten about the hour it was. At this point it could just turn out into a sleepover.

He quickly replied to the message, saying he would be ready in about an hour and then quickly shared his location. He quickly shut off his phone afterwards, despite the gentle hint of dopamine he had gotten from the singular, simple, text he received, it had left as quick as it came. He hesitated before gently pushing himself up with the bits of strength he still felt pulsing through his body. He ran his hands through his hair, he felt exhausted. He truly wanted to take a nap and disappear off of the earth forever, disappear from the planet that housed his awful example for a father.

He felt dramatic, he knew that this hadn't been the first time yet it felt as if he was experiencing it for the first time again. He felt utterly lost.

He ignored the awful feeling that had brewing in his stomach, creating a pit buried so deeply inside his guts it was as good as permanent. He exhaled weakly and headed over to the bathroom so he could clean himself up. His hand weakly trembled compared to his legs which, looked as if they were currently under electric shock, as it opened the door to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, he felt and looked disgusting. His entire body overall was drenched in fluids or sweat, his face was puffed up from crying with a gentle red glow on his eyes. He had a lot of bite marks covering all over his body from the neck down, he wasn't even going to try and look for them. He knew he was staring at his own reflection but all he could see was the familiar eyes he had gotten from his father, they were identical.

The only difference between them was his eyes looked at his body with pity, his father's eyes looked at him with lust.

He hated having his father's eyes, he hated anything that could have connection to his father. He just wanted to be a good person but he only saw his father stare back at him from his reflection.

A single tear slid down his cheek which Ethan ignored. He just wanted a shower, actually scrap that. He didn't think he could ever forget the hands that had pried open places one should keep private, he didn't think he would ever be able to forget them.

Fuck wanting a shower, Ethan wanted to die.

AUTHOR's NOTE

This time we can blame the angst on Drew!!
Drew is in a competition w me, guys the choice is
yours!! Sort of..

Do we kill Ethan at the end of this?