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The sun outside the window was lazily setting down, its golden rays of sun shining weakly on the people below creating a cute gold-pinkish hue.. It was the beginning of spring, the sun settled down into slumber later and the outside air was more warmer, which meant that more kids were outside playing their stupid little games, which meant more distractions for Tommy.
The noises of laughing children, things clattering on the ground and cars honking as they passed by Tommy’s house were going to be an agony to manage when he was supposed to learn. The distractions were making it nearly impossible.
Tommy the blond kid with fluffy hair that fell in front of his sky blue eyes who everybody seemed to have fun with when talking to was sitting on his spinning chair staring angrily at his spanish book. His shirt was all wrinkled as he held his spanish book in hand. He was trying so hard to learn it, they had a test tomorrow and he had to learn…he had to because if he didn’t then he’d get a bad mark and if he got a bad mark then his grade would look terrible and then-
Ping
His mental spiral was broken by his scrappy phone that was more old than- him probably? He didn’t know…all he knew was that iphones sucked and he wanted to chuck it out the window right then and there.
His phone lit up by his left arm where it sat on the table. Tommy looked over and picked it up as it was most likely somebody texting him, when he looked at the notification from his school app his heart dropped. Dread pooled at the bottom of his stomach. His fingers turned numb cold as they buzzed with terror and his legs felt wobbly even though he was sitting on his chair.
‘Math halfyear test: F ’ is what the screen read, his school app ever so cheerly fucking over all of his weekend as the math teacher- that bitch Dream (homeless teletuby motherfucker), couldn’t fucking look at the test that they all wrote that daytomorrow or a few days later noOooO he just had to fuckin do it today and give everyone their stupid ass marks.
And he got an F.
He was dead, done for, muerto.
A wet and panicked laugh left his lips, it sounded broken, like a delicate glass.
Tommy’s breathing picked up as he clutched his hair in his hands, biting his lip and rubbing harshly over it with his teeth it was getting harder for him to breathe.
Slowly tears filled his eyes, his vision being blurred by the salty water as it slowly, agonizingly started to slip down his cheek. Tommy’s head dropped down with his hands in his hair, his elbows resting on the table as they shook.
His father was going to see this, of course, he had the app too after all. And that only made Tommy more terrified because Tommy not only got an F but it was double weighted which meant that it was basically like getting two F’s. In short, Tommy was screwed.
Goodbye freedom, goodbye internet and three meals a day.
And Tommy was just beginning to do so good .
Tommy visibly shook as he cried in his room, tears falling down from his nose that they slipped on, his nose full of snot as he pathetically whimpered and cried as he spiraled in his toughts, drowning.
Now his grade has dropped so low he was close to having an F. An F! He couldn’t afford to have an F as his final fucking grade!
Why did he have to ruin everything that was good? Why was he so so so dumb ? Why was he such a failure? What did he do to deserve this ? Why couldn’t he be normal like all the other kids? Like everybody else at his school…he was stupid even if his father said he wasn’t and that he was just lazy but he wasn’t! He tried! He really really did try! He studied for hours for that test! Like any other! And he still failed…
Tommy hates himself, he hates the way his brain can’t think he hates the way its dull. His head is starting to hurt from his tight grip on his hair and his lip starts to bleed from the harsh gnawing. Tommy is so stressed, hell the word stressed is an understatement..he can’t cut himself…not now…when his father was going to come to his room and-
Well…it was not going to be a pretty sight…
And..how is Tommy supposed to learn Spanish after his father is done with him? Most of the time Tommy can barely even sit, hell he can barely even be conscious!
Tommy can’t do this…not again..
His door creaks as Philza walks into his room, his blond semi-long hair being tied into a low ponytail “Hey Thomas do you-“ He stops in the middle of his sentence, freezing in the doorways as his ice blue eyes search Tommy he looks him up and down head to toe.
“Why are you crying?” He asks after a minute with a low voice as he quirks one eyebrow up, it only makes Tommy cry harder because he doesn’t even know yet and Tommy has to be the one to tell it to him.
“I-I’m sorry! I really am! I-I got an- an F from the test from math! I tried I really really did! I swear father- I tried-“ Tommy broke down crying. It was better to tell than if his father would find out later when checking his phone.
Phil’s eyebrows furrowed as a cold look adorned his face “An…F?” His voice was cold and deathly calm but angry if you knew where to look and if you didn’t know well his face told it all “ Thomas ,” The boy shook with the sheer force and hiss that his name was spoken with “Did you not learn ?” Phil’s tone was accusatory and Tommy spluttered as he cried “I I did-! I-I really did! I promise!” Yet his words fell on Phil’s deaf ears like always.
“Get up.” His voice was like a cold icicle impaling through Tommy’s chest as he started to walk out of Tommy’s room and Tommy knew better than to stay and so he followed as asked to.
They arrived at his father’s room.
