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- So, the poster after me should be Kate/Johanna, and then as per what I'd planned others can post.
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<SIZE size="50">The return home had not been pleasant. As could be expected. It wasn't like at any time the two had actually been on good terms, but it was worse now. Worse than it had ever been before in the short fourteen years of the boys life. And consider the circumstances it was pretty hard to believe that things could actually get worse. It was the morning of the first Monday of the holiday, and coming to on the floor of the bedroom was not something he liked to repeat. Not the way in which he could bare breathe without causing waves of pain to erupt over his body. Or the way the black and white image around him appeared more blurry than usual. All of which were things to be expected by the way he'd just been treated by his father. A rather terrible and horrific way that had left the teen on the floor of his own bedroom desperately clinging to the memories of the past year in the silent hope that he would be able to create more. Things at school had never really been better. He knew that today was an important day. He knew that this day had to be more perfect than any other. But Stefan Archer also realised that he couldn't go. Not looking like he did, and no amount of clothes would ever be able to mask what had happened to him. He shouldn't go meet Kate for their date. No matter how much he loved her. The one he'd finally plucked up enough courage to ask her to. The glimmer of hope and normality in his otherwise hopeless life. Sighing loudly, he then winced, considering the sighing actually cause his chest to erupt in an odd pain. Slowly, Stefan sat himself up. He glanced around the room, and was glad that his vision had almost completely returned to normal. As normal as a boy with no colour vision's eye sight could really be. He didn't really care, everything hurt, he was hungry and slightly cold, but he would meet her. He would tell her, he would ask for her help. Because at this point, with his father acting in such a fashion there was no way he could keep going. His friends all talked of how brave he was, how he kept going when most others wouldn't, but he always thought they had just met their limit. The point where it just becomes too hellish to handle. And it appeared Stefan had finally reached that point. But in knowing that he had friends who would help him, friends willing to accept him for all his faults he still had that last glimmer of hope that would then make his life better. That he knew if he asked for it, that they would actually help him. They wouldn't let him go back. And Stefan was at the point where he was just so scared of what would happen to him that running seemed like the only viable option he had left.
However the most difficult of challenges that the boy would have to face would be actually asking his father if he could go. It wasn't like his father had at all been on speaking terms with him. He knew that asking his father would either end with a no and a punch across the face, or a yes and a punch across the face. Either way he was going to get hurt. It was just the decision of how hurt he was actually going to get. If he'd then be saved, or if he'd be stuck in the place he'd come to refer as hell. Something that he knew he would never be able to look at without the memories of the horrible way he was treated flooding back to his mind. He knew no matter how hard he tried, no matter how far he ran the memories would always be there. And he just needed that yes to be able to go, to be given the chance of running and attempting to overcome everything that had happened in that house. All of the times when his mind told him to not bother. But now so close, and so ready to leave it behind he just needed to be granted it. For his father to for once to do something that meant Stefan wasn't in pain. For once read between the lines and realise that letting him go would be his last task as father to Stefan. He had maybe never been before, and he probably won't ever win best father award but he was happy to at least let Stefan breathe at long last. To forget the colourblindness and the fact his mother's death was his fault and just let him never have to worry about if he'd make it to his next birthday. Slowly Stefan got to his feet. Using the nearest wall for support, and finding that his ankle was pretty much on fire. He was barely able to put any pressure on it. But really since everything was in pain Stefan Archer was hardly letting it dwell on his mind. He felt light headed and he had to close his eyes and breath deeply for a number of minutes. Attempting to make sure he didn't just collapse again or faint. He very slowly walked out of his room and to the bathroom that was just down the hall. He steps incredibly quiet, well as quiet as he could be. Reaching the bathroom, Stefan couldn't help but feel like that he wouldn't have to even ask for the help. One of his eyes was badly bruised, his nose had blood around it, his lip was split, he had a dark bruises on the side of his cheek. And that was only his face. There was no hiding it any more.
