Jack wants to scream although he knows it won't do him any good. His dad bought this house with bullet proof glass and sound proof walls. There is no way he can gain the attention of his neighbors. Tears stream down his pale face as his father limps towards him, a drunken look on his face. His dad has a sick grin on his face and a beer bottle dangles from his hand.
Jack stumbles back, his hand reaching randomly for the door knob. "Oh, come on Jack," the father cooed. "I just want to get to know you."
Tears fall like mini waterfalls from Jack's ice blue eyes. He shakes his head, "No."
His dad's eyes go fiery with anger and he shouts, "Goddamnit Jack, I'm your father and you will listen to me!"
Finally Jack is against the front door and his shaky hand finds the door knob. His father notices and approaches, quicker this time. "If you open that door I swear-" Before Jack can turn the knob, his father throws the beer bottle at Jack and hits his hand.
Jack screams as the glass shatters and cuts his hand. With a wince he swings the door open and bolts, his father calling threats after him. "Jack! You get back here Goddamnit!"
Jack keeps running, not wanting to look back. The tears are falling harder now and feirce sobs rack his entire body. He grasps his hand as blood oozes from the gashes and smears against his hand. He rounds a corner and sits, cuddling his knees. He shakily removes his hand and gasps at the torn sight of his bloody hand. The gashes are deep and will need stitches, this he knows.
With great effort, he shakily stands, his night black hair hooding his eyes. He stumbles from the alley and makes his way through the slightly illuminated streets towards the nearest hospital. His breaths are raspy and he wonders how he can ever go back...he can't even say home. That hell gate isn't home.
With that thought echoing through his brain, he races torwards the safe haven of the hospital.