Phil ran his hand gently through Tommy’s hair, his fingers catching on some curls as he untangled them before he yanked, making Tommy fall down on his knees sobbing.
It hurt… It hurt bad
Tommy was shaking like a leaf as his knees were going to have bruises later…but those were nothing compared to what was going to come.
“You know I love you right..?” Phil spoke and Tommy he..he didn’t know..he wasn’t sure he never was but if his father said that he did then he must right? And all this was out of love always right? This is what parents do right..?
“Tommy this is a punishment but I do this out of love for you .” Phil spoke his words sweet like honey yet bile like a snake's venom as he cupped the boy’s cheek in his face, he smiled a cold emotionless sympathy but it was no sympathy at all.
“Believe me when I say this Tommy…this hurts me more than it hurts you .” And as Phil slapped Tommy, Tommy wondered as he cried and whimpered there on the floor if it really hurt his father more than it hurt him? Could mental pain be worse than physical? Was his father lying? He couldn’t be…surely..
His cheek burned, a red mark most likely left as a reminder. Soon it was going to be full on red as Phil kept on slapping him until suddenly he stopped a quiet “Hm.” Leaving his lips before he decided “Take off your shirt.”
And if dread wasn’t in his stomach before it sure as hell was now, Tommy hiccuped as he sobbed. He slowly peeled his shirt off of his skin “No please father-“ Tommy tried begging, which seemed to be a problem with him..because with everything that he did it was always try but never did .
Phil only shushed him as he tsked “Shut up Thomas you know the consequences to your actions.” And Tommy did which only caused him to shake more and sob as his shirt was now discarded on the floor.
His father walked slowly behind him, a hand resting on his back, tracing it up and down left and right, no place was left untouched.
A cracking sound was heard behind him and his shoulders rose up to his head in a pathetic attempt to save himself before he felt the stinging, burning and agonizing pain of the wip.
Tommy yelled out as he cried, he was just a child.
He couldn’t hold those cries and yells even if he tried. And he did try…hard.
“Count and do not stutter.” Came his father’s voice from above him and all he could do was nod “One,” Tommy gasped as he felt warm liquid dripping down his back.
Crack
“Two” Tommy’s back burned as some of his almost healed scars got smacked with the tight leader of the wip.
Another crack and another burning sensation and tears were flowing more fluently down his cheeks than he ever was fluent in his mother language “Three.”
He could feel the warm liquid on his back as it burned and Tommy wanted it to stop .
“Four..” His voice trembled as the whip hit his back once more and he felt his hands going cold.
“..Five” His back was now numb and his eyes began to sting.
“Six..” Tommy now can’t feel the blood falling down his back as broken sobs leave him, safe to say he can’t feel his back at all except for the whips.
“..s…..seven..” His voice is so small and high pitched and coated in sobs that he can barely breathe. His back burn and he wants this to end but he knows..he knows that he deserves this.
“Eight..” By now his voice is so high that it most likely could break a glass easily. His hands tremble yet he can’t feel them and his legs feel like water.
“Nine..” Just one more and it would be all over…hopefully…
“Ten..” But Tommy is known for his naiveness and the whip does not stop at ten and Tommy is ready to cry his little pathetic heart out.
“Eleven..!” He screams as he cries his back gaining back some feeling which makes him want to gag as he feels the blood slipping down.
“Twelve-“ And Tommy can not breathe properly anymore not like he did from the start but now its just more..
“Thirteen!” Tomy really really can’t do this…he’s shaking… so bad and he feels cold so so cold but he can’t move he can’t stop because if he does it will just be worse for him.
“Fourteen!” Tommy’s voice is raw as it breaks and cracks. Tommy’s ugly sobs are basically silent in his ears as all he can hear is the sound of the whip hitting his back.
“Fifteen!” He cries out and the whip stops its motions now only being dragged along his back and somehow that pain hurts him even more. The feeling of his blood getting smeared all over his back makes him sick and the whip doesn’t help as it crawls around his neck tightening its grip so Tommy can barely breathe and then its pulled.
And Tommy- Tommy can’t breathe- fuck-fuck he can’t breathe-
Tommy flails sobbing as air leaves his lungs and no more enters he gasps and wheezes for air but its a failed attempt he’s choking and he’s slowly dying- is this how he dies?
For a minute he thinks his pain is over that he’s going to go to the other side- but that hope is crushed as soon as the whip loses its hold and leaves his neck entirely.
Tommy is wheezing and gulping for air desperately and he knows that it’s not a pretty sight, it never is.
“I hope..” His father speaks coldly as he steps in front of Tommy gripping his hair as he tilts the boy's head up harshly “that you learned your lesson.”
And Tommy nods his head as he sobs his back aching wet with blood and Tommy wants to just sleep and never wake up again.
“Good, you know I love you my little sweetling right..?” The words from the man's mouth leave like thick honey and they make Tommy’s heart pang with hurt. But Tommy has no other choice than to nod and agree.