Heavy footsteps alerted Stefan to the fact that his father was awake and heading straight towards him. It was now or never really. Stefan knew that he had to try and if it failed, it failed. He'd find another way. He'd wait it out and not go back to his house after the second term. He very slowly washed his face with the cold water from the tap and felt his heart increase by the second as he knew what was about to happen. He knew that it wasn't going to be great, but he had to stay hopeful, and surprisingly it was something the Slytherin teen could do. Despite everything, it was his hope and his willingness to not give up that made him want to ask anyway, that made him want to ignore what his dad said about how much of a lesser human he was and made him want to continue living. Living and breathing. The angry shout of his name, struck a deep fear with Stefan but he swallowed as much of this fear as possible and exited the bathroom. His father was standing at the top of the stairs. Stefan met the man's eyes briefly and then looked down at the ground between them. His father noting this reluntancy to meet his eyes was over to Stefan in a matter of strides. He took Stefan by the chin and raised his head. Stefan hated this gesture. His heart was at twice the speed. The fear he felt was clear in his eyes. "Dad, please could I get the next terms school supplies" Stefan whispered, his voice quiet, afraid. However his father didn't appear to be listening. He was just staring down at Stefan with the same hate that he always had. The hate that made Stefan want to scream to the high heavens about what he could've possibly done to deserve it. "Dad" Stefan was cut of by a blinding pain in his stomach. Sharp and then wet. Stefan didn't even have time to register what was going before his world turned black and he crumbled to the ground.
However the most difficult of challenges that the boy would have to face would be actually asking his father if he could go. It wasn't like his father had at all been on speaking terms with him. He knew that asking his father would either end with a no and a punch across the face, or a yes and a punch across the face. Either way he was going to get hurt. It was just the decision of how hurt he was actually going to get. If he'd then be saved, or if he'd be stuck in the place he'd come to refer as hell. Something that he knew he would never be able to look at without the memories of the horrible way he was treated flooding back to his mind. He knew no matter how hard he tried, no matter how far he ran the memories would always be there. And he just needed that yes to be able to go, to be given the chance of running and attempting to overcome everything that had happened in that house. All of the times when his mind told him to not bother. But now so close, and so ready to leave it behind he just needed to be granted it. For his father to for once to do something that meant Stefan wasn't in pain. For once read between the lines and realise that letting him go would be his last task as father to Stefan. He had maybe never been before, and he probably won't ever win best father award but he was happy to at least let Stefan breathe at long last. To forget the colourblindness and the fact his mother's death was his fault and just let him never have to worry about if he'd make it to his next birthday. Slowly Stefan got to his feet. Using the nearest wall for support, and finding that his ankle was pretty much on fire. He was barely able to put any pressure on it. But really since everything was in pain Stefan Archer was hardly letting it dwell on his mind. He felt light headed and he had to close his eyes and breath deeply for a number of minutes. Attempting to make sure he didn't just collapse again or faint. He very slowly walked out of his room and to the bathroom that was just down the hall. He steps incredibly quiet, well as quiet as he could be. Reaching the bathroom, Stefan couldn't help but feel like that he wouldn't have to even ask for the help. One of his eyes was badly bruised, his nose had blood around it, his lip was split, he had a dark bruises on the side of his cheek. And that was only his face. There was no hiding it any more.
Heavy footsteps alerted Stefan to the fact that his father was awake and heading straight towards him. It was now or never really. Stefan knew that he had to try and if it failed, it failed. He'd find another way. He'd wait it out and not go back to his house after the second term. He very slowly washed his face with the cold water from the tap and felt his heart increase by the second as he knew what was about to happen. He knew that it wasn't going to be great, but he had to stay hopeful, and surprisingly it was something the Slytherin teen could do. Despite everything, it was his hope and his willingness to not give up that made him want to ask anyway, that made him want to ignore what his dad said about how much of a lesser human he was and made him want to continue living. Living and breathing. The angry shout of his name, struck a deep fear with Stefan but he swallowed as much of this fear as possible and exited the bathroom. His father was standing at the top of the stairs. Stefan met the man's eyes briefly and then looked down at the ground between them. His father noting this reluntancy to meet his eyes was over to Stefan in a matter of strides. He took Stefan by the chin and raised his head. Stefan hated this gesture. His heart was at twice the speed. The fear he felt was clear in his eyes. "Dad, please could I get the next terms school supplies" Stefan whispered, his voice quiet, afraid. However his father didn't appear to be listening. He was just staring down at Stefan with the same hate that he always had. The hate that made Stefan want to scream to the high heavens about what he could've possibly done to deserve it. "Dad" Stefan was cut of by a blinding pain in his stomach. Sharp and then wet. Stefan didn't even have time to register what was going before his world turned black and he crumbled to the ground.