A Messed Up Childhood

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It hurt. It hurt bad. The child lay on the ground, a broken, bloodied, bruised mess. Crying as silent as possible, Robbie choked down a sob, afraid that his father would hear. Glanni had been out most of the day, causing trouble with friends. Upon returning home, he walked through the door and saw his younger brother lying in the kitchen floor.

“Robbie! Are you okay?” he asked, panicked.

Robbie shook his head, afraid to make a sound.

Glanni knelt down next to him, gently assessing his wounds. Suddenly, a blow to the back of his head had him falling forward right on top of his sibling. It didn’t knock him out, but it rendered him dazed a few moments, unable to do much but lay there, trying to regain his bearings.

Once he did, he got to his feet and whipped around to see their father standing there, beer bottle in hand, a rather amused expression on the man’s face.

“See what I did to the little runt?” he asked, looking down at Robbie with disgust. “Just a little teaser of what I’m going to do to you.”

That just made Glanni angry, and he charged at his father, knocking him down as the man’s slight drunkenness made him rather easy to barrel over. He landed a few punches before being thrown off. The young Fae’s wings flickered in anger, and he again got back to his feet.

However, as soon as he did, he was met with a punch to the face. The sharp pain caused him to stumble back, hands going up to his obviously broken nose. He hadn’t even noticed his father approaching, knife in hand, until it was too late. Burning pain coursing through his shoulder snapped him back to reality.

Glanni barely had a chance to react before he was thrown to the ground once more. Panic set in as he realized that his father had a grip on one of his wings. They fluttered as he tried to get away; however, once Ríkarður stood on the boy, he was stuck.

“Wh-what are you doing?!”

“You’ll find out soon enough… I can’t wait to see your mother’s face once I get done with you.”

“Don’t! Please, just… I’ll do anything! Just don’t hurt us anymore.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ríkarður asked, bringing the knife to the wing he had in hand, beginning to saw at the joint that held the wing to Glanni’s back.

Glanni screamed, feeling the ligaments and tendons being destroyed.

“Scream all you want. No one will save you.”

Ríkarður Þórðarsson was an impatient man, and this situation was no different. Deciding that cutting the wing was taking too long, he placed his foot between them, ripping the wing from Glanni’s back, throwing it to the ground. Glanni couldn’t even react, the pain so intense that he was rendered immobile. Ríkarður wasted no time doing the same to the other wing, tossing it aside as well.

“Beautiful. You boys brought this on yourself, remember that. You’re worthless, you’re unlovable. This is the life you deserve.” he smiled, turning to leave the room--not before getting another beer.

Robbie--who had been quiet the whole time out of fear--stared at Glanni with tears in his eyes. Once he was sure their father was gone, he crawled over to his older brother. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t say a thing.

Glanni looked up at him, weak from bleeding. “Robbie…”

“Y-yeah?”

“Run. Run like hell and don’t look back.”