Bashed and Torn- The Life of Oliva McGuire

***********

Introduction

"Hey problem," is what Oliva McGuire expects, if his parents summon him. Oliva attends the school of magic Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was bought up in a little town not to far from Kings Cross Station in England. He hates going home. He is always treated like trash, having to face abuse and neglect in all of his child hood and being bought up with the realism that most children are like this. Well a lot has changed over the past six years when he was accepted into Hogwarts. His biggest fear changed from loosing his best mate Jaskye to going home over the Christmas and visiting his biological family. Oliva is an out-going man who loves his magical life. He does well at school and is a respected member of the community. No matter what he believes to be a mistake and a disadvantage to his parents. Luckily he has created a bond with a younger kid Jaskye that helps him get through the beating and abuse that he has suffered as well.

(CHAPTER 1)

"I won't be like them," the thought that runs continuously through his head. Running down a dimly lit street, which was lit by the occasional working streetlight, the thoughts in his head were overriding his body. Ignoring the large amounts of pain created from the grotesque concrete, slowly burning and removing skin from his feet. No matter how much the pain increased, he pushed on moving one foot in front of the other at a rapid pace. His muscles were ceasing, the pain was starting to overrun his thoughts, but he had a goal. A goal, which for now he believes, was reaching the opening at the end of the street. The opening of his new life.

Sweat runs through his blonde hair, which eventually reaches his collar. There is a long rip in his jet-black shirt near his right collar. Pain is coming from everywhere, his arms, legs, feet and mainly his mind. The thoughts he thinks relate back to his childhood. The anguish makes him break down and rest. Seeing a small green electrical box, he uses all his remaining energy to lift himself onto it. His face and arms are bleeding but he ignores them and doesn't feel the pain. Hate is controlling him. The hate of his life makes him move on.

"Why me? What did I do? Jaskye I will find you," he mumbles to himself as he sits on the small box and places a small green bag next to him. A single tear emerges from his right eye and trickles down his cheek. He reaches into his pocket but a sharp pain protrudes from his right shoulder and slowly moves down to his wrist.

"Ahh, fucken hell," he screams in anguish, as he realises that he must have been hurt in his previous incident. He tries to ignore the pain and runs on down the street with the thought of freedom set into his mind. His heart begins to race. His life passes through his eyes. He feels that he is running blind, but doesn't stop moving, one foot after the other. As his life passes through his eyes he only feels hate, anguish and betrayal. He feels lonely, as if he is the only one in the world. He feels like he will never fit into this world. He misses his other life. He knows it won't be far.

He cannot ignore the gash in his arm, a large amount of blood has already been lost. He rips his shirt and uses the material as a bandage and tightens it around the wound on his arm. The blood stops protruding as fast and eventually stops. He has a small bag, which contains all the gear he could get from his room in the short amount of time he had. He had managed to grab a shirt, a pair of pants, some money, a picture of his mother and his school equipment, which he charmed to be light and fit in the tiny green bag.

He reached into his bag and removed his wand. He knows he will get in trouble for using magic but he doesn't care. He wants to be with his friends. He wants to be with his real family, his real home, Hogwarts the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The pain begins to overtake his emotions. He feels as if a thousand knives are stabbing him. He starts to feel queasy. It all goes black.

***

"You little shit learn to clean the dinner dishes properly," yelled a middle aged man as he grabbed a young child by his brown hair.

"Please Dad don't!" whimpered the child but it had no-effect as he was soon lying face down on the floor with a extravagant amount of pain in the back of his neck. He soon realised that he had been hit but he kept his pride. The child stood straight up but he cannot hide the pain and tears that start to emerge from his eyes.

"You will learn to do it right now won't you, Jay!" he yelled as he grabbed him by his collar and threw him face first into the kitchen cupboard.

Jay again kept his pride and starts to wash the dishes. He doesn't want to let him know he has won. Blood is coming out of his mouth; tears are now running in a stream down his face. The pain is so strong he collapses on the ground in anguish.

"Do you want another one? Get up and do it now," yelled his father as he slowly walked in closer to him. But Jay couldn't move. He was still. He felt like he was going to die. He thought it would be the best way out of his life. He hated it.

Within a second he was picked up by his collar. He knew this would be a nastier beating then the ones that he has ever taken. He knew that he had to keep his pride, as it was all he had left. He hoped that Oliva would be here soon to save. Oliva was like a brother to him as they had a special bond. A bond beyond brotherly love, a bond that had been created through those beatings and Oliva sticking up for him. No matter how much they knew they would get beaten, they always were there for each other. He was now dangling by his collar in the air. Suddenly a large bang comes through the front door.

"Don't fucking touch him!" yells the older boy as he burst through the doors into the living area. His face was red in anger he was enraged. The veins in his neck were about to protrude through the skin. He was as tall as the father but wasn't as built as him. His blonde fringe covered the left side of his face. He isn't wearing a shirt and had scars all over him. His chest was covered in sweat. He stares into the fathers' eyes knowing that something bad was going to happen. All he could feel was hate. He couldn't care if he had to kill him. He wanted out. He wanted for Jaskye to be free from these beatings. He walked closer to the father.

"If you ever touch him again I swear....I swear," he stutters as he feels the rage growing within him. "I will kill you!" he screams.

The bald man suddenly turns around with a grim smile on his face. "So you come to get another beating have you Oliva? Trying to be the older brother, sticking up for your mate. I thought you would have had enough experience that you would have learnt to mind your own fucking business" he replies as he drops Jaskye the younger child on the kitchen floor.

