Negativity Culmination

Grountin was a teenage boy who preferred to mind his own business, but that never prevented him from being targeted. He was often told that he needed discipline; to mature; to act right. Often, said discipline came with punishments like the restriction of privileges.

His parents loved saying, "You're Grounded! Dead to us for the night! Hehehe!"

"If only I were really dead," Grountin would typically mutter to himself in response.

The groundings were all if Grountin was lucky. A more likely end result of alleged discipline was a whipping. The family whip was not long or sharp, but only to reduce bleeding. After all, if a child were to bleed to death, one would not have a child to whip. Although Grountin had an older sister, she was adored by their parents; so much so, that she was allowed to implement her own punishments upon him.

"That is for taking so long in the bathroom!" Grountin's sister hollered while whipping him for taking too long cleaning his wounds from the whipping he received just four minutes ago.

Occasionally, when Grountin was whipped, a blue spark would surface right after impact. His family had a goal to make it appear each time they whipped him.

There were multiple times from which Grountin could recall his dad saying, "Wait. I'll get it this time. I'm pretty sure I'm close. Hhhnnnn-yaaaahh! Shoot! Let me try again." Upon success, amongst cheers and smiles from the rest of his family, was proudly stated, "There we go."

There were sporadic competitions to see who within the group could get the blue spark to activate the most instances in succession. Usually, Grountin's father would win, but his mother could achieve a rare victory. Grountin's sibling only ever had one upset, but her parents were so proud of her, they united for a group hug once it was certain she had done it.

"That's my girl!" her dad celebrated.

"Congratulations, honey!" her mother embraced her.

As much as each individual whipping session was painful in its own right, the blue spark occurrences caused Grountin to sink into a deeper sadness than before. There was a time when he used to look forward to seeing what the day had in store; now, he merely tries to guess his end. Sometimes, he wished they would sharpen the family whip; even considered perhaps doing so himself.

The reasons for discipline were a plethora: not saying "thanks", being a couple minutes late, not having brushed his teeth in the last six hours, tip-toeing on the stairs too forcefully, knocking on the door too loudly, and many more.

"I know you were thinking bad thoughts about me," Grountin's mother spoke matter-of-factly, contrary to his claims. "How does your father do it so consistently? Hhhhi-unnnhh! There it is! I got the blue spark, everybody!"

The majority of Grountin's home life was spent in his room, hoping everyone else in the house momentarily forgot his existence as their literal whipping boy. His room did not have much, as confiscation was normally used whenever anybody's arm became too exhausted to attempt to continue forcing a blue spark to flash upon his back. Somehow, someway, whether raw sadistic glee; a sincere fascination due to a lack of comprehension; or even the pride of accomplishment in regards to possessing the ability to activate it; the blue spark always made his family more joyful. It would make a bad day as though it never happened; replace intense anger with remarkable peace; create bonds where there would be disruption instead; for everybody but Grountin.

"Grountin, I'm not feeling well, so a grounding isn't good right now. Hhhnnnnn-yaaaaahhh! Ah, a little better now. Maybe five more ought to do it. Hhhnnnn-yaaaahh! Make that six. Six more now," his father explained in defense of his punishment choice for the misdeed of opening the refrigerator for more than ten seconds.

Sometimes, to Grountin, it seemed like his pain was their pleasure. At the very least, he was certain that they had no qualms with him being harmed. One of the few devices Grountin was allowed to have was his old, damaged game console. It had online connectivity, but limited RAM, so lagging was inevitable. For some reason, the controller ports had some kind of electrical discharge active that would tend to result in a blue spark to his hand whenever he was losing, weirdly enough. His family, aware of this, laughed at such circumstances.

"The game is punishing you for being stupid! Hehehe!" Grountin's sister chuckled, slapping her knee after having watched lag force Grountin's character to be offed by an opponent, accompanied with a blue spark. "Get good, noob! Ehhehehe!"

Grountin pointed to this device's flaw to his parents, thinking that they may desire a refund. Upon learning of his son's concern, his dad accused him of being a "lying little baby" and tried the console for himself. "I told you. No blue spark for me!" his dad announced. "You must be doing something wrong. Hand me the whip. Whatever it is, you're going to learn not to do it."

Grountin never did learn why his in-game failures consequently led to a blue spark attack. A victorious scenario, as rare as they were, never came with a jolt. The depressive state always increased in power; his opponents always felt relieved; and the plasma always possessed an azure tint: these are the only consistancies of which he was aware. Feeling blue was not a joke, a metaphor, nor an over-exaggeration for Grountin; it was reality. There used to be an "ouch" said each time, but eventually, that response became insanely meaningless due to how nobody was bothered by his pain; thus, no longer were there utterances indicative of any emotion besides boredom.

"Are you done yet?" Grountin would ask, never completely expressing himself. A sigh, groan, or eye roll could result in more discipline, after all.

"This is for your own good. Hhhhi-unnnnhh! Mmmm, that's good, alright," his mother might reply.

His only break from his home life was school, but even that came with its own difficulties; not to mention that the two were not always exclusive from one another.