Invisible Bruises

A boy, trapped in a world full of hatred, finds he has a hidden power that allows him to escape from it all.


4. Four

Rattling the door handle, he pushed against the old, heavy door. The wood had warped over time so it took several attempts until he was finally able to burst through the door into his ,other's room.

It looked like a bomb had gone off. Clothes were strewn everywhere, covering the whole of the floor and several pieces of furniture were misplaced or turned on their sides. Something groaned from underneath the mountain of garments.

Rushing over, he began to desperately uncover what he knew to be his mother. In his desperation, he felt hot tears brimming in his eyes as he fought against the endless sea of clothes.

Skin. He felt it. His finger had brushed against something he was certain was his mother's arm. He ripped away the clothes that hid her.

her body lay, broken and bruised, limbs sticking out in directions he would not habe believed were possible.

"Mum?" he said shakily. The only reply was her wheezing breathing and her eyelids flickering.

he gave her a gentle shake to see if it would wake her up, and he stopped when he saw he grimace from the pain.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, starring up at him.

"Run." her eyes closed and her breathing slowed until the gentle movement of her chest rising and falling ceased to exist.

He ran.

Not looking back, not wanting to look back, he scarpered down the stairs to the front door, pulling the handle with all his might, willing it to open.

Locked. he saw the bolt across the door and there were no keys in sight.

The world around him began to spin, his mind filling with dread. His legs collapsed and he lay in a crumpled mess in front of the door, so close, yet so far away from freedom.

"And where do you think you are going?" The sly voice slithered around him, mockingly. A large hand grabbed his jumper and dragged him to his feet. he pushed Adam roughly along the hall and threw him into the kitchen, the hard tiles hitting his back, sending fierce shots of pain throughout his body.

He watched, wide eyed, as his father turned and reached for a knife.

The tingling sensation began again, he felt it spread all the way from his toes to his head and this time he knew what to expect when he looked down. His body had vanished.

His father turned, expecting to see the helpless boy cowering in front of him, but instead an empty space met his eyes. He growled, sounding just like an angry dog.

"There's no use in hiding, boy. I'll find you, you know. You cannot escape   me." He looked around and, seeing nothing, he exited the room and begun his search for the mischievous, insolent child.

Adam sat still, not daring to move in case he made a noise that would have alerted his father to his presence.

One he had gone, however, Adam stood and looked around the kitchen for anything that would help him. The phone sat on the counter, but who would he call? He had no relatives to speak of and the police would never believe a story of a boy who only escaped the clutches of his evil father because he could turn invisible. They would just think it was someone prank calling them.

Keys. A fat seat of keys - his fathers probably. They sat innocently on the table, enticing him over, Snatching them up, he tip toed lightly to the front door. However, in his effort to find the right key, he accidently knocked over a jar on a small wooden table, send the contents of it cascading to the floor. He heard his father roar and quickly shoved the key into the lock and turned it.


He escaped through the door just in time to see a monstrous figure left in the doorway, shouting his name until his voice went hoarse.

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