Trust me and everything will be fine.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Beyblade or any related personage of it (If I would, it would be Kai here, Kai there and Kai everywhere)

WARNING: m/m rape, incest and abuse will be in this fic, slash. Read at own risk

A/N: Voltaird Tad Tala will be good, so don’t like them don’t read this fic. Tala will be Kai’s older cosine.

A/N2: This story will be an alternate universe, so beyblades do not exist, but the characters will be used in this story.


SUMMARY: Kai has been abused by his parents for years, one day they go too far and Kai ends up in the hospital. Will he learn to trust his nephew and grandfather when they help him to the road of recovery, or not.



DEFAULT CHAPTER

Kai’s P.O.V

The secrets I’ve locked away, the secrets no one can ever see, it seems that this won’t stay for long anymore.

I wish that I could keep them for myself, but I won’t succeed in that. If I keep holding this secrets it will tear me up inside.

Tala is wondering why I act this way even if IT was 4 years in the past. He doesn’t understand, and I hope he never does.

I could never wish this pain on somebody else, let alone my own nephew. He helped me so good when I was broken and I never, never can repay him.

I wish I could ban my history, bury it so deep that I would never have to confront it. I wish my heart would stop remembering these acts of betrayal that my parents did to me.

I wish I would never move forwards so there never be a past. But sometimes the things we desire most are the things we can’t have.

You’re probably are wondering what the hell I’m talking about. Well I’m talking about my past, even if I wished I had never had one, but if I didn’t had this past, I wouldn’t have what I’ve go now.

if you’re wondering who I a, my name is Kai Hiwatari, do you want to find out how my past was like, just sit down and listen.

I will not tell you everything, but I will tell you the basic lines. You’ll understand well enough. Even if I would tell my complete past, you wouldn’t understand fully, unless you have suffered the same pain as I have.

My name is Kai Hiwatari, 16 year, 17 on the 28th of December. But enough about my present, let’s start the story of my past.

I was born on a stormy night at the end of December; I was born 2 months to early and almost died. Sometimes I wish I did die.

The doctors just got to save me but I was weak, and would have a weak immune-system for the rest of my live. But strangely enough I never got really sick.

My mother was always complaining that I better had died that night, that I never took the first breath.

She told me the pain that I caused her when I was born, the blood she lost, and that the doctor’s didn’t had to bother saving me, that it was better that they just twisted my neck, and let me die, but then I wouldn’t have suffered enough.

My parents weren’t normal people, not even then. My mother was an orphan; she didn’t know any of her family and had cut down all the contact with her foster-family.

They had to be nice people, but my mother was an angry and frustrated woman because her parents left her to die when she was little.

My father was the son of the multimillionaire Voltaire Hiwatari, but because of my father he had lost Voltaire support and had to live on his own.

Voltaire didn’t know for 14 years that he had a grandson, so long that my father hadn’t talked to him. Too bad he didn’t know otherwise he could have got me out this hell-hole before it turned too bad.

My father and grandfather had a large fight about my mother, well at least that’s what I heard when they where shouting at each other again; he said that she was using him. You know, now I think about it, I know she did use my father.

My father was a rich man, heir to the Hiwatari business with only one younger sister.

Well if my dad had explained my grandfather that he got mum pregnant, even if I think he got her unwillingly pregnant (rape.) than everything still would be sunshine and roses.

But nooo, my dad just got angry he called gramps a son of a b#tch and things that were worse than that. My dad hasn’t seen grandpa for 14 years since then.

The first two years were ok, if you compare it to the next twelve.

My parents ignored me, well they gave me food and something to drink once in a while, so I wouldn’t die but they never really care, I just wanted them to care, but they just ignored me, plainly as that.

If I died then they would have to give an explanation why I died of starvation all the while my parents were rich, but they could buy there way out of it, like they always do.

It was later that it became bad. I was two almost three; both my parents were drinking more and more but on the 25 November it reached a new level.

They were so drunk and in such a bad mood that they started to beat me and they wouldn’t stop until I was bloody and bruised.

Sticks, whips, fists, they didn’t care, at one moment, mom had took a barbeque fork, and sticked it in my hip, I still got the scar from it.

In my two years of live I was slapped a few times more than other kids, but I was never beated so badly. I thought it would be better from , th, that it was just something that only happened once, boy was I wrong.

When I was four, it became even worse then the normal beatings, burns and cuts.

My parents wouldn’t let me go to kindergarten, and because we had a lot of money and my parents didn’t work everybody thought it was normal. I wish it was

My father worked, illegal. He was a drugs dealer: he bought drugs, and sold them for an high prise. And he kept always a little stash for himself and mother. Well not so little. He could afford it, one time, when some police came, just for a random check up, they had found the drugs, and my dad just paid them. You see everybody got’s his price.

