Ball Game

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This drabble contains; abusive language, violence, and thoughts of violence. Please only read if you are okay with that sort of stuff.

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It was a warm summer day. The sun was shining brightly behind a dark red furred fox, casting a shadow out right before him. Still though, he had his bright yellow eyes glued ahead of him, watching another fox taking position behind a dusty plate on the ground. He hit his bat lightly against the plate and swung it up to his shoulders, ready to swing. The pitcher, a dark skinned human boy, reared back, the small white-and-red ball clutched tightly in his hands. For a moment, there was an intense silence in the air as everyone watched the ball fly from the human's hand. It was moving in slow motion. Everything was moving slowly.

And suddenly the ball was flying straight though the air, heading right over the young red foxes head. 

An electrical feeling went through the air and a small cheer came out of his little mouth, quickly drowned out by a crowd of shouts and whoops from the bench. The swinger hit a home run. The swinger was the crowd's favorite right at this moment. Everyone loved him. Cheering him to run. To make it. And he did. The fox through the baseball bad to the ground and started to run, hitting the first plate, then the second, then the third.

Then he made it to the fourth plate. Home plate! The young fox and the crowd kept screaming and cheering as the fox touched the plate and jumped up. He did it! He got the point! Everyone really loved him! A loud buzzer sounded off into the air, signaling the end of the game. Monsters and humans ran down from the benches to cheer the winning team on, including the best player. That best player was surrounded. Crowded. The fox had to run past the fence and use his small body to maneuver his way over to the winner, only to be battered off by a few members of the crowd. The fox curled up his lips, then tried to move around to gain eyesight with the swinger.

Why was he so determined to see this swinger?

Because this swinger was his older brother. His cooler sibling. The one he wanted so badly to be like. 

As was customary of younger siblings. 

The fox swinger let out cheers of his own, yelling in excitement at how awesome and amazing he was, hollering about how great he was. The young fox let out a yell of his own, cheering and bouncing on his feet as a shot of fire ran straight into the air, exploding into little sparks. His brother's signature for his pride. The loosing team just sat idly by. No one was cheering them. No one was paying them any attention. No one likes losers.

And this young fox didn't want to be one.

"Jackson!" The young fox shouted in glee, once his older brother was put down. He grabbed his brother's jersey, smiling eagerly. His brother was a hero in his young eyes. All he wanted was for his brother to look down at him and high five him. 

However, his brother just pushed him aside and grabbed onto a female by her waist, kissing her on the lips. She was another fox, an orange one at that. His girlfriend. 

Despite being ignored, the young monster ran up to his brother again and grabbed his jersey, tugging a bit harder for attention, "Jackson! You did it! I can't believe it! You should've seen the look on the coach's face when you hit a homerun!" He shouted, begging for some kind of admiration from his hero. Yet again though, he was ignored. Being pushed off, he was left alone in the crowd of people. His brother just vanished. The monster looked around anxiously and tried to scent out his brother, only to receive a mix of different smells. It took a hand reaching into the crowd to pull him out and for him to be met with a familiar face.

His father.

His father was a tall, muscular fox monster himself. He had a very similar look to his sons, with a key difference being he had multicolored eyes. One blue, one golden yellow. The young fox' ears lowered once he caught a glimpse of his father's expression. He was mad. Madder then he's ever seen his father.

"What part of you're grounded did you not understand? Do you need my hand to tell you what it means? My gods you are such a disappointment," He growled angrily, dragging the boy away from the crowd of people. People who were still cheering on his brother and his team. The winners.

The young fox started to struggle, pleading for his father to let him go, only to get a hard pop to his face. He was then told to shut up. 

