The tension in the house had been building for days, like a storm ready to break. Henry's drinking had escalated, his temper more volatile than ever. Vic had learned to stay out of his father's way, but it was impossible to avoid the fallout completely.
One night, as Vic sat in his room reading, he heard the familiar sounds of an argument downstairs. His mother's voice was raised, a mixture of anger and desperation, while Henry's slurred words were barely intelligible. Vic's heart raced, the fear a familiar companion.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash, followed by Mary's scream. Vic dropped his book and ran to the top of the stairs, his eyes wide with terror. "Mom?"
Mary appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her face pale and bruised. "Vic, stay in your room!"
But it was too late. Henry stumbled into the hallway, his eyes bloodshot and filled with rage. "What did I tell you about coming downstairs, boy?"
Vic froze, his legs feeling like lead. "I… I just wanted to help Mom."
Henry's face twisted with anger. "Help? You're just as useless as she is!" He advanced toward Vic, his fists clenched.
"Henry, stop!" Mary pleaded, stepping between them. "Leave him alone!"
Henry shoved her aside, sending her crashing into the wall. "Stay out of this, Mary. This is between me and the boy."
Vic's heart pounded in his chest as Henry loomed over him. "Please, Dad, don't…"
But Henry's fist connected with Vic's jaw, the pain exploding in his head. He fell to the floor, clutching his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Why, Dad? Why are you doing this?"
Henry sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Because you're worthless. Just like your mother."
Mary struggled to her feet, her eyes filled with tears. "Henry, please, he's just a boy…"
"Shut up, Mary!" Henry roared, raising his fist again.
Vic scrambled to his feet, his body trembling with fear and adrenaline. "Don't hit her!"
Henry's eyes blazed with fury. "You think you can tell me what to do, boy?" He swung again, but this time Vic managed to dodge, his instincts screaming at him to run.
He bolted up the stairs, his vision blurred by tears. He could hear his mother's sobs and Henry's angry shouts behind him, but he didn't stop. He slammed his bedroom door shut and locked it, his body shaking with sobs.
Clutching his pillow, Vic cried until he had no tears left. The pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the agony in his heart. He felt betrayed, abandoned by the one person who was supposed to protect him. His trust in his mother was shattered, and the love he had once felt for his father had turned to a deep, festering wound.
The next morning, Vic awoke with a throbbing headache and a swollen jaw. He avoided his parents, slipping out of the house before anyone could notice. At school, he kept his head down, the pain and humiliation of the previous night weighing heavily on him.
Lisa found him in the library during lunch. "Vic, what happened?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
Vic shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Please, Vic," she pleaded. "I'm your friend. Let me help."
Vic looked up, the tears welling in his eyes again. "My dad… he hit me. And my mom didn't do anything to stop him."
Lisa's face softened, her eyes filling with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Vic. You don't deserve that."
Vic's voice broke as he spoke. "I just… I don't understand why they hate me so much."
Lisa reached out, taking his hand in hers. "It's not your fault, Vic. Your dad's the one with the problem, not you. And your mom… she's probably scared too."
Vic nodded, though the pain in his heart didn't lessen. "I just feel so alone."
"You're not alone," Lisa said firmly. "You've got me, and you've got Mrs. Hendricks. We care about you."
Vic managed a small smile through his tears. "Thank you, Lisa."
For the rest of the day, Vic clung to Lisa's words. The isolation and pain were still there, but they felt a little less suffocating. He had friends who cared about him, who saw him for more than just his family's mistakes.
As the days turned into weeks, Vic began to find small moments of joy amidst the darkness. He spent more time with Lisa, their conversations a welcome distraction from the chaos at home. Mrs. Hendricks continued to offer her support, her kindness a balm for his wounded soul.
But the fear of his father's rage never fully disappeared. Every night, Vic locked his bedroom door, his heart pounding at every sound. The scars of his father's abuse ran deep, but he held on to the hope that someday, he would find a way to heal.
In the quiet of his room, Vic whispered a silent promise to himself. He would survive this. He would find a way to break free from the cycle of pain and neglect. And one day, he would build a life where he was loved and valued, a life free from the shadows of his past.