4 CHOICES AND CONSEQUENCES II

Bang!!....

The sound of someone at the door echoed through a house, the sound making a fat middle-aged man groan as he turned in his sleep." Quinn, get the door!" he said. But no one answered him...

Bang!!....

The person at the door was getting agitated and the knocking increased in intensity.

"Quinn, get out of that room and open the damn door!!! Don't make me come there!!" The man finally shouted; the fat on his chin vibrating in time with the yell

....

We find Quinn in a small room. The room had no windows and no bed. He lay at the very corner of the room in a mat and a fetal position, trying to make himself as small as possible.

At the screaming of the man, he forced his eyes open and after a few failed attempts finally got up from the mat. He opened the door of his small room and walked out. The transition from darkness to light made him squint his eyes painfully, but the light also illuminated the scars all around his neck and down his arm in the shape of fists. He pulled down the long sleeve of the shirt he wore to hide them.

'Wouldn't want to get even more beatings' he bitterly thought.

He forced his limp to seem like a simple injury and walked down the hall towards the door to open it.....

"Hell-"

Quinn's word died in his mouth, and he had to look up..... and up.... and up, until finally, he came face to face with a literal giant.

'Woah' he thought

The man grunted as though he were used to the reaction, and Quinn thought he probably was. "Are you Quinn Jiang?" The man asked

Quinn nodded. Though the surname was not his original one.

The man then reached into a bag at his side. And that was when Quinn saw that the man was wearing the standard dispatch uniform for Sapphire city; a blue top with black knickers and a blue cap that had a Sapphire embroidered in it.

A book being shoved in his face by the man drew him out of his observations and he had to take two steps back before accepting it. He didn't want the man looking down his shirt and accidentally seeing the scars. He looked at the book and saw that it was completely worn. The title of the book was scratched over with only the word Warlords being visible. Quinn frowned.

The man grunted again, "You're the second person today I've seen with that same expression on your face...."

Quinn looked at the man, wondering what he meant by that, but the man simply presented a paper and pen for him to sign on. He accepted them but hesitated to sign them. He didn't even know who would be sending him a book.

The man saw the hesitant look on his face and sighed, "Look here kid, I traveled a long way to get this book to you, so just sign it so I can get back to my city. There nothing implicating, I promise"

Quinn then hesitantly signed the book and returned it to the man who turned and left immediately.

Quinn turned back into the house and made his way to his room. He was about to enter inside before he was promptly grabbed by the neck and yanked backward by a large hand

"What do you have there boy?" The middle-aged man asked. He grabbed the book from Quinn and dropped him on the floor "Hmm...what's this, a book?" he wondered as he scratched his large belly...

'No, it's an ice cream cone' Quinn thought sarcastically. He would have said something out loud, but he was too busy trying to bring his coughing fit to a minimum.

The man tried to open up the book but found that it wouldn't budge. He pulled and pulled on the book with all his strength, but couldn't feel it opening at all. He then lost interest in it just as quickly as he gained it and threw it to the floor behind him.

He turned to Quinn who was still on the floor, "You better not have stolen that book from anyone boy, else there'll be hell to pay. Now get up from there, I haven't had my lunch yet"

Quinn remained on the floor, and the man seemed to have lost his patience because he kicked him in the ribs to rouse him, "I said get up boy!! Go get me my food!!" he bellowed...

Quinn weakly got up from the ground and began walking his way towards the kitchen. But not before throwing an unseen glare towards the man from behind his blue hair.

He got to the kitchen and put the pan on the fire for making pancakes while readying the juice maker.

He knew that if he were to make any mistakes here, he would be beaten again so he was adamant not to. After all, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go to. As abusive as the man was, he was the only person who would take him in as a foster parent, all the other ones haven being reluctant to do so because he was already 17 bordering on 18 years. That was at least one saving grace he had, no matter what happens he swore that he would leave this house once he turned 18.

Quinn placed the juice on the kitchen table and then brought out the pancakes on a plate. The man sat down at the chair and got ready to eat while Quinn simply stood at the kitchen corner.

The man placed a single pancake in his mouth and promptly spat it out, "What nonsense is this!!" He screamed while rising from his chair, throwing it backward and into the ground. He glared at Quinn and immediately began stomping his way towards him.

Quinn meanwhile was wide-eyed, 'Wha-what happened?' he thought while trying to back away from the man. The collar of his shirt was grabbed, and he was suddenly flung through the air, straight towards a counter in the kitchen. He hit the counter back first, the kitchen utensils on it clattering to the floor and hitting him.

"What nonsense was that boy!! How dare you try to ruin my food, is this some sort of stupid teenage rebellion. I'll show you, rebellion boy, you won't even be able to walk again when I'm done with you!"

As the man said this he walked towards Quinn and began stomping and kicking his ribs and head. Quinn brought up his arms to protect himself but the kicks just kept coming.

Quinn was tired, he had been enduring this for so long, hoping to at least gain his freedom at the end of it all, but it all seemed like false hope. He knew he could've run away, but he knew no one and nowhere. His parents were dead and his brother was taken away from him when he was still just a baby.

A kick to the ribs had him gritting his teeth.

Another kick to the lungs had him grimacing.

A stomp to the head drew a deep cough from him.

But through it all, Quinn endured, until finally the man reached down to his neck and dragged him up to eye level. Not noticing that Quinn picked something up from the ground on his way up

"Well boy... what do have to say for yourself?" The man snarled

" fu....ck...y..o.....u" He snarled right back

"What was that?" The man brought him even closer with a face of utter disbelief.

Quinn placed his left arm on the man's forearm as leverage and brought his right hand back. The man's eyes widened in shock

"I SAID... FUCK YOU!!!" Quinn shouted, and swung his right arm forward, digging the knife in it deep into the man's eye.

"AH!!! You bastard!!" The man screamed as he let go of Quinn and feel in his back. Quinn quickly scrambled back onto the man and grabbed the knife again, drawing it out of the man's face.

Quinn screamed and stabbed down, he didn't know where the knife landed seeing as his eyes were closed, but he just kept on stabbing. Again, and again, and again, and again. Even after losing feeling in his arm, he kept stabbing, releasing all the frustrations of his life in the form of this violence.

He kept at it till he could no longer hear anything. His breath coming out in pants and grunts. He took one last deep breath before releasing the knife and opening his eyes only to find lifeless brown eyes staring back at him. He whimpered and tried to scramble backward, but his hands were too slippery causing him to slip backward and fall on his back.

He brought his shaking hands forward and stared at the blood on them with wide eyes.

His breath was erratic and he felt like he was going to vomit...

He killed him...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

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