moved

Boq laid in the tiny bed he was being made to sleep in, though sleep was completely impossible. He wasn’t sure where they were, some random house his father had brought them to, telling him it’s where they were going to hide for a while. 

He was terrified, terrified out of his mind, and he just wanted to go home. But every time he even thought about trying to escape or call for help, he was reminded of the gun constantly kept on his father’s side, and the promise that if he tried ‘anything stupid’, not only would he die, but so would everyone he cared about. He couldn’t risk anything happening to them, he just couldn’t.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, he hasn’t had any way of keeping track of what day it was, but it felt like it had months, years even. He felt like he was never going to go home. Never see his mother again, or his friends, or the rest of his family. He hoped they were okay, okay without him. Especially his mother.

He doesn’t know how long he’d been laying there, just thinking, not sleeping. But suddenly there’s loud footsteps making their way towards the room he’s staying in, and the door is bursting open. He jumps about a foot in the air.

“Get the hell up, boy. Now! We’re leaving, it’s no good here anymore.” His father commands, his tone cold and unforgiving, and Boq doesn’t have to think twice before he’s springing out of bed and onto his feet. “Hurry the hell up, grab your shit and let’s go!”

“Y-yes sir.” He said softly, grabbing the small bag that only held two changes of clothes, and a toothbrush. The only reason he even had them was because his father didn’t want him ‘smelling like shit’. Though, the toothbrush was pretty pointless considering he’d only eaten a handful of times since he’d been with his father, and it was only small meals.

“Go!” His father pointed to the door, and Boq ran as quickly as he could out of it, his father right on his heels. He walked down the rest of the hallway and to the stairs. “I swear to god, boy, if you don’t walk faster, you’re gonna regret it.”

But for some reason, that he can’t quite explain, instead of walking faster, the words make him walk slower, and when he reaches the stop of the stairs, he comes to a complete stop. Which then resulted in his father nearly running right into him.

“What the fuck, you idiot?! Can’t you listen?!” 

And before he even knows what’s happening, he’s falling forward, falling down the hard, stone, staircase, tumbling all the way down.

When he finally lands at the bottom, the only thing he can process is pain, a whole lot of pain, and he wants to scream but instead it comes out in a quiet whimper. His chest feels like it’s on fire and his head feels like it’s been cracked open, and moving sounds like a nightmare.

It isn’t long before his father is joining him at the bottom of the staircase. “Get the fuck up and let’s go!” He yells, but Boq is pretty sure he can’t move, and so he just lays there feeling helpless. “Now!”

He still doesn’t move though and is rewarded with a kick to his back, and that’s when the scream is finally released from his throat and tears instantly begin to well up in his eyes. 

“I swear to fucking god.” Then a hand is grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he’s being forced to stand. “Shut up and walk. Now.” 

And so, Boq forces himself to begin to walk, which causes pain so bad that he feels like he’s going to throw up, and he realizes that he’s bleeding, mainly from his head, but he can’t do anything about that now. Instead he bites the insides of his cheeks to keep from screaming in pain again and forces himself to walk with his father the rest of the way to the car.

He has no idea how he’s possibly going to get through this, but he has to. He has no choice, and as climbs in the back of the car, he has to sit in the back so he can easily lay down if they pass a cop car, he forces himself to think about good things. About his mom, watching movies curled up on the couch together. His friends, just the four of them, staying over each other’s houses and staying up all night. Even as he’s thinking all these happy thoughts though, he watches as tears, mixed with blood, drip onto his hand. And the mind numbing pain that is making him sick begins to take over, which just results in more tears and finds himself laying down anyways.