Punishment
TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, selfhate
No. No. He could not stop it, was only able to watch… No, nononono. His breath hitched when the shattering noise finally reached his ear. It sounded like bombs dropping down next to him and destroying his life while leaving him alive…
That had not been his fault. He was not even near the vase when it fell down from the crooked shelf… It had been a wonder in itself that it survived this long anyway. But that did not matter anyway… he did not have to turn around to know everybody was looking at him. He swallowed. Hard. The soft and comforting hand of his sister slipped out of his and left him defenseless against the cold and fear that quickly began to spread through his body.
What was he supposed to do now? Wait for his punishment that was imminent? He did not notice how much his body began to tremble..behind him the wooden door creaked and opened, but even that he did not notice.
His fingers were numb as he began to undo his belt, which made it harder. “Faster, dear.”, the sickening sweet voice of his so called ‘mother’ made him close his eyes for a moment. With shivering hands he then reached the belt to her, and they left the main hall to vanish into his room.
“Credence?”, the boy stiffened when he heard Newts soft voice calling out for him. He turned around. It was over. Of course it had been just an illusion. His still trembling hands pulled the belt out of his pants, and he rolled it up carefully so Newt could grab it easily. The silver metal part dangled in the air, ready to hit the soft, but scarred, skin of his. Just like his dead foster-mother liked. Wordless he held the instrument for his punishment up.
Newt could not believe what he saw when he came back down. It was not so much the shattered flasks and freed liquids on the ground than Credence heavily shivering form. He looked like he was going to cry any minute now, no… Not cry. He looked like he wanted to die. Carefully the wizard stepped to the boy who turned to him. Oh Credence…
“Here.”, as the darkhaired boy reached him his belt he was too stunned to react at first. But then he took it, looking serious at Credence whose head tilted down. “Credence… Look at me.”
He broke down as soon as the door closed and he was alone again. His chest rested on what he called his bed, the rest of his body spread out on the floor as he sobbed and whimpered as quietly as possibly. The scars and fresh wounds on his back burned and he could feel the blood running down to his pants.
When Newt took the belt Credence lowered his head and accepted his fate. Maybe it could not be any other way. Maybe he had to be punished, always punished. Maybe he did not deserve different. But making him look up in the face of the one person he thought that would never hurt him, of the one person that saved him… that was cruel. Not better than his foster-mother.
Warily he watched Newt pull his wand and aiming at the belt. Wizards could be so much more creative in their punishments… so much more violent, horrible… He swallowed.
The belt began to fly up, into the artificial sky above them. His eyes automatically followed it, even when it began to toss around and form into a leathery ball. That ball kept floating high above them, its surface slightly pulsating and then it burst into millions of colorful sparks. And… It was beautiful. So unbelievably beautiful. Tears began to run down Credence face. “N-Newt…”
“Sssh… just look at it.”, the taller man stepped to him now and watched the stunned boy. “It is alright. I told you, didn’t I?”
A warm hand grabbed his and held it tightly. “Nothing will happen to you here. You are save here.”
And Credence couldn’t help but smile relieved, and happy, even if he still cried and trembled, but suddenly he felt free and… Yes, and accepted, truly accepted.