Chapter One
Chapter One: Welcome to Hell
Alex wakes to a screaming match - like usual.
It's loud and ruthless, shattering any chance of being able to get back to sleep. Even with a pillow forcefully pressed to his head, the drilling screeches still penetrate his ears and make his head ache.
Letting out an irritated sigh, he weakly climbs out of his king single bed and tugs on a pair of loose pants, walking out into the kitchen where his mother and whatever junkie fuck she fucked the previous night are bitching.
"Do you ever take into consideration other people's sleep?" Alex growls at the pair, but mainly his mum, as he pulls bread from the packet and tosses it into the toaster. "We have neighbours who enjoy their sleep-ins on the weekend."
"Shut the fuck up and mind your own business, Alexander," his mum hisses, venom dripping from her voice, making her son flinch slightly. "You may live in this house, but you are no son of mine, so keep out of my shit!"
"Whatever," he grumbles under his breath, hoping his mum didn't hear, but, by the enraged look he receives, Alex knows that the she-devil heard him.
The squabble between his mum and the junkie continues as Alex eats his toast, spread with a thick layer of Nutella of course, hazel-blue eyes fixated on his plate. However, it doesn't take him too long to finish, and he swallows, glancing up to see his mum and the junkie in front of the sink.
Deciding to risk himself, he stands and walks over, managing to put his plate in the sink before his mum whirls towards him, backhanding him across the face. It's then that Alex realises the junkie is walking out the door, jacket slung over his shoulder and shoulders rigid.
He steps back at the hit, but he knows that his mum is nowhere near done as she brandishes a wooden spatula, raising it and making him cower. It lands repeatedly on his bare torso, leaving rapidly reddening welts, and even breaking the skin in some places, blood bubbling and trickling free.
By the time the wooden utensil is broken, Alex is pressed up against the cupboards, his muscles rapidly contracting under his skin, but he knows there's more to come. Looking out from behind his arms, he regrets the decision when the rolling pin belts him on the side of the head, sending him to the linoleum floor.
Moments later, a click is heard, and Alex's entire body locks up in fear. The next thing he knows is boiling hot water being poured over his torso, making him let out grunts of pain, locking his lips to keep his screams inside. However, it worsens when something smashes into his abdomen, the searing heat burning his flesh further.
A frying pan - the one his mum uses to make bacon and sausages for breakfast every morning.
Repeated kicks are sent to his further scarred abdomen, and Alex hears his mum cry out how she "never wanted a fag for a son," and that he is "a disgrace; a freak of nature; a beast," and how she wishes that he was "never born in the first place!" The words bury themselves deep inside Alex's brain and he covers his ears, trying to block out her deranged, screaming insults.
A final blow is delivered to his dick, and, without his consent, a pained scream leaves him, his body curling in on itself instinctively, making the red areas of his skin protest as they move. Pain encompasses him, and he feels sick, his stomach twisting and churning uncomfortably.
His mum walks away, slamming the door behind her as she leaves, and Alex continues to lay on the floor in pain. Eventually, he forces himself to his feet and shuffles into the bathroom, resting heavily on the sink as he turns on the shower and strips his pants and underwear off, climbing in.
As soon as he's in, he slides to the tiled floor, wincing and flinching as the cool water hits the open wounds and his burns, and bruising skin. It's not a nice feeling, but it's one he's grown accustomed to over the past several years - ever since he told his mum that he was gay.
"Fuck this," Alex curses, hitting his head against the wall. "Fuck all of this! Why? Why?!"
