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    Remijay
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Time Will Tell - 1. Chapter 1

Copyrighted ® (This story contains violence, sexual encounters and drugs… Under no circumstances do I condone violence or drugs. Any publically recognizable names, places, or surrounding, belongs to the author and owner of this story. This is story is not for sale or profitable. It’s purely for entertainment purposes.

If you feel that this story is not for you, or that it is too violent let me know. I am happy to neither accept nor reject any critics, criticism, advice, and or problems. Thank you, Remijay author and owner. Copyrighted ®

 

Time Will Tell.

Chapter 1

Part A

As I walk down this road heading back to my house, looking to the side of me, I saw orange, green, brown etc. colors laying there on the ground. I couldn’t help to feel that this could be my life soon, if my dad keepsbeating me. Still walking by the piled up leaves. I decide that I wanted to kick them, and that’s what I did. Leaves went flying everywhere, like raining confetti; it felt awesome twirling around like a stupid teen. Nevertheless, I felt free, as I wished I could be.

Once the leaves fell down around me in their disarray, it reminded me that my life could be like that as well. I shook my head as I walked away, leaving the mess I made for the homeowner to clean, bowing my head as I crept closer to my house. I knew this time would come. I’m already late, I wonder what my dad might do this time?

Yes my dad! Ever since my mother left, he has been beating me, not just with his hands either. He uses whatever is in sight or he can find to bring with him. If I don’t do what he tells me, when he tells me. I will get an ass beating or a punch in the face, a couple kicks in the ribs, and maybe cracked with an electrical cord, I really don’t want to get into a thinking challenge with my brain over what might come of this being late. I hate being late just for this reason.

I knew this time around with my father wasn’t going to be good, throughout the years of not having a mother figure around, I’ve learned as I turn my corner leading to my house, there stood my dad waiting impatiently by his 2007 grand Cherokee. My mind was telling me to turn around and run, but my body kept moving forward like on autopilot. To accept things as they come. My father and I never ever got along after my mother split and because of the beatings he gives me, I don’t blame myself either.

Part B- Beating and left!

 

It was raining outside that night, when my brother Josh and I were woken out of sleep. By my parents arguing or doing something that caused a lot of noise, we were kids ten years old. We didn’t really know what was going on. The next thing we knew my mother Cindy came into the room, shutting on the light. Yelling at Josh to get dressed and I to stay put, but I didn’t listen. I ran over to my mother and hugged her, she pushed me and backing up to cry even more, without looking at me. Cindy took josh’s hand and yanked him out my room, and that’s the last time I saw my brother on May 12th, 2005.

As the night went on and the house became quiet, I missed my brother Josh. I knew he would never return, and I missed my mother, I would miss those mornings or nights, and or the mid days when we would get home from school. My mother would always ask what went on in school or what we would like as a snack, I will always from now on miss those days and nights plus mid afternoons.

When I thought it was safe to sleep, after almost a whole night of wishing Josh and Cindy were here and not gone. My father Jake came bursting into my room, telling me to stand in front of him. Well like a son of that age, I had to do what he told me. After getting out of bed and standing in front of him, did he do something. He spun me around and made me bend over, where my ass was at his groin area. (And no he didn’t fuck me either Perverts.) After the light headed-ness wore off, I was bent over and waiting for my dad to finish his punishment on me that I didn’t even know I was in trouble for.

That was the first time my dad had ever beaten me, it started out with him and his belt. The one from part one, yea that one. Anyways, he started to hit me light, to see if I would scream and cry, well it paid off because I screamed bloody murder. As the beating went on and my body became weak and tired, but every hit of that belt made my body come back to life. I was afraid to even ask my dad to stop, with tears streaking up to my forehead and into my hair. I felt stupid that I couldn’t stand up to him, my ass felt numb after I think twenty hits with that titanium belt buckle, so I couldn’t move. My muscles were on fire from being made to hold this position.

End of flashback, back to present

Walking very slowly, almost creeping along just to prolong the inevitable that I knew was going to happen, I guess my dad didn’t liked how I walked because he met me half in-between. Gripping my neck with a vice like grip and making me walk faster for he could beat me until I said stop, even then didn’t help, my dad would get in these moods and lose it on me. I don’t even think he realized what he did until it was too late, still being pulled to my front door. I had a feeling that it was going to get worse before it even got better, once inside my dad shoved me into the nearby wall. Making me bang my head off it, it didn’t really hurt all that much, but the next part did. I heard my dad undo his thick leather belt, I knew this wasn’t going to end well for me, his belt had this titanium belt buckle. I remember one time when I was ten years old, my dad used it, my ass and my back wasn’t the same afterwards, I couldn’t even sit for a whole week. Now being older, and being used to this pain. I think I might be able to handle this one, I heard my dad step closer to me, I knew not to move or it was going to get worse. So, I stayed in place, wishing this part of the treatment was over. As my dad came closer, I flinched by accident and got one hell of a slap by him it stung like hell. I bit my bottom lip, just to keep from whimpering aloud. After that first hit with his hand, I didn’t move at all except for when he hit me with that belt. In all my fifteen years of living I never guessed my life to turn out this way, never guessed that my father would beat me for my mothers leaving. When the second strike came it hit my middle back, I arched my back and whimpered, that was a mistake because for the third time he hit me with the titanium buckle. Now if you think that it hurt, you were right. I screamed out in pain. My dad turned me around before saying.

