Crash and Burn

Crash fights the blackness creeping in on the edges of his world. His father slowly descends. He is picked up by the collar and wrenched from the floor. Blows rain down like sledgehammers. He hears the splinter of bone in an arm, but doesn't cry out. Blood falls from his nose and mouth, skin splits with sheer force of contact. Ribs snap like icicles on the warm day after a snow fall. One eye is swelling. Not a sound has passed his lips. Scarlet blood trickes down his chin and bubbles with every breath. Fire fills his body and lungs. When at last it is over, he staggers to the kitchen to look at the clock. Almost midnight. He can't let you down again. Hugging his injured body, he stumbles down the street, spitting blood onto the pavement.
***
You sit inside your room, curtains open. Every few moments you glance furtively at your blinking bedside analog. It's midnight. Where was Crash?! You would understand if he couldn't get to you tonight, but he would never forgive himself for breaking a promise.

A boy shuffles down the street, awkward and stiff, as though it hurt to move. Of course, it's Crash. He falters in your front yard, sits under the tree you planted when you were six. Something is wrong. Worried and terrified, you bolt out your front door, not caring if you're caught. As you reach him, you see his horrifying state.

Blood streams from his nose and mouth, dripping off his chin and staining his shirt. One eye is swollen shut. His left arm hangs at a strange angle and blood from cutting trickles into the grass. His breathing is labored.

"Oh my God, Crash... What happened to you?" you ask, sobbing.

Unable to answer, he can only lean his head against the trunk of the tree and close his eyes.

"You have to go to the hospital." Startled, he looks up at you through one good eye. He opens his crimson mouth to argue, but you have the phone in your hand and you're dialing already.

Agonizingly slowly, he stands up. You clutch his hand until the ambulance arrives, swarming with newscameras intent on learning the details of the smalltown brutalization.