Rosewood Institute

Hell indeed

Birch's POV

Slap kick punch slap burn crunch punch kick slap

This is my life... pain. It is more recognizable for me to feel the harsh pain of my fathers beatings than to feel a tender or loving touch from him.

This is all I've ever known, the cold hatred of my father and the pain of my bitter heart dying with every breath I take.

All I want to do is cry, but I can't. Sir would just beat me even worse for it, to teach me a lesson.

God, I hated his stupid lessons. Once, he made me sleep in the doghouse outside in the dead of winter; just because I had the audacity for my stomach to growl, as I was knelt on the floor like a freaking dog.

Like, it's not my fault you never feed me and I'm forced to eat scraps out of the neighborhood's dumpster, as sir is passed out drunk on the sofa.

Anyway, enough of me overthinking and back to what I'm actually doing, which is a whole lot of nothing.

*insert sigh here*

I'm not allowed to move, make any noise, speak, glance at or look sir in the eye. If I do, then he'll definitely get out one of his many implements of torture he has. His favorite lately has been a leather flogger with razors attached to it. It's particularly nasty and hurts like a bitch when he uses it. Especially when he's angry or drunk, or high, or all of the above.

But, anyway, let's get back to it.

So I've been kneeling on the floor for three days, not moving an inch or sir would know. Just waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to decide what my next punishment would be.

When I hear it.

The sound of his truck door opening and closing.

I tense slightly, and then relax my lungs and shoulders. I'm used to this, this is my life.

It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault.

God, I can't get those words out of my freaking head.

It's not just the pain of them, but the truth of it. If I'd of tried harder to love mumma more then she wouldn't have left us. Then dad wouldn't have neglected us and Iris (my twin sister) wouldn't have missed all those doctors appointments. And when we finally figured out something wasn't right, it was too late. The doctors said she only had a few months to live.

They were gruesome on the bad days, but her radiant smile when I gave her a packet of dairy milk chocolate made all the difference. And I loved her for it.

I closed my cursed purple eyes tight, the eyes my father just loved to jest and blither on about how I'm a freak. Yes, I know, I'm abnormal with my short frame and crazy curly white had and my alien eyes.

God, I just want to disappear and see Iris again.

I really should have taken her up on her offer, but I foolishly thought father would grow to love me again. Oh how wrong I was.

I tense again when I hear heavy boots going up the stairs of the porch, but then I hear a second set... Which is strange, sir never allows anyone to come within his house. He says he doesn't wish for anyone to look upon my ugly face, which I don't disagree with. I am very ugly, unwanted, and so very exhausted with my life.

I can hear the front door open and then a glass vodka bottle is thrown at my head, I don't react, I'm used to this.

I can hear sir's cold cackle and him saying, "See, Leon! I told ya tha brat wouldn't move while we were havin' our fun." I hear a mirthless chuckle and a dark voice said, "I think I have some energy left in me. Let's show the little brat whose in charge." He cracked his knuckles together, I knew he was about to beat me, I only wished this time they'd kill me... I don't know how many more beatings I can survive.

I didn't have time to think before a fist flew at my face, knocking me down to the cold hardwood floor. My father took ahold around the chain connecting my black collar to a chain that was bolted to the floor. Even if I could've figured out how to release myself from the collar, I didn't have the energy to run, I would've died trying. Which actually sounds better, me dying in the peaceful forest surrounded by nature.

I brought back by my thoughts when I feel his beefy fingers clasped around my chin and digging into my cheeks. "You needa learn respect, boy!" He slurred and spat at my face, although I never dared look up, I knew I'd get an even worse punishment if I did.

I almost screamed when he harshly slammed my face into the floor, coupled with him kicking my already broken ribs that he broke 3 days ago. But he always kicked my ribs, at this point I'm pretty sure they are permanently broken at this point.

His friend Leon disappeared for a few moments only to return with a large soup pot with boiling hot water. He smirked at me and said, "You smell terrible, brat! Now let me fix that for you!"

I knew this punishment, it only hurt for a few seconds. Couldn't they be any more original?

He poured the water all over me, my body burned and protested against the heat. My father then took out his favorite new toy, a leather flogger with razor blades attached to the ends. He flipped me onto my stomach, my shirt was already torn and my almost nonexistent basketball shorts were so dirty and torn from past beatings that it was a miracle they were still on.

SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP

I could feel the burning of the leather, the slicing of the razor blades into my soft flesh. But I couldn't react, sir hated my screams. The beatings always got worse after I screamed, and I couldn't deal with much more pain. I knew he was breaking me, and he knew it too by the satisfied smirk on his face.

Leon had another pot of boiling water that he poured over my back that was still getting beat with the flogger. I had never known this pain before, having two harsh punishments at the same time. At first I thought water was in the pot, but I learned soon after that it was oil. And fuck, that hurt so much worse than the water. The oil stayed hot longer and seeped into my fresh and older cuts, it felt like I was being fried from the inside out.

And at that, screamed like a banshee. At this point, I didn't care if they beat me even worse for screaming. I was in pain and I needed a way to let it out.

I knew my father was angry. But I didn't care, I haven't cared in years. I just wanted him to kill me already, but I didn't have the words to speak.

Just when he was about to kick my face in...

The front door burst open and cops flooded the house. Three took down Leon and cuffed him. It took five cops to wrangle my father and cuff him. As they were doing that a female cop was trying to talk to me. But I was so tired... and I couldn't help but pass out from the pain and blood loss.

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