One day, when my mother was drunk and high, my father went to her room and demanded attention, like he always does. He was incredible horny, and he saw my mother as a personal whore, having raped her brutally before my eyes a few times; not that she notices; she was high at the time, and she thought that nothing was happening then.

I may not like her, but after he was done with her, he left me with her in a locked room, I could see her lying, her legs open, bleed seeping on the floor, her eyes almost white, and a small smile on her face.

When my father came to her, whe told him that her head hurts; well that’s what she always says when she doesn’t feel like herself. But father was in a bad mood, he demanded attention, called her an ugly bitch, stuff like that.

And it was true, the last years she was starting to look worse for wear, her ribs where visible, she had big bruises every where, and wrinkles. She was a wreck.

“Well, if I’m that ugly, why don’t you go have sex with someone you think I pretty.” She sid.

“LIKE WHO?” he yelled clearly still in a bad mood/

“Your son, I have seen the way that you look at him, you have lust for him.” She said, she may be a druggie and a drunk, but she knew people, she wasn’t a fool.

Dad was thinking about it, and it seemed that it was a good idea. He left the room my mother was in

From there on, I still remember every little detail. Father went slowly to my room, I could hear is footsteps on the floor, before the door he hesitated, like he was having second thoughts, but then he came back to his senses, or actually then he didn’t came back to his senses since he was still high, he entered. He came to my bed were I was lying on, and said, in a silent husky whisper

“Do you want to make me happy Kai?”

I didn’t know what to do, I was afraid of what he would do if I said yes, but I was also afraid of what he would do if I said no. eventually the fear to say no outgrew the fear to say yes so I slowly shacked my head yes.

“Good” dad said “now, dress out”

And that’s what I did, I was terrified. His eyes roamed over my body as I slowly took of my clothes. He liked his lips. His eyes couldn’t stop looking at me, and my uneasiness grew tenfold. The way his eys lighted up when I lost a piece of clothing was just too creepy for me.

I was apparently going to slow for him because I remember how he pushed me on my bed; he kissed me, and forced my lips apart. I was disgusted when his tongue entered my mouth, I tried to push away but he wouldn’t let me.

Then he ripped of my pj bottoms, and he looked at me, his eyes clouded over with something I didn’t recognise at the time.

I was lying there naked; his eyes were roaming my body. I could feel something hard against my tights.

He pushed me unto my stomach and held my hands tightly with one of his big hands. Behind me I could hear the rustling of fabric.

He climbs unto me, he is rubbing my ass, and my thights, then he grabs my hips, and pulls me up, so I’m standfin on my hands and knees.

Then, he pulls my but a bit to the back, and without warning, his finger slids inside of me. I cry, as the big finger enters my small ring. He is going up and down, then suddenly, he takes it out of my but, and leaves, but not before saying.

“If you dare to move one inch, than I swear you are going to regret it.”

A minute later he comes back, and then I feel him rummaging with something behind e, than I feel something slick and cold pushed inside of me. It was his finger, but this time with lubricant.
Not soon after, a second finger enters me, and I start crying from the pain. He is siccorising me, and the pain, I can’t believe the pain.

Then he takes them out, and pulls my cheeks apart, and sets something large at the entrance, then he slides it up into my but, and I scream like I never screamed before.

He started to push inside of me, letting me scream, hitting my but with every trust, and then he cums. The sperm stings in the wounds that he created when he ripped me, and I start to cry.

After he finished he gave me a kiss on the mouth and left. I was lying there with blood running between my legs, crying. This pain was much worse than any I ever felt before, and sadly this wouldn’t be the only time he does it.

Years later he was still being abusive towards me. I was 6 year when I went to school for the first time.

It hurt because of what my dad always did to me. But on the bright sight, I was away from home for a long time and I got some friends.

I was the smallest of my class but I didn’t really mind that. The children were very nice; I still remember that the biggest kid shared his lunch with me when he saw I hadn’t brought any.

He asked me why and I answered that I forgot it at home.

When I came home I was beaten by my mother and my father raped me almost every night. Then they just left me home and I went to school again.

The only difference in the beatings is that it isn’t on the face and on the arms because than people would get suspicious.

Sometimes when my parents were really angry the beaten me on the face and arms. I had to wear long sleeves then.

Sometimes a teacher would ask me if my parents were beating me but I always said no.

This went on for years and years, only the beatings started to get worse and rapes took longer.

Sometimes my father takes, along with him, some clients, and then they go in my room and rape me one at a time.

I had to do blow jobs for them and once they tried to at the same time in my arse. It hurt I couldn’t sit for days. I didn’t went to school for two weeks after that, and my father at least had the decency to leave me a lone.

But all this is nothing compared to what happened round the time of my 14 birthday.

TBC

Well, hope you liked this chapter, please review, and tell me your opinion of it. Thank you.