Luke

Luke

The little boy took a step back from his father. He was a big man, angry as hell while he tried to grab the child. Luke hated it when he was like this. He tried to run out of the nearest door, but a massive hand covered his shoulder dragging him back. He let out a scream, knowing he was in big trouble. David picked his son up, so his legs dangled in the air. Shaking him violently, he yelled, "You're a disappointment, boy."
Luke was terrified. "Please don't hurt me?" he pleaded.
"Why do you disappoint me so much?" Needing to teach his boy some rules, he threw him against the wall. The child stayed still. "Get up boy? Stop messing about."
Still he didn't move. David stumbled to his son knocking over a small table, a bottle fell to the carpet. He crouched down, now worrying that he'd taken things too far. David placed a hand on the boy's head. "Get up, Luke. You're scaring me now."
His eyes opened. The first thing he said as he tried to get up, "Where am I?"
David was relieved, but angry with himself. "You are in the living room at home. How do you feel?"
"I hurt all over," he replied, realising what had happened. He stared at his father, then at the bottle of whisky near his feet. "You did this to me."
The man began to cry, then he answered while closing his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief, "I'm so sorry for what I did. I am a terrible father."
Swiftly the boy stood up and running through the open door which led to the hallway, made his way to the entrance. Unlocking the front door he ran out into the road not knowing where he was heading. A little distance away the forest stood. Luke decided to go in that direction. In there he could hide from his father, in this place he felt safe. Making his way through the little gate, he stopped, looking back up the road his father was nowhere to be seen.