Behind Closed Doors
Summary: Everyone in high school always assumed that Sharpener was a popular jock from a rich family. What people see in public is very different from what his home life is actually like.
Warning: Story contains death, illicit drugs, abuse both physical and sexual
Yelling and screaming could be heard throughout the whole neighbourhood. The sound of breaking glass and a fist hitting flesh constantly. A young boy sat in the corner of the room crying, trying to make the sounds of his mothers screams stop, wishing that someone would come and help. But no one came, no one ever came. The whole street either didn't want to be involved, or were too scared to attempt to do anything to help.
The young boy looked up. He wished he hadn't. But once he looked, he couldn't turn away. Bruised, bleeding and beat up body of his mother was spread out before him. Clothes torn and soiled. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh continued. The screams had stopped. She had stopped fighting back. Just taking the beating. After five minutes his father seemed to lose interest. Why did his father have to hurt his mother? Is that what all father's did? He huddled further into the corner, praying his father didn't notice him. The drunken man didn't even glance in his direction as he left the room, complaining that there was no more alcohol in the house. Once the young boy was satisfied that his father was long gone and would not walk back into the room unexpectedly, he moved out of his corner over to his mother.
"Mummy, wake up he's gone now," the six year old said to his unconscious mother. Shaking her trying to get some movement from her. This wasn't the first time. He ran to the bathroom and got a cloth to clean up some of his mother's wounds. Just like she did for him whenever he was hurt. Next he got a pillow and a blanket. Gently he lifted his mothers head onto the pillow. Covering them both in the blanket. Snuggling into the injured woman. Curling up and falling asleep. Staying alert enough so that he could hear his father when he returned.
It was late into the night when the young boy woke up. He was surprised that he was still on the floor. Normally his mother would wake up and put him to bed. She didn't even stir as he sat up. It was hard to see in the dim light, but he could tell that her colouring wasn't right. He shuffled closer to shake his mother, in an attempt to wake her. As soon as he touched her he could feel how cold and stiff his mother was. She also wasn't breathing and that worried the young boy greatly.
"Mummy wake up, I need you," the child shouted. He waited and got no response. Tears flowed down his face. She still didn't wake up.
He stood up slowly and backed away from his mother. As quickly as he could he turned and dashed towards his room, diving under his bed where he remained for the rest of the night. He didn't fall back asleep. He kept hoping his mother would wake up and check on him. She never did. He heard his father come home in the early hours of the morning. Crashing and cursing as he made his way to his bedroom.
It was just after lunch time when the young boy made his way out from under his bed. Sometime after the sun came up, he somehow managed to fall asleep. He tip toed towards the lounge room. Tears welling up in his eyes. His mother, she was still in the same position as when he left the room. That was where he remained, until he his father emerge from his bedroom. He didn't have time to find a hiding place.
"Hey Megumi, make me my breakfast," the hangover man demanded. The boy was pushed to the floor as his father walked into the room. He clenched his jaw as he wanted his father kicking his mother in the ribs. "Now! I don't have all day."
His father looked down and realised that she wasn't moving. Instantly sobering, his facing paling considerably. He checked his wife's vitals. The man began swearing most horrifically when he couldn't find any signs of life.
"Sharpener, go get daddy a shovel," the boys hangover father said quietly.
"Why?" Sharpener asked, preparing to run.
"So I can bury Megumi."
"Why do you need to bury mummy?" Sharpener asked his father. Asking questions was never a good thing, but he asked anyway.
"Because your mother is dead. Now go and get the shovel before I kill you as well." Sharpener nodded and ran out of the room as fast as possible. He knew that his mother was dead, but hearing his father actually say she was dead, made it real.
He returning with a shovel and followed his father to the backyard. His father started digging the whole, that would become his mother's grave. Before too long he handed that job. He cried as he dug. His father not scolding him for the tears. Normally he'd get in trouble for crying, because boys don't cry ... apparently. He'd seen pleanty of the men who visited his father crying in the past. His old man pulled up a chair, opened a beer and supervised.
"If anyone asks your mother is on holidays."
"Yes sir," Sharpener answered his father.
"And after she had been gone for a few months, I'll start telling people that the bitch ran off with another man. Abandoning me and our young son." Sharpener sobbed again. He didn't want people thinking of his mother like that, his mother was an angel, not a bitch like his father described.
He'd been his father's mini servet ever since his mother's death. Making all the meals, cleaning the house and maintaining a vegetable garden that was planted ontop of his mother's grave. He hadn't been allowed to attend school since his mother's death a few days beforehand, which upset him. School had been his only escape.
He was in the middle of cleaning the bathroom when the phone rang. The young boy ran over to the phone and answered. He knew that his father got angry if the person on the other end of the phone was a potential client. He had no idea what his father sold but it was the only income that they had.
"Hello I'm Miss Bell from Dragon Ball State Elementary School. Would I be able to speak to Mr or Mrs Paper?" One of the teachers from Sharpener's was on the phone. She didn't teach his class often, but knew who she was.
"I'll get my dad," Sharpener said, trying to make himself sound as sick as possible.
Sharpener ran to his father's room before he could wait for a response from his teacher.
"Sir, wakeup. My school is on the phone and needs to talk to you. You need to tell them that I have been home sick."
His father grumbled and answered the phone. He sounded much more civil on the phone then he actually was.
"Bloody woman, enrolling you in school," his father yelled after hanging up the phone. "Young man, you are never to miss school again. Otherwise those bloody teachers will get child services around to investigate why you aren't attending."
Sharpener nodded, glad that he would get to go to school again.