FSE

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Whenever I wake up to the sounds of screaming, I am reminded of how cruel this world can be. People my age tend to think that life is all fun and games, they can do whatever they want without any consequences. Maybe they hit a bump in the road but they all convince themselves that in the end they can just go to a party and drink their problems away, think they can go and take some pills that erase their memories and forget about why they are so miserable. If there is one thing I know it's that it's all pointless. Most problems will just end up coming back to bite you in the ass, or it'll turn you into an abusive asshole.

You see, for me I know the latter part quite well. My name isn't really worth mentioning, I'm just some ragged 18-year-old husky with two abusive and inescapable parents. My father is a drunk who beats me senseless on the regular, and my mom is some emotionless slut who slept her way to the top of her corporate job. My mother just sees me as an heir of sorts, heir to what I don't know, but she has "plans" for me. She's well aware of my father beating me, but as I said, she doesn't have a heart. All that matters is that I go to college and a get a business degree so I can follow in her footsteps.

I could hear my father from my room screaming about some broken dishes or something, it didn't really matter he yelled at everything when he was drunk. I got up out of bed and walked to the kitchen just to see what had happened, and I instantly regretted it. He rushed towards me before I could react and next thing I knew he had me by the arm.

"IF YOU TELL YOUR MOTHER ABOUT THIS IM GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU, YA LITTLE SHIT!" I turned away from him whimpering due to his tight grip.

He threw me back and walked away to get something. I stood back up and just stared at what he was so mad about, it was one of our cups. He came back with a broom and yelled at me to clean it up, I didn't protest as I didn't want to get beat this early in the morning. When I had finished I put the broom back and when to get ready for school. I tried to sneak out like usual so I didn't have to talk to him, but it didn't matter he still noticed.

"Hey kid!" he snarled, "before ya go, grab me a beer will ya?" I quickly got to the fridge, grabbed one and brought it back to him. He snatched the beer out of my hands.

"Now get, the sight of you pisses me off!" he shoved me and I took the hint to leave.

My school wasn't too far and sadly I didn't have many classes today. All I had was some math class and then maybe I'd head to the library after just to stay away. Currently I've just been doing some general education and trying to get that out of the way. As much as I hate to admit it, I am glad that I'm able to get an education, it's the only thing that really keeps me going. I don't really have any friends and I don't really care for any really. All people do is complicate things, so its easier if no one gets involved. I ignore the constant pain that I feel because I know that if anyone noticed it would just be one big problem.

When I got to school it was already bustling with students, all talking about what pointless thing they did over the weekend. How wasted they got, how many people they slept with, just a bunch of pointless information. I just drowned it out, none of it matters so I'm not going to waste my time listening to it, so I just headed straight to class. I sat down in the seat I always sit in and just immediately drifted into my own little world. The teacher had started drowning on about information that didn't matter and again I just didn't want to hear it.

When class was over I packed up what little I had out and started for the library. I don't really care for the library itself just what was attached to it, it had an old clock tower. It wasn't guarded at all and the door to it was always unlocked, the staff probably figured no one would ever try to go up there. But me being the me that I am, I'm drawn to it.

The clock tower is my safe space. Its where I want to go when I need to escape, and I don't mean just physically either. After growing up in the household that I did I began using this place as an escape mentally as well, and I know it probably sounds like I'm crazy but truth is I probably am. I remember in a psych class I took once we went over this mental disorder called dissociative disorder and based on all the symptoms and what not it's pretty clear that I fit the description quite well.

My favorite pass time is drawing, especially up here in my tower. It's all an escape from the cruel reality I've been dealt. I'm no Picasso but I like to think I have some talent, If I could I would rather be an art major. Even though a business degree is a million times more useful I would switch to art in a heartbeat. Mother wouldn't ever allow it though, not even just a minor in it, "waste of time and money" she would call it. What's truly ironic is that inevitably neither will ever happen.

I slowly opened my eyes and was slightly confused by my surroundings, and when I finally fully came too I jumped to look at my phone only to see 5 missed messages. All of them were from mother asking where I was. I quickly responded that I had been out with friends and lost track of time, she knew I didn't have friends but never cared to know where I actually was. I packed in my sketch book and quickly got down from the tower and headed home.

When I got home my father was passed out drunk on the couch and there was a note from my mother saying she had business to take care of and that I was on my own for dinner, which by the way, I was always on my own. I ended up just finding some leftovers from the other night when my father ordered out for all his buddies on poker night.

After I had finished eating I began cleaning up as best I could to avoid any problems, this was a normal thing I did for anytime I was in my house. If everything is clean and in tip top shape I can usually avoid a problem. I mean, incidents like this morning were a common occurrence, but I have slowly learned how to avoid escalating into something more serious. In all rights I'm what someone might call a "good kid", but to my father I'm just a burden.

I was almost done and in the clear when my father called for me to grab him a beer. I guess at some point he woke up and heard me in the kitchen cleaning up. I went to the fridge and grabbed him one only to make the fatal mistake of forgetting that I had just cleaned, the floors were still wet from mopping and me being the klutz that I am I fell.

I laid there on the ground watching the beer fall and hit the ground. It was all in slow motion and when things finally reverted too normal for me, all I could do was scramble to pick it all up.

"Shit" I said under my breath, "I'm sorry I'll clean it up!" I heard his heavy footsteps walk towards the kitchen. I looked up only to see pure rage.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, I "wasted" a perfectly good beer and made a mess. Even though I like to think of myself as being used to something like this, that is not at all true. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, I knew what was coming and I was scared. I back up on the floor as much as I could until my back hit a wall, he slowly stepped towards me seeming to get bigger and bigger with every step. Right as he was about to start hitting me I shut my eyes and went to my safe space. I was up in the tower again, there was a nice cool breeze blowing through my fur and it felt great. I stepped toward the edge of the tower looking around at my surroundings and then finally just straight down.

I remember when I had first started going to college, I made this friend in one of my classes. I can't really remember her name but she was just some random fox girl that I thought maybe I could be friends with. I showed her the clock tower and she liked it just as much as I did, but then I messed up. One day, after class we were messing around up there and I almost feel off the tower, and if she hadn't been there I probably would have died. She got all upset, and told me that I needed to be more careful and what not. I told her that I didn't really care much, I'm not afraid to die. I told her that I in fact planned on going out that exact way. Even now looking down in my fake version of the tower I still wanted to do it.

I finally came to hours later, the house was dark and I could hear my father snoring in the living room. I got up slowly and felt pain all throughout my body, I didn't have any blood anywhere but I'm sure there were plenty of bruises. I limped my way back to my room, the entry way light was still on so I knew my mother wasn't back yet, not that it mattered.

I Got in my room and shut the door without making a sound I took all my clothes off and crawled into bed. I must have looked pathetic, lying there naked. I began to cry not being able to hold them back, it all hurt so much and I was just so tired of it honestly. Hiding away being on my own I wanted it all to end, I don't want to wait for the "last straw" I just want to stop before that happens.