Bury Me In Black, chapter 1

The candle flickered. A cool breeze swept through the crack in the window, sending a chill up the boy's spine. The boy shivered as he huddled closer into the corner and pushed to the side a scrunched up paper towel that had previously been holding a handful of M&M's. The boy leant over and picked up a damp face washer bringing it closer into his body, cuddling it like a stuffed toy. The washer had no real significance, the boy just always found it soothing when he was going through rough times. And now was one of those times. His parents had always been very nice people, very friendly, up until recently. They had begun shouting at each other, complaining about every little thing they could think of. Tonight was one of the worse fights. They started to hit each other and had then turned on their only son. They each got in a few good hits at him before he was able to lock himself in the bathroom.

"Well get him out of there!" His mother shouted.

"No! Why don't you? He's your son!" The boy's father spat back.

"He's yours too! My family wasn't screwed up like him! He must have got it from your side of the family!" She screamed, earning herself a fist to the cheek, her voice slowly rising with each word. The boy cringed. He didn't like hearing his parents talk about him that way. He knew they didn't care much for him anymore. He also knew he was the reason they were always fighting now. A single tear trickled down his cheek. There was a violent banging on the door.

"Get out of there!" His father shouted only not so nicely. He swore almost every second word and went on to call him every bad name he could think of. The boy knew he had to get out. He slowly stood up and shuffled over to the window. He unlocked it and shoved as hard as he could to shift the old window. It finally opened as the banging was getting louder. He snatched up the face washer and jumped through the window. He hadn't walked five meters when there was a loud crash and the sound of glass shattering. "Son of a... " his father continued and there was a high pitched scream from his mother as she went crashing down to the ground. The boy shivered and slapped himself mentally for not having a jacket. He could freeze to death in the cold night air with only thin jeans and a t-shirt. He cursed as he heard more shouting and smashing, and quickly hurried out of the yard onto the streets.