Hetalia Human Conspiracy Theory

Alfred F. Jones: Abuse

I rocked back and forth in my empty room. There wasn't anything better to do anyways, it's not like I could leave my room. Not anymore. Not after what happened last time. I gripped my thin arms tighter, and proceeded to move. It was the only thing I could do now. Moving back, and forth, back, and forth, back...and forth. The wood covered window gave little to no light in my room. I could hardly even see the corner my gaze was set too. My glasses that were long since broken were gone, so it didn't help either. My wide, blue, sunken eyes didn't move from that very spot. I refused to look anywhere else. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see him...
But what if he's not there this time?
My body stopped trembling, my breathing was the only thing heard in the room. I strained my ears to hear anything else, such as footsteps, breathing, knuckles being cracked, anything. But no sound alerted me, I trembled as I slowly turned my head to look behind me. The darkened room showed nothing out of the ordinary. I dared to turn all the way around, pressing my frail back to the wall. My spine digging into the wall. The door didn't open, no drunken shadow standing anywhere. My gaze slightly softened as I put pressure on my back, letting my spine be dug into the wall. Making a small wince escape my lips but forced my skinny legs to lift me off the ground. My back sliding up the wall, keeping me from falling down. I couldn't make any loud noise, or else I'll get hit, like last time, and the time before that. Once I stood up, my hands pressed against the wall, my fingers slightly curling. I pushed myself off the wall, and let out a small gasp when I stumbled across the room. My heart raced in my chest as I tried to regain my balance. My feet tripped over themselves, I can't fall, if I do...My heart stopped at the thought.
Luckily, I caught myself, and regained my balance, though my body was weak and small, I could still hold up my weight. Not that there was much of it. My stomach made a small noise, begging to be fed for the first time this week. I crossed my arms over it, keeping it silent. I looked around the blurry room. I slightly squinted, trying to see better, but it hardly helped. Once I gave up on trying to see my room, I looked at the window, and silently made my way over to it. I let go of my stomach, and placed my hands on the wooden boards covering the window. I was thankful that there was a small space of where I could see outside. I pressed my chest against the wood as I slightly looked outside, but had to look away when the light blinded me. I blinked many times, watching the dots of colour blur my vision even more. I haven't seen the light in what seems like forever. I was too terrified to look outside, but I had too this one time. Even if it meant being caught.
I slowly looked back outside, my eye squinting as I looked around. So that's what my neighbors house looks like...it's been so long. Didn't I have a friend in that house? I pushed away from the window, and stared blankly at nothing in my room, my starved stomach making pathetic noises. I ignored it as I tried to think about everything.
Didn't..I have a friend? I could have sworn I had one. I could have sworn I had many friends in..school? Didn't I go to school? I pressed my back against the wood, and slid down, eventually sitting down. I tried to remember my life before my parents divorced. Trying to remember my life that wasn't spent in fear and pain...Yeah...I used to have a really good friend. I can't remember his face, nor his name. But I remember how we used to play football. Football. Wasn't that my favourite sport? Or was it hockey? Wait...didn't I have a brother who loved that sport? I racked my brain, trying to remember everything, it only helped in causing a headache. Didn't...I have a brother? Someone that always used to play video games with me...I can't remember. My stomach made another noise, louder this time. I quickly wrapped my arms around it, trying to silence it. Thankfully, it worked to an extent.
I placed my head against the wall, causing a sound. Once I realized what I did, my breath hitched. My body tensed up as my eyes shot wide open, and stared at the door. I felt my limbs start to tremble in fear as I waited for the heavy footsteps to storm up the stairs, I waited for the slamming of the fist against my door, I waited for the screaming, waited for the bottles being shattered. But no sound was made from outside of my room. My prison to be more exact. I tried to think about why he didn't come up the stairs. Maybe he's asleep...My moral was slightly increased at thinking of the very thought. I relaxed, my shoulders slumped and my mouth twitched. I let a sigh of relief escape my lips as I closed my eyes.
"Nah, you're supposed to catch the ball! Come on one more time! Just hold your hands up to your chest, that's where I'll throw!" My voice echoed proudly. The sound of a ball hitting someones hand over and over was heard, then someone else spoke. "I don't know. I'm not a good catcher." A softer, accented voice said, and made a painful sound, as if the ball hit him. "Ahaha! Come on dude, the ball only hit your chest! Come on, pick it up and throw it to my chest, but I'll show ya how to catch it. You can do that, can't you Mattie?"
My eyes shot open as a loud gasp escaped my dry throat. My head throbbing as I remembered someone important. My brother. I knew I have a brother. I couldn't see him, but I heard his voice. That's all that matters.
"Aw mom can't you stay? I don't want you-" Someone cleared their throat. "Ah, WE, don't want you to go to work! Can't you stay? We could watch movies or or..or erm..play games!" My childish voice offered, a feminine laugh filled my ears. "No no, Alfred, Matthew, I can't not go to work. I have to able to pay the bills and buy things like food. And, maybe even that video game you two begged for?" Childish voices cheered as she laughed again.
