Hatred

• Rebecca McElhatton, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2008

Harsh breaths echo about the solemn bedroom. A boy of ten lies on the floor, his white shirt is creased and stained with mud and blood. His moans and whimpers bring no comfort to the desolate place. In his ears, blood thumps thunderously; it is as though a thousand elephants are marching in the room above. His breaths are shallow, quick, and sharp as though this tousle-haired youngster is in pain. Tremendous pain. His body is rigid, and he is curled in a foetal position. Perhaps some display of tumult has happened and this is the final result? The boy rises slowly, so slowly that it’s painful to watch, his face is filled with dolefulness as his body quavers under his own weight. His teeth are ground together to prevent the pain from making it’s way out of the boys lungs and piercing the shrill silence. His eyes, oh his eyes are filled with abhorrent enigmas, the kind a young child should not know of. The task of moving to his bed is an arduous one, there are a multitude of cuts and bruises tattooing his delicate body and the back of his shirt has gashes in it that look to be from a whip or belt. The boy curls up on his bed; eyes glaze over, become hollow and have a complete lack of concern in them. Abruptly his bedroom door is thrust open and a menacing looing man stands there, eyes blazing and wearing a snarl on his face with a horse-whip in one hand.
“Stand up you filthy creature!” He yells with such force that saliva flies from his mouth and lands on the floor in puddles. The boy winces and stands, he lowers his eyes. “Come here now!” the man yells. As the boy makes his way over the father loses patience and walks towards him with determination and dominance.
“I said now you pathetic maggot!” his red eyes look he boy down, his arm deliberately reaches for the boys arm, he turns him around and holds him steadily. The man raises the hand with the whip and strikes the boy again and again. Whilst he strikes the boy, the man yells insolent and impudent words, tainting the boy. The boy cries out, tears stream down his face but the man has an ample of time and anger. All the while encouraged by the boys screams, the man gets angrier.