TW: Abuse and anxiety attack!

[7]

"Loser," he taunts, a smirk etched onto his lips.

I shiver when his finger trails along my collarbone, anger swirling around in his eyes. He's angry because I did something wrong. I did something punishable, something that he could use as an excuse to harm me.

"Scared already?" He mockingly wiggles with his eyebrows, "I didn't even start yet."

A cry of pain escapes my lips, when he pushes his hand into my stomach. I watch him closely, trying to figure out whether he is drunk or not. But before I can even register the stinging smell of alcohol that he breathes into my face, he punches me again. This time in the ribcage.

A sickly sounding crack echoes throughout the basement, followed by another cry of pain. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, before my head whips to the side. A metallic taste spreads in my mouth, whereupon I spit out the blood.

"You're such a loser. You shouldn't have ever been born, you know? I wanted your mother to abort you, but instead she ran away from me. When I brought her back home, you were already there. So, I had to take care fo the both of you," he snarls.

When I raise my head again, my stomach churns at the sight of a glimmering knife. The evil glint in his eyes intensifies and his eyes darken.

I violently shake my head and the anxiety rises in my throat, taking away the oxygen in my lungs.

"Please don't," I beg. "No. Please. Don-"

"Mr.Covington!" a voice yells, making me jolt up. I look around the room to find my classmates staring and snickering at me, whereupon I feel my face heat up.

"Mr.Covington, sleeping is not acceptable in my class!" my History teacher scolds.

Suddenly I feel knots forming in my stomach. My breaths come out ragged and the lump, that has formed in my throat, prevents me from getting enough oxygen into my lungs. I feel myself panic and clutch onto my chest, trying to stop the spreading pain.

I don't hear the voices around me, as I take off out of the classroom, my backpack swung over my shoulders. Due to my blurry eyesight it takes me longer to find my way to the entrance, but when I eventually get there, I slam open the doors and run across the front yard as if my life depended on it.

I hear cars moving and honking around me, but I just keep running. My chest tightens even more and my already blurry vision gets clouded by black dots. When I see an alleyway next to some shop, I run into it and throw my back against the wall.

"I-it's fine. He isn't here. He's. . .d-dead. Y-yeah, it's fine," I assure myself, but my shaky voice betrays me.

My heavy breathing still hasn't slowed down and I slowly start to fear passing out. It happened once, when I was so afraid when he kept on hitting my mother that I just blacked out, letting the fear overtake my body. When I woke up I was all wobbly and had a massive headache. It wasn't the most pleasant thing to experience.

Suddenly I hear a groan from further in the alley and my head snaps up. I look around me and try to adjust my eyes to the thin layer of fog, that has embraced the alleyway. When I hear another groan, the feeling in my stomach tightens.

"P-please, stop. . .," a voice whimpers. When yet another groan echoes through the walls of the alley, I take a small step into the direction of where the noises are coming from. I can make out some silhouettes, one guy standing or rather kicking something, and one guy lying on the floor.

"You attacked me first, bastard. So why should I stop now?" It's a deep voice, one that I'm familiar with. But I can't pinpoint where I know it from or who it belongs to.

"I-I just wanted to revenge my brother. . .," the shaky voice whispers.

I press myself further into the wall, forgetting about my still badly bruised shoulder. I hiss in pain when the cold brick wall makes contact with my in-goosebumps-covered skin. The voices turn quiet. I'm sure, that my rapidly beating heart is the only noise in the alleyway.

The standing person's head slowly turns into my direction and neither him nor I notice that the guy, who was moments ago curled up in a ball on the ground, runs away. When the only remaining people in the alley are me and the mysterious, violent guy, he takes a step into my direction, whereupon the light of a streetlamp illuminates one side of his face. My breath gets stuck in my throat when I recognize him almost immediately.

His black hair, a tousled mess; his eyes taking on a darker shade of brown; rings on both his hands, that are clenched into fists; and the black ink of several tattoos covering his knuckles and arms.

With every step he takes into my direction, his features harden further. I can almost feel the rage that is radiating off of him. I try to take off out of the alley, but before I could even move, he had already put his hands on either side of my head, pressing his palms against the brick wall. I swallow down the lump in my throat and cautiously raise my head.

The look on his face makes my eyes widen ever so slightly. The corners of his lips are quirked up into a smirk and his head is tilted slightly, while he intensely inspects my face.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" he inquires. "What is a straight A-Student doing here, all alone?"

I bite down on my lower lip and avoid his gaze, praying for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I feel his hot breath against my ear and squeeze my eyes shut. I don't like the proximity between us. I don't like how close he is, or how his scent - that of citrus mixed with a woody smell - floods my nostrils.

"Listen here nerd, last time I told you I would let you go since you're new. But I guess I haven't made myself clear enough." Before I can even comprehend what he means, he punches me in the gut. Hard. The impact of his fist colliding with some old bruises, makes me clutch my hand onto my stomach. I tighten my hold around my shirt and inhale sharply, as to not cry out in pain.

"Next time, I won't stop at just one punch," he threatens, his voice void of any emotion. I quickly nod my head and feel him break our proximity, whereupon the coldness embraces me. I don't open my eyes though. I just stay there, my hand pressed onto my stomach, listening to his retreating footsteps.

I open the door and carefully slip off my jacket, trying to avoid any painful contact with the new bruise that has formed on the right side of my belly button. I really doubt that my aunt wasn't informed of my absence today, so my steps are slow and dreadful as I make my way into the kitchen.

I went to a café around the corner after the encounter with Riku and practically skipped all of my lessons, but I didn't really care. Sure, there was this feeling of guilt nagging me in the back of my head, but it was easy to ignore in comparison to the pain in my stomach. I never knew a single punch could be this painful. Sure, I've experienced multiple beatings already, but I've never felt this crappy after one single punch.

Maybe it was because of the old bruises, that were still painting my skin in a purple-ish color, or maybe because I wasn't prepared for it. Anyhow, I need to be more careful, around violent people, around dark alleys and most importantly around Riku. I need to stay away from him.

Well, it's not like I intended to bump into him that first day, or that I wanted to meet him again two times in school. It's also not like I was hoping for him to find me, shortly after I almost had an anxiety attack in an dark alleyway, and punch me so hard in the gut, that for one moment I thought he crushed my intestines.

I sigh. When I slip through the door that leads to my aunt's sacred kitchen, I spot her sitting on one of the barstools, her legs crossed. As soon as I step into the room, her head whips around and she jumps up from her seat. I bite my lip.

"Where have you been?" she asks, worry written all over her face. "I've been so worried. Your school called. Why did you skip your classes? What on earth happened, Chester?"

I gulp visibly and reply, "I'm sorry. I just-- needed to get out of there."

Her features soften slightly at the apologetic look that has crossed my face and she sighs loudly, before she goes around the kitchen island and opens the refrigerator.

"You know, I know you won't just open up to me or Chloe or anyone, really. But I just want to help you, ok? Be sure you know that." I nod my head, although she can't see it.

"Anyway, upon today you and Chloe will take the bus home, yeah? I drove you only because you just moved and because the bus, that stops only a couple of meters away from our house, wasn't driving," she explains as she grabs some vegetables.

"Ok," I answer with a yawn and mentally curse for inhaling too much air, which resulted in me moving my stomach too much.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey there,

I know it's been quite a long time since I last published a chap, but I had a bit of a Writer's Block and didn't really know how to put my ideas into sentences, you know what I mean?

By the way, don't worry guys. You will find out more about the situation from in the alleyway in the next few chapters ;)

Anyway, what did you think about Riku's punch?

Stay safe everyone!

❤

- L I S A