My dad only hit me one time.
It all started right after Darius and his men had ganged up on me and all left me half dead on the floor. Everything hurt so much I could barely move. Those two dead guys were still there. Yes, I kept remembering how they killed them over and over again.
I saw my blood and teeth I spilled on the floor, and I felt more blood coming out slowly of my mouth.
I was sure I was gonna die.
I cried and called for my dad, for God, for anyone to come and help me, but I also remembered those fucking clowns, how they laughed while they beat the shit out of me, how they all ganged up on me, even though I was just a kid, and what had I done to them? The problem was between those two other guys and me. Everyone else had nothing to do with it, and if they had some problem with me, they should have come to me one by one. They even had to gang up to beat up a fucking kid. Fucking pussies. They always claim to be tough, but they're even afraid of a kid. They can't even go out on the street without their guns and without being in groups. That' why those fucking pussies are always hiding. I wish I could find them and beat the living fuck out of them, so they'd finally learn that they're nobodies and always will be, that the best thing that they could do is to fucking die. With all this in mind, I got up and slowly walked toward the exit. I felt all that anger (and all that magic) coursing through my body. I was so pissed off that I'd forgotten all about the pain.
I left the building and kept walking. All I could think about was how much I wanted to beat the shit out of them all.
I walked and walked without thinking about where I was going, but after a while I got home. As soon as I entered, my mother saw me and came over.
"Oh, son. Why are you scaring me like that?" That was the first thing she said when she saw me all covered in blood. "What were you doing? And now that your dad's not here, How I'm gonna get the money for the hospital?"
"I have money," I told her, grabbed my backpack and took out some of the bills that Darius had left me.
My mom grabbed the bills, and all she said was:
"Don't tell your dad about this."
We went to the hospital, and my mom took me to the emergency room.
"My son's dying!"
The nurses saw her, then saw me covered in blood, and then they looked at her again.
"Fill out these forms, and the doctor will see you in a moment."
"Can't you see my son's dying?!" my mom shouted, and apparently the nurses didn't see it that way 'cause they just pointed to a door and told her:
"You can go to the waiting room if you want."
We went to that room, and as soon as we entered, we saw that it was full of people, most of them children and teenagers who had been beaten, stabbed, or even had more than one bullet hole in their bodies. There were so many of them that we had to stand and wait for quite a while.
Hours passed and more and more people arrived. There was only one doctor, so we had to wait for so fucking long. During that time, the pain came back, and in the end, it was so intense that I could no longer move and even screamed and cried.
But the nurses didn't give a single fuck about that. They couldn't have given me some pills and shit, but nah.
When the doctor finally came for me, the nurses had to take me on a stretcher to his desk, where he covered me in bandages, ointments, and even put a cast on my arm.
"He fell off his bike," my mom told him even though he didn't ask.
We left the hospital, and I had all that stuff for several months. My chest hurt all the time 'cause I had also broken several ribs, but you can't put a cast on those.
The thing is around that time my dad came back. I think he'd been missing for over a year.
"And what's up with you?" he said when he saw me with all those bandages. "You love making me spend money, don't you, you bastard? But let's see how you're gonna pay for that 'cause I don't have any money."
"No. Don't worry," my mom told him. "We already paid for it."
And you might say: "Well, your dad must have been really happy to know he didn't have to pay anything." But no, he just stared at my mom and walked towards her.
"Well, you think I'm stupid, don't you?!" he yelled at her.
"No, baby. Why?" my mom asked.
"Don't give me that shit! There's another manm, right?!" He grabbed her shoulder so hard she writhed in pain. He was so pissed his hands were shaking.
"No, babe. There's no one. I swear."
He pushed her so hard she fell to the ground.
"Well, if you're gonna be a fucking whore, you might as well tell your pimp to pay for all your shit you!" he said and walked towards the door.
Ella se levantó y fue con él.
She got up and reached him.
"Don't leave! I don't see anyone else, I swear!" she shouted.
"Shut up, bitch!" He yelled at her and opened the door.
"The kid gave it to me!" she hugged my dad tightly so he wouldn't leave. "He gave me the money!"
"Let go, you stupid bitch!" my dad yelled at her and pushed her so hard she fell to the floor again. "And don't give me that shit; where this idiot gonna to get that money from?!"
"I think he joined a gang," she said, and he closed the door.
He walked towards me.
He bent down and put his knee on the floor so that his face was in front of mine.
And it hit me right in the chest. I fell to the floor and screamed as loud as I could 'cause my ribs hadn't healed yet.
"Don't you have anywhere to sleep, you fuck?!" he yelled and he kicked me on the floor. "Don't you have anything to eat, you piece of shit?! Yes, you do, right, you son of a bitch?!" He kicked me so hard I ended up rolling on the floor. "So why are you looking for money elsewhere?! I give you both more than enough, and if you need more, it's 'cause you're wasting it! Who the hell you think you are?! I'm the father here! I'm the provider here!"
He kept kicking me, and I remembered all those fucking clown who ganged up on me and got really pissed.
I felt all that anger (and all that magic) flow though my body again.
Those kicks didn't hurt me anymore.
And when he kicked me again, I grabbed his foot as hard as I could.
"Let go, you fucking asshole," he shouted and shook his feet.
But then I pulled it so hard that he fell to the floor.
And I got up.
"Leave him alone, leave him alone!" That fucking bitch stood in front of me to protect that fucking piece of shit of my dad. He stood up and shouted:
"Move, you bitch! I'm gonna beat the fuck outta him!"
"Leave him alone, leave him alone!" my mom kept yelling at me, and I really wanted to beat the fuck outta him.
But I didn't do shit.
And neither do him.
"You fucking kid, I bet you're not even mine. But if you think you're so tough, then you take care of her," he said and left. My mom ran after him, but he slammed the door in her face. He got in his car and drove off.
He never went back.
My mom then came up to me and slapped me.
"What did you do? Maybe he's not coming back," that fucking bitch complained.
And I didn't have the balls to say anything to her.
I just went to my room, slammed the door, and started hitting the wall. I screamed and cried with all my might and kept hitting the wall until I got tired.
My hands were covered in blood.
But the walls ended up filled with cracks.
I could see a dark aura emanating from my hands. I concentrated a bit, and that aura transformed into a small ball. I threw the ball at the wall, and it exploded, leaving a small hole. Debris fell onto the floor and onto the pile of magic books I had there. I grabbed the top one and dusted it off. All those books were brand new, with all of their pages. I bought them with the money Darius had left me.
I opened the book right where I had left a piece of paper as a bookmark. The title on the page read:
Energy sphere — creation and manipulation
I smiled; apparently I had mastered that spell too.