ok yet another fic
This one is unbetaed. I am not sure if this will be a fanfic or what.
His eyes and heart burn. The tears sting as they spill unchecked down his cheeks. He was weak, a crybaby. No matter how he hated to show this weakness, how he hated to cry, he couldn’t stop. He was too young to understand that tears were sometimes not weakness but strength. That some times you have to cry tears of anger of injustice to purge your soul. He would learn that lesson later, but right now the price was too high for a little boy to pay.
He could hear people moving above him walking up and down the steps. He curdled up in a ball, slowly rocking back and forth. Subconcenly giving physical form to his restless mind. The dark was slowly pressing in on him stealing his breath. A small sliver of golden light peeked out from under the doorway. It was his only saving grace. The darkness was spouse to make a man out of him at least that's what his father told him every time he was shoved in the tiny closet under the stairs. It smelled like old booze and rotting wood.
He hated this place, hated how he felt. Instead of that hate giving him courage to stand up to his father or a bad ass adtuide, it made him strong in the way only a reed bending from a breeze of wind or rain can be. His father wanted a rock, but rocks break into pebbles. He was air, light and flexible. Powerful and unstoppable.
His eyes and heart burn. The tears sting as they spill unchecked down his cheeks. He was weak, a crybaby. No matter how he hated to show this weakness, how he hated to cry, he couldn’t stop. He was too young to understand that tears were sometimes not weakness but strength. That some times you have to cry tears of anger of injustice to purge your soul. He would learn that lesson later, but right now the price was too high for a little boy to pay.
He could hear people moving above him walking up and down the steps. He curdled up in a ball, slowly rocking back and forth. Subconcenly giving physical form to his restless mind. The dark was slowly pressing in on him stealing his breath. A small sliver of golden light peeked out from under the doorway. It was his only saving grace. The darkness was spouse to make a man out of him at least that's what his father told him every time he was shoved in the tiny closet under the stairs. It smelled like old booze and rotting wood.
He hated this place, hated how he felt. Instead of that hate giving him courage to stand up to his father or a bad ass adtuide, it made him strong in the way only a reed bending from a breeze of wind or rain can be. His father wanted a rock, but rocks break into pebbles. He was air, light and flexible. Powerful and unstoppable.