“You fucking pussy you cant even take a little beating, I would have thought that I gave you some balls!” He stated by bitch slapping me across the face.

After that he stepped back to look at his work, I didn’t think I was his trophy that he had to beat, just for it to shine. I kept eyes cascaded down towards the floor, never meeting his, I guess he didn’t like that any because I heard him reach for something and that something just wasn’t what my body was use too. He threw my mothers flower vase at me, smashing it on impact. The vase hit my leg and broke, sending shards of glass towards my face, and chest. Cutting anywhere that skin shown, even wearing this semi new t-shirt didn’t protect me any. The stinging of the glass faded away after a couple of minutes, but I held back all the pain my dad decided I needed. Never really looking up at him, but he could tell that he did the damage that he wanted. Leaving me alone now, but not without a message.

“I’m going up to the bar now and when I come back THERE BETTER BE FUCKING DINNER MADE, AND THIS HOUSE CLEANED! GOT IT!” he yelled me before slamming door, signaling that he was gone. I waited long after I heard him turn on the car and back out of the driveway.

I don’t know how long I stayed on that floor, but I knew that I had to get up. Wiping the freshly new batch of tears that wanted to sneak out, getting up hoping that the shards glass still stuck in me wouldn’t hurt too badly. Reaching for the table to stable myself, my body screamed at me for getting up and making it move, I have been through this before but never like this. I wonder what I have done to make him hate me so much. I wonder why he takes his hate for my mother out on me, I just want to know why, why all this pain? Does he like to treat me like I’m a piece of shit? Do I remind him of his failure as a husband, so he takes it out on me? I will never know the answers to that in my head.

Getting to the stairs that lead upstairs, my body ached and screamed every movement I made, I wasn’t sure if my body could handle anymore. But I knew if I didn’t get this done, plus cook and also clean the mess my s.o.b (son a of bitch) dad made, that I would surely have another beating coming.

Sometimes when my dad goes to the bar and gets drunk, he doesn’t really care what he has done to me. If I show him any fear or that I didn’t do what he told me to do, there would be another beating coming very soon after.

 

~As the days go longer and the nights gets shorter~**~ I wonder how my life can get better~

I don’t know how I came to write this, its been awhile since I actually took a look, but this new experience will hopefully brighten my Horizons.

Thank you, to all that helped with making this chapter better. I still have more to write. So, stayed tuned! <3 Please either write me a comment, review, or email me at Gayjay0507@gmail.com.

Copyrighted ® (This story contains violence, sexual encounters and drugs… Under no circumstances do I condone violence or drugs. Any publically recognizable names, places, or surrounding, belongs to the author and owner of this story. This is story is not for sale or profitable. It’s purely for entertainment purposes.<br />If you feel that this story is not for you, or that it is too violent let me know. I am happy to neither accept nor reject any critics, criticism, advice, and or problems. Thank you, Remijay author and owner. Copyrighted ®
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This story is very hard to read. My parents were foster parents from the time I was about 16 and still are today. I like your style and I will continue to read it. I think the lettering of the parts is a little confusing to start but I am starting to get a better feel of it. Keep writing. I want to see what happens next.

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On 09/15/2012 07:20 AM, Carrie76 said:
This story is very hard to read. My parents were foster parents from the time I was about 16 and still are today. I like your style and I will continue to read it. I think the lettering of the parts is a little confusing to start but I am starting to get a better feel of it. Keep writing. I want to see what happens next.
:) Thank you for the review first off. And I'm glad that you like the story so far and my writing. I have to agree with alot of people, this story is very hard to read, and write. I love my characters. So you can just imagine what it takes to write it... Anyway, i have never had foster parents. But im glad to see that yours is doing fine/good. :) I hope i do see more of your reviews. Until next time i guess. Thank you once again for the review :) Remi
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B).........Very dark start, can't believe that his mother abandoned him to that hellhole.

 

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a terrifying introduction to Josh's brothers life - not knowing his name contributes to the depression a kid in this situation evokes. thanks for reminding us of the issues that some people, even as children, must face.

 

looking forward to reading the other chapters you have already posted.

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What a difficult chapter to read through. You have described a very troubling scene. How you describe the narrator's fear was done very well. The father's assault was brutal and hard to stomach. It's unsettling to know that s*** like this happens in this world, to children, teens, even adults. You wrote about someone in this world's lived experience, and if you've experienced anything like what this character goes through, I'm very sorry. 

 

- Bryant

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How could a mother leave one of her sons behind likely knowing what his dad would do to him. I don’t understand how she could love one son and clearly not love the other.

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