“GET DOWN HERE YOU BRAT!”

In case you are wondering, yes I am a slave to my family. Well mostly to my father. It wasn’t always like this though. It used to be just me, my dad, and my two brothers. When our mom died she was murdered a week after I was born. Since that day, Dad was mad and blamed me for her death, the ones who actually took care of me were my real brothers. Kim Heechul, and Kim Kibum but he liked to be called Key. I started getting beaten when I was 4. I was helping Key umma (I call him and Heechul umma cause they were both divas, and like real mothers to me) cook dinner, when dad asked to see me in my room. When I stepped through the door, he shut it and immediately started punching and kicking me. He kept on saying that the death of his wife, my mom, was my fault. Heechul umma was able to stop dad before it got to the point where I could die.

When I was 5, Key disappeared with his boyfriend Jonghyun. Heechul and I had met him many times before then when we went shopping with him. I loved to watch the coyote show us magic tricks with his ability.

Yeah he was a demon. His ability is to control blood by the way.

Heechul disappeared when I was 10.He left with his boyfriend Hangeng, a Chinese demon. He was a dragon that could control fire. His tricks were better the Jonghyun’s cause he didn’t hurt himself  with his own ability all the time. But before he left he promised to comeback for me. In a way I am glad they left before it came to how I live now.

When I was 11, our father remarried, and the wife and her one son Joon are both spoiled brats in my opinion. When they moved in I rarely ever ate at home, I was a slave to them, and my beatings that my father already gave me increased. And I know that you are wondering if I have tried to run away. And I have but my father found me immediately. I had ran to Heechul’s friend Hongki. So it was easy for him to get to me. After I got back to the house he confined me there except for school of course. I even have to follow rules.

I can’t leave the house except for school, no friends, I can’t do better than Joon in school, I have to be obedient and polite to my parents, and I can’t tell anyone about this abuse.

I walk slowly down the stairs to meet my step-mother holding her belt whip. She looks angry, but she always does when she looks at me.

“What is it Umma?” I ask trying to be polite, even though I hate this .

“You know what this is. Turn around and take off your shirt. And put your hands on the wall.” She said.

. I forgot I did better than Joon on our last test.

As I turn around I am shaking from the fear. As I take off my shirt my ‘umma’ smirked at the old bruises from my many other beatings start to turn purple. While the cuts from my other whippings were turning red because of any infections that I would get.

I put my hands on the wall and the torture starts.

She grunts with each slash she makes on to my back. Each of her strikes makes me scream in pain. And my nails dig into the wall.

After 20 minutes of this torture she stops and sends me back to my room. Which by the way is just a bed, clothes, and school books. The bed is crap, I sleep on the floor a lot cause it is better than the mattress, if you could call it that.

As I walk to my room the pain from the whipping is unbearable. But I am afraid that I will pass out from blood loss before I get to my room. But luckily I make it. If I hadn’t ‘dad’ would have kicked my face on his way to work. He’s a police officer, so he is almost impossible to get in trouble for child abuse.