Three: Where are you?

Max couldn't stop wondering whether or not he should tell his father about the threat. His dad didn't have the money, Max was sure, and he didn't even know how much his father owed. Worse, if he did tell his dad, it would be taken out on Max himself.

He wanted to give his father some time to prepare, but the consequences were too great. Max decided to kept the threat to himself.

He got up the next morning on time and delivered all of the papers. School was unexceptional. He was distracted by his worry and couldn't focus at all. He was glad when it was finally over.

Max put away his bike and entered the mobile home. He would only grab a snack and then meet Leon at the skate park. He would probably stay there for a while to keep out of his father's hands.

Max pushed open the door and flinched away. His father stood in the doorway, leering. "Jared told me about the new 'deadline.'" Max looked up at him fearfully. "This is your fault, you know. It's because of you he feels like he can threaten me."

Max's heart was in his throat as the monster pointed a meaty finger. "Because. Of. You." Max recognized the look on his father's face only to well. He whipped around and bolted, but his father grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt and dragged him back. Max slumped, knowing it was over.

Max curled into a ball under his father's touch, muttering no protests. The monster laughed, his voice booming, and held Max up to punch him in the face. The punch connected with Max's cheek and he closed his eyes. Another hit his jaw and he reached up to cover his face. The punches were hard and precise, not like when his father was drunk. It was almost better when he was drunk.

The monster threw Max to the floor and kicked him in the ribs, over and over until Max sobbed. Pain was crossing his body in a million directions. Something gave way and Max had to bite his cheek to keep from screaming.

He sighed with relief as blackness began to seep into the edges of his vision. A few kicks later, when the pain was almost unbearable, he finally passed out.

Ten hours later

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He groaned. It kept buzzing, even when Max angrily told it to shut up. How did it even survive the assault? Max shook his head. He barely felt like he'd survived.

Max blearily opened his eyes. He was laying on his side in the living room. Everything flooded back at once. His body ached horribly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He checked the screen. It was one a.m. Max had thirty-seven notifications. One was from Jordan, and the rest from Leon.

Jordan (2:40): Are you ignoring me?

Leon (3:10): You're ten minutes late bro. Lateness is a vice ;)

Leon (3:40): I don't need to be stood up by you and Natalie in the same week

Leon (4:10): ok seriously where are you

Leon (5:25): I left the skate park. P.S. are you alright?

Leon (6:40): Max?

Max flipped the phone shut and thought about what had happened. Chances were, his father was out gambling and chasing his loses. That meant he was safe for the time being. He pushed himself up, going as slowly as possible.

He took stock of his injuries. His face would bruise, but it'd be alright. The kicks had done more damage, though. The cut on his stomach had begun to gush blood and at least one rib was cracked. He had to breathe shallowly.

As far as he could tell, he would be sore, but only the rib and cut would cause any problems. He pushed himself up, forcing himself not to scream and to stay conscious, and walked to the bathroom. He looked at his body in the mirror. It was one of worst times, for sure. He looked like death warmed over. He was bleeding from several small cuts and the bruises were already starting to come in.

He took an incredibly painful shower, watching the water turn pink as it ran down the drain. As he sat there, he started to think. If his father didn't kill him, Jared would. This could be his only chance to leave.

He'd thought about it before, but where would he go? What would he do? It was only April—it would've been better to wait for the summer, when no adults would be suspicious of a kid out during school time. But waiting was a luxury he did not have.

Max laid down on the bed. He charged his phone and set an alarm for three hours, giving himself some resting time before he had to get started. He was terrified, but enough was enough. It was time to leave.