"Shit! My mom asked me to come early today." I lie.
"Oh, that's sad. Well, see you tomorrow." One of Pinku's friends reply.
"You guys want me to bring more of the food I brought today?" I say, because I want to find an excuse to talk to them tomorrow.
"For real? Fuck yeah."
"Alright. See you tomorrow."
I walk away, then hide behind a wall, watch them disappear from sight.
Junior seems to have managed to stand up. I decided that I'll help him out a bit.
I walk up to him.
"Hey. You look like you need some help." I say.
He looks very skinny.
I hope he doesn't know I'm with the kids who beat him up.
He looks at me, one hand still covering his mouth and nose. Unfortunately, he instantly recognizes me.
I can't see his face properly, but he seems to have quite feminine features.
His eyes burn with rage. "I don't need your help."
He limps away.
"I…" I feel an immense sense of shame.
I know I should have stopped them. But it's been so long since I had the opportunity to make good friends. I'm not stupid to give that up.
Yet I feel like shit.
I just watch him walk away.
Junior's POV:
I almost feel like laughing at that dark haired kid who offered help. He thinks he can get to both have fun at my expense and try to help me and feel good about it.
My blood boils as I think about spineless people like him.
The adults are watching me weirdly, as if I'm the bad guy. Whatever, I'm used to it. But sometimes is gets to me and I feel like I want to leave this place and go somewhere far away. I heard the Ciudad is heaven on Earth.
My mouth tastes like blood. I heard a crack, but I don't know what part of my face that bitch broke.
I'm near my home when I realize that the back of my shirt is torn.
My dad's a good dad. But sometimes he beats me a bit too hard in order to teach me. I guess it's my fault for being so dumb and bad that he's forced to do it.
My hands are shaking as I reach for the doorknob.
I muster up courage and open it. The familiar smell of alcohol and garbage greets me. My dad's sitting on the floor. He looks dazed. Probably high. We live in a studio house. No bedrooms, no dedicated kitchen. Just a room and toilet.
I walk silently to get some bread and avoid showing him my back.
"C-can I take a bread?" I ask.
He looks at me. "Got hit again?"
"Y-yeah."
"Your shirt looks torn."
Shit. He's going to kill me. My legs tremble.
"Yeah. I can wear this though."
He sighs. "You can take one of my shirts."
I'm relieved. My dad's in a good mood today. Now as long as I act like I don't exist and stay out of his way, I should be alright.
"Thanks."
I take a slice of bread and change into one of my dad's shirts and prepare to leave. I'm bound to mess something up and get beaten up by my dad.
I walk towards the front door.
"Junior?" My dad slurs.
I turn around. "Yes?"
"Where are you going?"
"Uhmm. Outside."
"No. Today you stay inside. For tearing a shirt."
Shit.
Arguing with my dad would mean a broken finger for me at the very best, so I oblige and sit in one corner, trying my best to stay out of view.
Then I realize. The blood on my face has dried, but it's still there on my face. I'll have to go out to get some water, but my dad told me not to go out. I'll get beaten up if I try to go out.
I just sit down and eat my bread, accompanied occasionally by the taste of blood.
The day passes slowly, watching my dad drink, snort a line of god knows what and stare into the corner.
Thankfully, eventually it becomes night time and things have become dark enough for me to fall asleep.
I lay down on the cold, hard floor and try to sleep. The slice of bread still sits in my stomach. I'm thankfully feeling full.
I shouldn't have try to hit Pinku. I was just following what my dad taught me. I was trying to scare them off by acting stronger.
Tomorrow, things will be better. Tomorrow-
"JUNIOR!" my dad yells.
I scramble up and stand stiff.
"Y-yes father?"
He looks at me, holding a bag of bread.
"Did you take a slice of bread?"
I gulp.
"I didn't know I was-"
"DID YOU?" He yells. Then calms himself. "Did you? Or did you not?"
"Yes. I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm-"
"Come here." My dad tells me, dead quiet.
I stay frozen in fear.
"Don't make me come there."
I force my legs to move.
I take a step.
I walk towards him.
He moves towards me quick and hits me the same part that Pinku did.
"AAAARGH!" I scream in pain.
"ssssh! You'll wake the neighbors up." My dad tells me.
I look at him through teary eyes and see him holding a finger to his lips.
I force myself to stay silent.
He walks towards me. "This next one is for the shirt you tore. Remove your hands from your face."
"N-nuh." I say.
He stares at me, eyes filled with hatred and he doesn't move.
I remove my hands, letting blood fall down to my new shirt.
He slaps me on the injured part of my face again.
I try not to scream from the pain.
"Don't go thinking you deserve any food. You're wasting my money. You don't deserve anything.
The only thing People like you deserve is to be beaten up for wasting precious food.
You're not allowed to get food from this house for the next month. Only come here to sleep."
I stay silent. I'll get beat up more if I argue with him.
"Sleep outside today. You're making a mess on my floor."
I walk out silently.
It's pitch black and freezing cold. I walk to the nearby pond, which is fifteen minutes away.
I wash the blood off my face. Turns out my lip is busted and my cheek is swollen.
Should I even go to the nursery tomorrow?
My dad told me that I have to. I'll get fucked if he finds out that I don't.
No. I'm not going until the next week. My dad doesn't notice or even care to be honest. Pinku's anger should hopefully subside by then.
Instead I'll help the old man Yamazaki set up his restaurant and get some food off of it.
Things can't get any worse, right.?
End of Junior's POV