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Emmanuel's POV

I've always been friends with the darkness. As a child it never scared me like the other kids would say, but it gave me comfort. I rely on the darkness wholeheartedly, waiting an entire day to be greated by it once again.

Sometimes I wish it was always night time, where you could dream and imagine what you want life to be. Before you know it you have to wake up and face the real world again, my dreams fading to the back of my mind waiting again to be reacquainted with my haunted thoughts.

I sit on my bed, the sun light seeping through the cracks of the curtain, lighting up the dark wood flooring. I get up slowly walking on the cold flooring to my bathroom. Quickly, I do my routine, getting dressed before walking out of my room, to the kitchen, silently hoping it was empty.

"You dumb boy! Didn't I tell you to make me breakfast early this morning, I have an important meeting attend."

I shy away from him trying to think of a something to say because I didn't remember him ever telling me that. Unlike in other situation where you would ignore and it would go away, this wasn't like that, if I ignore him it will just make the beating worse.

"I-I don't remember you telling me anything," I say, scolding myself for stuttering.

Every night before I go to sleep I always promise myself that I would stand up for myself but I never did. My stepfather was a very big man and I doubt I could take him with the little muscle I had. I wouldn't say I was skinny but I wasn't huge like those buddy builder you see on tv, I'm more lean.

"So your calling me a liar now? Huh!"

I hunch over in pain groaning when his fist slam into my lower abdomen. Before he could hit me again my mother walked in ready for the day, I straighten up immediately, going over to the stove to cook the breakfast like nothing happened, I knew better that to talk because that would only give me a night long beating.

"Good morning," she chirps happily going over to her husband kissing him in greeting, he smiles at her pretending like nothing happened.

"Why is it so tense in here?" She asked. It's my mother's knowledge that my stepfather and I are best of buddies, we frequently go to his man cave in the basement to have great father son time and we are always cordial.

If only she knew that everytime I go into that basement I get beat nearly half to death. She never sees this though he makes sure that only my torso is covered in bruises. I've tried time and time again to explain to her but she never believes me, it like he's brain washed her. To her he could never do that to her child he was a great husband. There were a few time when I was going to show her my torso but everytime he would enter the room as soon as my hand neared the hem of my shirt, it almost felt like he was watching me.

Everytime I tried to explain to her in the last five years of my life she always thought I was lying saying it was a way to deal with my late fathers death.

"Nothing just talking about the new football game we're going to watch this afternoon in the man cave, right Emmanuel?" He asks turning her back slightly to her his eyes fill with hate and wicked intent.

"Y-yes," I clear my throat before saying,

"Yes we were." Faking it perfectly.

"Oh ok well I'm leaving, you coming with today Richard?" She ask him.

"Yes I am, come home early today Emmanuel you don't want to miss the haedlines," he says. I watch as they walk out the front door before hearing the car start and pull off. I make myself something to eat before going to school because the lunch was expensive and I wanted to save my money.

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