Quietly, Sam opened the door, hoping that his father had fallen asleep before he realized that Sam was out past midnight. The door clicked shut, and he quietly locked the door. He continued to his room, but his dad stepped into the hallway, blocking his path. Sam braced for the blow as his father lifted his fist and struck him harder than usual across the left eye. He fell to the floor as blood trickled from the gash left by the class ring his dad wore.
Without a word, his father walked away and slammed the front door, most likely hitting up one of the bars on the other side of town. Sam pulled himself off the floor and went to examine his eye. The blood had stopped, but the bruise was forming over his eye rapidly. Wincing, he gently cleaned the wound and walked to his bedroom.
His father was a handsome man, tall and muscular with a kind face that twisted with anger and disgust at the sight of his son. Sam was an exact copy of his father, lean, muscular build, black hair, piercing blue eyes. He wore his hair longer, though, and he preferred it covering his eye, but they could've passed for brothers.
Sam had been abused since he turned 13, and he was 17 now. He began cutting at 14 and thinking suicide for longer. He glanced at his scarred wrists, his carved chest, host to pictures drawn with his best friend, the knife. He felt the blade was all he had to hold on to, as he pulled the knife from his bed, he placed it at his throat. Not today, but soon.
Sam awoke to the thudding on his bedroom door, and then his boyfriend came rushing in, clearly worried.
"Sam! I haven't heard from you since-what the hell happened to your eye!?" He rose out of his bed and went to the bathroom. The gash was 2 inches long and the bruise around his eye was puffy and purple. He turned to Forrest, the one person he could love and trust, and fell into his arms, quietly weeping and Forrest stroked his hair, whispering quietly and holding him tightly, waiting for this all to be ok, and soon tears slipped down his cheeks as well as he traced the scars on Sam's wrists and chest, knowing that the person whom he loved most, like him, was contemplating suicide.
