What Lies Beneath Page #8

The undiscovered truth of Nicholas Anderson

• Fiction

								


Warning ⚠️ ( Read at your own risk)

Before I could comprehend the situation, he swiftly drew back his arm, clenched it into a fist, and swung it towards my abdomen. The impact caused a sudden loss of breath as the limited oxygen within me was forcefully expelled from my body, resulting in me being knocked back onto the bed.

As he starts to get on top of me, I try to crawl away, but he punches me in the stomach again. The excruciating pain courses through my body Making me look up at him as his crazy eyes look down at me, full of lust. 'No, not that. Anything but that, please'.

"If you understand what is best for you, you will refrain from fighting back boy." He exhales into my ear cause my body to tremble. I did not want to, but tears began to flow as I was unable to prevent him from turning me around. Before I knew it, he pulled down my pants, and not long after, the sound of his belt being undone filled the deathly quiet room. 

One of his hands grabbed my neck as he pushed himself inside me. At that moment, everything went numb; it was like my body wasn't my own. I didn't know what happened next; all I could remember were his moans as he derived pleasure from his actions.

Warning ⚠️ (it's safe now)

I felt as though I had regained my composure when I heard him say, "This is all you are good for now, boy," as he closed the door to my room.

I gradually got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom. I removed the rest of my clothing before turning to the shower. I noticed my reflection in the mirror, observing my pale face that appeared swollen and bright red, with dried tear streaks running down. My gaze gently settled upon my abdomen, where purplish and reddish bruises adorned my skin, some even extending to my ribs. I was even able to discern the presence of fingerprints on my skin.

Try not to think about it. I turn on the shower all the way to the hot side before jumping in. As the scalding hot water runs down my body, I feel something coming out from inside there. That's when something white and red goes down my legs. Remembering the intense pain down there and the reason for it.

I grab my scrub, put some soap on it, and then harshly scrub my skin with it. I want to forget what happened and wash it all away, but I know I can't. Worst of all, this won't be the last time, as this has happened every now and then since I was 10 years old.

I always knew my parents never liked me from the beginning. They needed me, that's all, but I lost the very reason for my existence when she died. When the daughter they loved left this world, and only I, whom they would have sacrificed to save her, remained like a cruel twist of fate. If I could, I would have taken her place in an instant, but here we are.

My life became hell when she died. I was only four then, but my father blamed me for everything and took his rage out on me with daily beatings and so on. My mother didn't do anything, which was the worst part. She didn't hit or insult me, but she also never helped, turning a blind eye to everything, as if to say I wasn't worth it and this is what I deserved. 

'That's right. Who would love trash like you'

'You should have died.'

I closed my eyes before looking at my wrist, which had faint lines and a few red ones.

'Do it.'

'No one will know.'

I took the small blade next to my soap and brought it to my wrist. It had been two weeks since I had gone without doing this, and here we are..

I brought the cold blade down, sliding it against my skin, and let the red line form as the blood flowed down with the water. With each line, carefully not going too deep, I felt relief wash over me as if I could finally breathe. In this moment, I was free, and a smile formed on my lips.

***********************

As the penultimate performance drew to a close, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of trepidation and uncertainty about my impending turn. Earlier during class, for some reason, I had confidently informed Mr. Everton that I would perform something, and now here I was, anxiously awaiting my moment. 

As someone not enrolled in the music writing class, I am relieved that I do not have to compose and perform an original song. However, I understand that those in the music writing class who are not enrolled in the song class are not required to perform their songs either. They have the option of requesting a classmate to perform their song on their behalf. In essence, we are only expected to showcase the skills we are acquiring in our respective classes, and nothing beyond that.

As the song concludes, the girl stands with a graceful smile, and the class applauds her performance. Knowing it is my turn, I politely hand my flash drive to the person next to the equipment. They insert my flash drive into the laptop, and I show them where my track is for the song I am about to play. I am grateful that I had three free hours today, which allowed me to make my track on time. With that, I head towards the grand piano and sit down before nodding to the person next to the laptop to play my track.

As the track began, I also played the piano, contemplating how this song resonates with my current emotional state.

Yeah, I'd rather be a lover than a fighter
'Cause all my life, I've been fighting
Never felt a feeling of comfort, oh
And all this time, I've been hiding
And I never had someone to call my own, 
I'm so used to sharing
Love only left me alone
But I'm at one with the silence

As I sing the first part, I experienced a profound sense of tranquility, as if I were confiding the truth to another person.

I found peace in your violence
Can't show me, there's no point in trying
I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long
I found peace in your violence
Can't show me, there's no point in trying
I'm at one, and I've been silent for too long

I allowed the words to flow freely as I played the song, liberating my emotions in the process.

I've been quiet for too long
I've been quiet for too long
I found peace in your violence
Can't show me, there's no point in trying
I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long

I'm in need of a savior (savior), but I'm not asking for favors
My whole life, I've felt like a burden
I think too much, and I hate it
I'm so used to being in the wrong, I'm tired of caring
Loving never gave me a home, so I'll sit here in the silence

With each word, I reflected on my ideal family and the incredible support my parents have provided to Anne. They welcomed her into their home when she was in need, while I, their own son, never truly felt at home with them.

I found peace in your violence
Can't show me, there's no point in trying
I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long
I found peace in your violence
Can't show me, there's no point in trying

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