|Pain's Not Always Bad
Author: firestar267 PM
He gazed at me, surveying the damage as I lay battered and bruised and it was then, after I looked into my best friend's eyes, I realised. I have to change. This is how he saved me. One Shot. [Rated to be safe for violence.]Rated: Fiction M - English - Angst - Words: 1,191 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 4 - Published: 02-27-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2325948
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: I don't actually know lol. This just kind of came to me and I thought meh why not? I don't actually like it a lot, and I think it feels a bit odd and out of place, the ending also sucks lol. But I would appreciate your reviews and id like to hear what you think of it. Thanks, as always for reading and even more so, for reviewing! xxx
I clenched my eyes shut as I was forced into the wall by the scruff of my neck, my head collided with its hard surface and even though my eyes were shut, I saw stars.
All my remaining breath was forced out of me by a brutal blow to the stomach and I was allowed to fall to the floor, gasping in agony. Whilst I was trying to decide whether or not I should throw up from that nights alcohol intake or faint I felt a tight grip being placed on my hair. With such force my hair was almost ripped from my scalp my head was forced up where my eyes meet that bastard's flashing blue eyes.
He gazed at me, surveying the damage as I lay battered and bruised, never loosening his grip.
"Do you fucking get it yet?"
I forcibly looked up into the maniac's eyes yet again and I suddenly felt hatred towards my captor. I held my gaze, as strongly as I could, desperately searching my best friends face for an answer. I found none.
How fucking dare he? How dare he do this to me? Randomly start to beat the shit out of his friend for nearly eight years now. What the fuck have I done?
Do I really mean that little to him?
This thought, ridden and dripping with sadness that was, if possible, even more overwhelming than the pain, gave me strength; strength enough to wheeze "Fuck…You…"
He sent me a somewhat pained expression before punching me in the face. Almost seconds after this I was offered a distraction from my searing jaw line as my stomach was kicked repeatedly. Finally my body was drowned in flames of sheer pain I could no longer deal with.
I couldn't bear it any longer. "S-stop" I rasped. Fuck I'm pathetic.
The last thing I can recall was being dragged somewhere - I don't know where, I was lifted up onto something soft and locked in the dark room alone, never having the will, nor the ability to fight back or move. Finally, I passed into the realms of the subconscious after hearing the door slam shut, my captors load shout of rage and my own weeping, I was safe, and with that knowledge firmly in mind, I finally passed into darkness.
When I woke my eyes felt heavy, almost as if they were glued shut and although I couldn't instantly understand what had woken me, I knew it wasn't of my own free will, and boy did I want to go back to sleep…wonderful painless, innocent sleep.
It seems that it was my bastard excuse for a best friend who had woken me as he was kicking the door – much like he had me last night, in an attempt to wake me up. I finally pried my eyes opened but instantly regretted it as I saw he had drawn the curtains causing bright light to dizzyingly flood my mind.
He looked as livid as I felt.
He shoved a bucket at the side of my bed with a curt "here" and sat on the floor opposite me saying "if you think that all of the pain you're feeling right now is because of me then you're fucking wrong. I hope it's the hangover from hell."
"You're the fucking friend from hell" I grunted, leant over, threw up expertly into the bucket and collapsed back into the covers of the blood and sweat stained bed as it killed me too much to move.
He looked hurt but somehow found it inside himself to cross over the room and backhand me round the face anyway. I hissed as I felt blood begin to seep into my mouth. With all my remaining strength I managed to sit up into the bed and began to make a move towards him. He laughed.
"I wouldn't fucking bother. We're going to sort this out once and for all."
"Sort what out?" I asked genuinely confused.
"You got pissed out your head again last night and fuck me if you think that I'm putting up with this shit any longer. You weren't even fit for your sisters eyes to see…have even recognised you're not in your own room right now asshole?"
Sure enough, as my eyes travelled around the room understanding dawned on me and guilt drowned me.
"Don't you know how much you're hurting her? How much you're hurting me? Do you even care?"
What the fuck is he on? "How much I've hurt you?" I questioned indignantly.
"Yes!" he almost shouted "was me finally beating the shit out of you enough to make you see sense? Or do I have to do it again? - Because believe me I will. Your sister is seven for Christ's sake. Seven. Your parents ignore the pair of you so you deal with it with drugs and alcohol whilst she has to watch her relationship between her parents and her fucking brother crumble apart? And me. You promised me. Again. Last time would be the last time. Well I promise you. This time is the last time. You need to sort yourself out mate."
I bowed my head in shame as realisation dawned on me. Was I really hurting them that much? I never thought about it like that. The pain I was feeling right now must be nothing compared to what I've put them through. I am a selfish asshole.
I sank into the bed thoroughly ashamed and croaked out a worthless apology "sorry."
From that day on I vowed to change. The burning power his eyes held was after everything, too much for me to bear. It pushed me over the edge and I'm glad to say I came back up again alive, though I cant honestly say I deserve it.
I stand here now, three years on, fresh out of rehab and about to shop for my sisters' surprise birthday party. Mum and dad have never been a full part of our lives and since that day I promised her, I promised myself that everything would be okay. That she would enjoy her childhood, and not like I enjoyed mine either.
So, there we have it. The point of this?
Sometimes you have to work through the pain to see the bigger picture. More often than not you yourself can cause more than what you're currently feeling. I owe everything for showing me this. For showing me how I should be acting and how I should be living my life. Everything.