//------------------------------//
// 3 
// Story: Child's Toy 
// by Public Reader 
//------------------------------//

In a house, a child is laying face down on the floor. Upon the child's face is a red mark in the shape of a hand. Bestriding the child is a father, whose face is red with anger. The child, however, is not crying, he knows he can't show fear, his eyes lack tears and surprise from the abrupt awakening.

"Your late," the man spat, "Always late. I say to be up by 5 and what do you do?"

He stopped and turned to the side, staring at the plastic clock on the bedside table. The small LED diodes emitting the number 5:25 in red. He reutrned his gaze to the child, and seeing him still on the ground encreased his rage.

"Hey ya little shit," he said as he picked the child up and threw him aginst the wall,"You already had enough nap time so get to work."

The child staggered up, and walked out of the room. The man however just layed down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

When the kid was in the hallway he walked out of the view of his dad, checked where his had hit the wall, some bruising would appear but other then that all was normal. He brisk walked down the hallway and stopped by a closet. This closet was opened, a cleaning bucket was removed, gloves put on, and then was pushed into the nearest bathroom. 


An Hour Later


He walked out of the bathroom and took his first breath of chemical-free air. He was used to spending hours at a time with the smell of chemicals, but he also loved the feeling of relief when the pure air rushed back into his lungs. He went back down the hallway to the kitchen, where he began his work of disenfecting the already clean counters that he had washed yesterday.

He had finished the counters and started on the cabenits, when one of the ones he was cleaning opened. The lock his father installed had not been closed all the way the previous night. There was food in there. His mouth watered at the amount of food that wasn't table scraps or trash. His mind rushed the thought of eating all he could, but he also knew that he would instantly be caught. 

He stopped cleaning and listened, and when no sound was heard he grabbed the nearest thing he could and stuffed it in his pocket. He then set the lock, closed the door, and continued on his cleaning.


2 Hours later


He sighed. Looking over the floor with a mop in hand. He was finished with the chores of the day. He dumped the dirty water, replaced the cleaning products to the bucket, and put it all back in the closet. He went through a hallway and stopped in front of a door. He knocked, and after hearing a familiar grunt, opened the door. 

Inside the room was 2 bookshelves cramped with books that were old and un properly taken care of, a desk, and a chair with a man who smelled of coffee and alcohol. He approached the man with the caution of a deer to a human. As soon as he saw his father's eye he began to speak. 

""I finished my chores," he said, knowing that he only could make one out of two decisions, both of which would end up with their own consequences. 

The man turned to look at him, stared for a while, stared back out into the abyss. 

"Ok, you can leave." He mustered, breathing out the toxic fumes of the freshly drunk alcohol. 

He then ran to the front door and burst outside. He started to go down the street, but then stopped. Across the street was the group of kids. They were not aware of the daily target leaving the "protection" of his home. The child was quickly aware of their lack of perception,  and began to sneak away. However one of the kids acknowledged his movement and picked up a rock,  and threw it towards the kid. Which struck him below his eye. 

Immediately the other kids were cognizant of their sworn enemy, and began to run towards him in order to berate the youngster. This caused him to take off in the direction of the back of his house, he then immediately passed the bush set under his window. Seeing this he aborted his task of running by deciding to hide.

He pushed his way to the back of the bush, where he saw the doll. He crawled through the bush and sat down next to it and began to tear up. He held on to the doll and pulled it closer to him. Tears streaked down his face and proceeded to burn as they mixed into the newly formed cut on his cheek.  He pulled his knees close to him and went into the fetal position. His breath became sharp and deep, causing his body to violently shake with each inhale, and shudder with the exhales. He continued this for a couple minutes and with every exhale the shakes weakened, until he went into a silent cry.

He took a deep, long breath, then wiped away the tears and blood from his face. He rested the doll on his knees and smiled. 

"You're the only one who hasn't attacked me. "He whispered "but I know everything they say is pretty much true, all I can try to do is stay together. If my dad sees me cry he will get even worse. " he stopped talking and looked down for a moment. "So you'll have to keep this a secret,  ok?" His gaze went back up at the doll as he spoke. "Good."

He grabbed the doll and returned to hugging it. As he was doing so,  the doll's eyes flashed a small sparkle, which went unnoticed to the child, who was to busy basking in the safety of the toy.