Oliva reaches for something to defend himself with, but before he knew it, the older man kicked him so hard he was launched into the kitchen table. Oliva hears a crack and a large pain came from his shoulder. Jaskye's father beats him. Oliva feels no pain. He takes everything that is thrown at him. He also keeps his pride. He prepares as his father again comes over to hit him. On his way he sees Jaskye slowly creeping towards his father. His father turns and hits Jay, which throws him into the brick wall on the other side of the room.

Enraged Oliva gets up and yells, "He is only fourteen for god's sake. Leave him alone, you selfish bastard." With this he leaps at his father and knocks him into a cabinet. Jaskye stands up. His eyes filled with blood. Oliva stands back as he has never seen Jaskye like this. He is enthralled in hate. Blood slowly drips from his face. Oliva turns to walk away then hears a loud bang. He turns to find that Jay has hit his father with a large black saucepan. Tears fall down Jaskye's face.

Oliva walked over to Jaskye, grabbed him and embraced him close to his heart. "I'm sorry I couldn't have gotten here earlier" he whimpers as he starts crying. "Grab your stuff we are leaving".

With this Jaskye separates from Oliva and walks off to his bedroom to collect some supplies.

"Where are we going Oliva?" he yells from the distant room.

"We are running away. I am going to drop you off at the Friendly Arm-Inn. Then I am off to Diagon Alley to get your school gear for you," he replies as he walks and grabs his school equipment and some clothes from a already packed bag which was dropped on the way inside the front lawn.

"We have to go before he wakes up!" Jayskye yells back as he walks back out into the living area and waits at the front door.

Oliva scrummages through all of his belongings to make sure he has his picture of is mother, as well as his gear.

"Jay you ready? We have to leave now," Oliva yells but there is no reply. He quickly turns around in the belief that Jaskye's father has awoken already to see Jayskye unconscious at the front door. The father starts to awaken and with this he picks Jaskye up and runs out the front door, down the street about 500 metres to a bus stop where a black bus is arriving.

When Oliver finally arrives he notices that the driver is a plump old man with a little black buss driver hat.

"Sir. please take him straight to the hospital then send him here," Oliver asks the bus driver and passes him a piece of paper with an address on it as well as a twenty-dollar note. He carries Jaskye onto the bus and places him on the front seat. Oliva quickly jumps off the bus. "Quick go now!" he yells as he sees Jaskye's father running quickly down the pathway at them through the back window. The bus driver shuts the doors and drives off.

"You little bastards are going to pay!" yells Jaskye's father as he runs after Oliva down the street. Oliva being a fit athletic student starts to run away and creates a larger gap between him and his father. He tries to keep up with the black bus but he can't. Slowly the bus gets away from him. All he can think about was a continuous thought.

***

A bright light shown down into his eyes. Even though his eyelids are closed, the redness of the sun penetrates the skin and awakens him. Oliva being battered and bruised awakes from a deep sleep. He suddenly realizes that he must have passed out from exhaustion and shock while on the run.

He slowly opens his eyes, which need to adjust to the light of day. He sits up with a moan and stares at his paining right side. The cut on his arm had dried up over night but his favourite shirt was covered in dry blood. Slowly he sits on a grassy field removing the blood from his shirt and arm.

His muscles have ceased from last night's events, but he fights the pain and stands up. He believes his shoulder is broken. It is numb but emits pain whenever he moves it. Within a second his thoughts go from himself to Jay. "Is he alright? I wonder what happened to him?" runs on a continuous loop through his thoughts.

Oliva and Jay have been friends for a long time. They met at summer camp where they both used it as away to get away from their families. Oliva's family being a bunch of selfish alcoholics and Jay's being abusive. They slowly grew together and created an unbreakable bond. When together these two could do anything together. Fight any demons and most of all live through the torment while not at school.

Oliva reached into is bag and removes a small bottle of liquor, which he learnt can be used to kill bacteria when he and Jay were at summer camp. Pouring a small amount of golden liquor into the wound and tightening the material around it, a burning sensation arises from the wound. It is only minor compared to the mental anguish he makes himself face. The thoughts that he let Jay down by not getting there on time. The thoughts that he may have done the wrong thing.

He collapses in pain on the ground. His head hurts, his whole body aches. But his love for his mate makes him stand up and start to stumble dragging his body onwards. His thoughts are strong, his needs are strong. His need for Jay to be fine makes him walk. His need to be with him again, being with his friends again, keeps him going.

He walks towards a blue building and eventually reaches the steps. He stands there, staring at the building peeling blue paint. How it is slowly peeling off the walls. He looks at the windows, they have been replaced with palings of wood in all directions. He realises he has never seen this place before. He doesn't know where he is. As he moves one foot after the other onto the smooth polished grain stairs he starts to weaken. No matter how much he walks he seems to not be gaining any distance to the large white door at the end. He collapses. He doesn't know why he can't get there.

Eventually his mind click's. "This is a magical place. They must be able to help me." He keeps on walking step after step but doesn't gain any ground on the door. His heart starts to beat faster and he gets frustrated. "Dammit!, let me in," he cries in anguish. He drops to his knees and screams "Help me." His face hits the step. Blood slowly dribbles from his nose onto the stairs. He tries to remove his wand but doesn't have the strength. He lies there is a motionless state. He can't feel anything. It's as if he only has control over his mind.

***

"Ohh my," murmurs a voice in a distant echo from the top of the stairs. The voice moves closer. All Oliva can here is the occasion word. More voices come from the top and move closer. The voices become clearer, but he still can't understand them. He knows that there is something there but he is too weak to move. He can feel small coarse, rigid hands all over him.

He hears the first voice, It says, "You will be alright there child, just rest." As this is happening another set of hands opens his mouth and pours some fluid into it. It is no ordinary liquid. The pain disappears. He falls into a deep sleep.