At the car stood his mother, smoking some kind of magically enhanced cigarette. She used to be a pretty ginger-brown fox in her youth, but having several children and smoking damaged her looks. And much like her looks, her personality wasn't much to brag about. Pulling the cigarette from her mouth, she flicked down a few ashes, "Him again? I thought you locked him down in the basement?" She asked, bringing the cancer stick back up to her mouth. The kit looked down at the ground as his father shouted about how she was supposed to have done it. That it was her responsibility. The two of them went back and forth for a solid few minutes before the kit was tossed into the backseat of the car. He looked up as his parents entered the car, his father angrily starting it up while his mother stared out the window. Honking his horn, his father shouted out the window for Jackson to hurry his ass up.

Of course his winner brother walked up to the car and leaned down at his mother's window. His dark hair falling on his face as a grin entered his face. "Hey, I'm going to catch a ride with Kandel and her parents. Don't wait up on me." He winked. His father gave a proud smile.

"One of my boys getting laid, what could be any better! You go get her son. It'd be better if you weren't home anyways, your brother is in a lot of trouble."

Jackson looked at the backseat at the young fan, who had taken to picking a bandage on his leg. "Pft, no surprise. What do you expect when you have a runt for a son? Ms. Donna did always teach us that magicless monsters were always quite problematic anyways."

"I think we need to blame your mother on that mistake. She wasn't even smoking when you and your siblings were born." The father laughed, getting a silent growl from his wife, and a chuckle from Jackson. He stood up and walked away, waving to his father and mother. There goes the hero. The cool sibling. The kit's stomach churned as the car started up and made its way down the road.

It didn't take long to reach the worn down home of this family. The exterior was very faded compared to the other homes around the home. The positive of this home, however, was a pretty garden growing at the front of the home. It was grown by the kit's mom, who seemed to only seem happy when gardening. Speaking of her, she got out of the car and walked up to the porch, heading inside after flicking a cigarette off to the side. Next was his father, who signaled his son out of the car. He did so, looking down at the ground.

They both walked into the house in silent, in which his father took off his belt. "Alright, seeing as how you decided that you were above the rules in this house, I'm going to have to teach you a lesson the old fashion way." His father growled, strengthening up the belt with a hard tug of his hands. The boy flinched and opened his mouth.

"Dad, I just wanted to-"

Smack

A hard slap from the belt hit the side of the boy, causing him to cry out and hold onto his side. "D-dad please! I-i just wanted to watch J-jackson!" 

Smack

"I don't give a fucking DAMN what you wanted to do. When I say you're grounded, it means you stay home and not sneak out of the damn house! Hold still, you little bitch!" His father shouted angrily, smacking the boy more and more with his belt. The boy, naturally, squirmed and sobbed, crying out for his mother to help him. Of course though, there was no response from the woman who was supposed to love him. To protect him. Hell, his own father was supposed to love and protect him too. It didn't seem to work out at all like that. 

"D-dad please! Please s-stop! It hurts! It hurts!" He screamed out, trying to protect his head with his slowly bruising hands, "I-i'm sorry! I'll never s-sneak out again! Please stop! Mommy help! Mommy please!"

The father only went harder and harder on the boy, until he finally got tired of hitting him with the leathery object. The boy was left shaking, bruised all over with his fur and hair a mess. Tears ran down his face as he gave a shaky glance up to his father. "You better man up and quit calling your joke of a mother, or else I'll fucking kill you. You fucking waste of skin."

He grabbed his son by the back of his neck and pushed him past the door, over by the stairs. "Go to your room. If I hear a fucking peep out of you, I'll burn you. Got it?" The fox growled, getting a 'yes sir' in response. The son walked up the stairs, whimpering and panting out from the pain he felt all over his body. He passed by his mother's room and found her sitting inside, just reading a book and drinking wine. She wasn't even concerned with him. This made the boy feel a large amount of sadness and confusion, before he hurried past her room and made it to his room.

He didn't understand why his family hated him so much. He really couldn't grasp it. He did as much as he could correctly. He dreamed of playing sports like his father and brothers, and he did decently enough at school. The boy never really lashed out at anyone, and whenever he did, he accepted his punishment. Yet, all he ever got in the end was snide remarks about his disabilities. He was magicless. He was a runt. The boy would never amount up to anything because he was nothing.

