I know my dad hates me, but trust me when I say the feeling is mutual.
"You stupid, fucking brat."
I used to think he didn't mean it when he hit me, hmm. That's what my mom used to tell me. She used to say, 'Daddy doesn't know how to use his words so he uses his fists instead. But he'll always love you.' Hah, she was so stupid. But she's dead now. So it doesn't really matter, un.
It hurts. It hurts really bad. If I'm lucky I pass out, but even then it doesn't stop. The pain will be there when I wake up, along with the bruises. But I have a way to forget, if even for only a night.
HIT. HIT. HIT.
"You make me sick. I wish you'd disappear, you useless doll."
He's finally done. At least he wasn't drunk this time. The beatings last hours when he's drunk. Today was only a few minutes. I smile gleefully at that, as he stomps away. Time to forget...
Lying numbly on the floor, Deidara slowly raised, wincing from the stinging sensation overwhelming his lithe body. Stumbling along the way, he managed to make the trip up the stairs to his room, collapsing on the bed. Stiffly turning his head, clouded, blue eyes meet the black, beaded ones of a small, wooden puppet his boyfriend, Sasori, made him for his last birthday. A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he reached just past the puppet for the small pocket knife he kept hidden beside it. Flipping the knife open he took a moment to revel in the intricate design of the small weapon. Wrapped around the little blade was an etching of a dragon breathing fire. "Who would've wasted their time on this...didn't they know true art is fleeting, un?" Tracing the icy blade down his scarred wrist, he decided to be creative tonight.
"Just like life...it's only fleeting..."
Tightening his grip on the blade, the blue eyes started digging deep into his wrist, making a swirling pattern as he went and giggling, because no matter how hard he dug into his wrists he didn't feel anything. Not anymore at least.
"Oh, darn. I messed up, un..." he muttered giddily, slashing across the swirl design, watching as the blood rushed out in sickening amounts, staining his shirt and sheets, slowly dripping on the floor.
"What a pretty color, un." Deidara whispered, elated at the high feeling he was receiving from his blood loss. Feeling weak, he let the blade clunk to the floor, along with his worries, his pain. He felt like he was floating on air. He was in pure bliss! A crazed smile spread across his face. It was HIS bliss! No one could take it away from him, not even his father! Slowly slipping into unconsciousness, Deidara laughed happily.
"My bliss...mine, mine, mine, mine..."
Groggily opening his turquoise eyes, Deidara nearly howled at the explosion of pain rushing through his body as he sat up. Biting his lip in an attempt not to scream out from the pain, the blonde worked his way to his feet, only to step in something wet and cold. Looking down he realized it was a small pool of his own blood. Cursing quietly, Deidara walked to his bathroom, leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind.
Softly closing the door, the blonde sat on the side of his tub, avoiding looking at the mirror he passed at all costs. He didn't want to see the damage his father had done. Stripping from his blood stained clothes and sitting in the porcelain tub, he turned the shower on, letting the lukewarm water wash over him, watching the caked on blood from the other night bleed down the drain. It was well into the afternoon so going to school was pointless. Today was Friday anyway and the blonde felt he deserved a long weekend. Bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his skinny arms around himself, he cried, letting the salty tears mix with the now cold water.
A/N ohoho~who has walked in to find Deidara? so how was it? . I'd really appreciate your reviews! Tell me what you think! u