I fell to the ground, my shoulder slamming against the floor quite loudly. I chocked out a sob as tears filled my eyes. Mother...I remember her voice. So gentle, so kind, so sweet. My bony body curled up as more memories flooded back to me unwillingly.
"Hey Mattie, wanna sleep in my room?!" My voice shouted, then whispered. "We can watch Youtube all night." The small, accented voice of my brother agreed. Giggles filled the air as they cried out "Goodnight!" to the parents, and ran somewhere. Laughing and talking excitedly about how they were going to build a fort out of pillows and blankets, watch Youtube all night, and eat their hidden snacks. A door slammed shut.
Heavy, clumsy footsteps slammed against the stairs, accompanied by loud screaming and insults. My body was shaking terribly as more loud sobs escaped my throat. There was no reason to try to stop them anymore, he already was coming up the stairs. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I guess he wasn't asleep after all.
"Mom are you okay?" Matthew asked softly to the crying mother. She sniffled. "Ah, y-yes I'm fine.." She said softly. "But you're crying, and you have a black eye." I pointed out, a small punch sound was heard. "Ow, Mattie what was that for?" I hissed, he just sighed, and whispered a few things that I couldn't hear. A loud, understanding 'Oh' escaped someones lips. "Oh, well...sorry to bother you mom. Love you!"
My door was hit with a hard punch, shuttering it and even the walls. The chair that locked me in this room was thrown down the hall, shattering against the wall. I felt no fear as the door was repeatedly hit, over and over. I knew I was up for a worse type of beating when I realized why he couldn't get inside my room after throwing the chair. I had locked my door long ago. My throat clenched up as my heart started to hurt. Everything hurts. I soon realized that I have no fear for what is behind the door, I fear of my memories. So many of them flash in my mind. Some over laying others. The happiness, the joy, the laughter...the pain. Voices overlapping each other. My body shook as the door was finally kicked open, the wooden block flying off it's hinges, and landed on the ground with a painfully loud thud sound. Though I was nearly blind, I could still make out the outline of my father as he stormed up to me.
"Dad, where's mom?" I asked, a rough yanking sound followed by a cry of pain was heard. "Ow!" Matthew sobbed as he was roughly shoved against a wall. "Gone, now get your asses in your rooms and don't you ever come out!" Father shouted as he threw someone into a room, slammed the door shut, and threw someone else into another room, also slamming the door. I heard chairs moving and being placed under doorknobs. Fists and feet slamming against the doors were heard over the begs and cries of the two kids to be let out of their rooms, yet their cries went unnoticed.
Silver tasting liquid shot found of my mouth as a thick booted foot slammed into my chest. I felt my ribs popping and cracking, and the immense pain sparking through my body. Every kick resulted in me jolting, and another mouthful of blood to soak the floor. I felt the sticky liquid start to flood under my head, causing a shutter. The heavy scent of metal and alcohol was sickening. I could do nothing but watch as the boot retracted, and slammed back into my bony chest. Pain exploded throughout my body as the process repeated. Bones cracked from the strength of the kicked. My cries and sobs were unheard by my drunken father as he continued to yell and hurt me. The pool of blood under my head grew. I silently begged for another flashback, or even for one of the kicks to be fatal, something to get me away from this. But nothing came. I was forced to endure the horrific pain of my fathers beating. He'd kick my chest, then stomach, then neck, then stomach, then chest. Sooner than later, I couldn't make out what he was kicking anymore. The pain spread even in places that weren't even kicked.
I begged to Death to take me. Starved, beaten, starved, beaten, starved, beaten. The cycle that never ended, I begged for it to end. I've been begging for this life to end for what seems like years. Maybe it has been years, I don't know. But I do know one thing. I want to die. God I want to die...I want to die...I want to die..please.. I've wanted to see my brother again. I've wanted to see mother again. I want to eat again. Yet I knew for a fact that those wishes will never come true. I clenched my eyes shut as Father spat on my face, and leaned down to scream in my ear. I tried to move my arms to cover my ears, but they refused to be lifted. I was blessed, when he gave one last strong kick, sending me back against the wall, and left. The last mouthful of blood shot out of my mouth, and onto the ground. I felt the warm liquid seep down my cheeks as I reopened my eyes once I heard him thumping down the stairs, screaming insults back up to me about how I was a worthless child. A mistake. A waste of time and space. I gasped for air. The hot air didn't feel any better. My skin burned and tingled as I managed to rolled on my back. The pain was enough to make tears pour from my eyes and small please of the sweet embrace of death to take me away. I watched as my vision became tunnel, very slowly, but very surly.
Small, blood tasting gasps of breath soon turned into tiny breaths. As my vision turned darker and darker, a small smile tugged at my lips. I'm finally going to die. Something I've wished for for God knows how long. I felt the blood slipping from the corners of my mouth, but the pain in my body turned into pricks and needles, and nothing more. The pain faded away, as my eyes slowly shut. The last, soft sigh escaped my lips that were permanently stuck in a smile on my face. I the last thought to cross my mind was more of a wish than a thought.
Maybe the next life will be better.