Maybe they were right...

Maybe he was meant to be nothing.

He was always supposed to be like this. The troubled child. The one everyone made fun of. The one everyone hated. Yeah. He was it. 

Feeling his sorrow turn to pure rage, he started to tear apart all his belongings, making a mess of his room. Lashing out at his toys. At his pillow. His books. His photos. Everything his hands could grab onto, he tore to shreds. His family hated him. His school hated him. So he might as well turn into the person everyone else saw in him, right? 

Picking up a photo of his father and brother, the boy paused his rage. They looked happy together. So, so happy...

He ripped it up to shreds before he could even think about what he was going to feel. Letting the pieces fall to the ground, the boy thought angry, vengeful thoughts. He wanted his father to die. He wanted his siblings to die. He wanted everyone to hurt and feel what he feels. He was powerless to everyone, but he wanted them all to hurt like he did. He wanted it so bad. If he ever had children, he'd never hurt them the way his father and mother did. He wouldn't ever.

"Dad."

What the-

"Dad!"

The world around the boy faded into a pure white, then into the cold, bleakness of his reality. 

The boy, now a man, had been passed out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey in his right hand with the remote in his left. He looked over to the voice that had been calling him. A little cream colored girl. His daughter, Cream. "Daddddd! Todd pushed me really hard and gave me a scrape! See?" She pointed at her bleeding elbow, "He won't even let me play with Delta! Mom said he had to share her with me, but he won't share!" The girl whined out, causing the man's ears to lower. Gods her whining was annoying. Leaning forward, he set down the bottle and remote and got up.

"Where is your brother then?" He asked, grumpy. The dream was fresh on his mind. Along with the dream was the emotions he felt. The raw anger and powerlessness he felt surged up from his chest to the outer parts of his body. He had control over a situation now. And he knew what he wanted to do to deal with it.

"He went to his room with Delta!" She whined more. The fox just nodded and walked away, before he turned back and told his daughter to go play outside. He'll deal with Todd in private. Like the naive, young child she was, she listened and hurried out of the home. As soon as she left, he walked down the hallway, past the children's bedroom, and entered his own room. He grabbed a bat that was hanging up on the wall. His older brother's bat, in fact, which was given to the fox after he won his first baseball game in middle school. It was the only possession the fox owned that wasn't ruined beyond belief from years and years of abuse. He twirled it in his hand for a moment, really debating on what he was about to do. Whatever sensible part of his mind that was left was being quickly silenced out by that rage he felt. The longer he stood in his room, the more the anger grew and grew, finally breaking down that wall of logic. 

He walked down the hallway, images of what he was going to do to his own son ran through his head. 

The boy that was helpless in his room, not knowing what was about to happen.

The same boy who looked like the man who abused the fox for all his life. The same fox who ended up being a loser in the face of every single monster he had ever wanted to impress. 

Opening the door, the fox walked in. More images came to his head as he stared down at the child. The boy was just playing with his grandmother's gift to him. Delta. He looked up at his father, the classic Scott look in his eyes. That 'I dare you to hurt me' look. That look mixing into his multicolored eyes, reminding the fox of his younger years. And that rage he had to hold inside for all that time. It came out in an explosion. He raise that bat up into the air and smashed it down onto the child's leg, causing a sudden yelp and confused cry to exit the boy. It was far too late for him. His father entered down a new dark, dangerous path. Just like the fox' father did ages ago. And his father's father did. The cycle was just going to continue. Each swing of his bat, each word of anger, each slap, was just bringing more and more pain into the family. It was endless torment, from father to boy.

Stanley became the monster his father once was.

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Yo, I finally finished this monster after like- months of working on it! I'm actually pretty pleased with how it came out! I'm sorry that it's a bit rushed, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! 

Also, this is partially cannon guys.

Word Count: 2690

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