Luke (sequel to 'Say You'll Remember Me')

Chapter 2 Abuse

He wasn't very old when it happened, two weeks before he turned ten. Following a child abuse report accusation filed by one of the neighbors who had finally decided to speak up, May Castellan had been forced to clean up her act. She had been off the drink for over a year now, and was doing more for Luke than she ever had. She cleaned, cooked dinner for him, and even picked him up from school. The rift that she had torn between the two of them had almost been mended, Luke almost loved her again, until that fateful day.

Not being one for gift shopping, she had decided that she would pick Luke up from school a little early and take him to the mall to pick out his birthday gifts. It's safe to say that they never made it to the mall.

~

"Luke Castellan, your mother is here to pick you up," The principal's assistant's voice cackled over the intercom.

Luke looked up to his teacher, asking permission. She nodded, and the boy collected his things, practically sprinting out the door and away from his math lesson.

He met his mother in the office and the two of them walked out to the car.

"So Luke, did you do anything fun today?" May asked once they got in the car.

"Yeah mom, we had pizza for lunch. Pizza!"

The boy's enthusiasm caused his mother to laugh. "Well, I can't think of anything cooler than pizza... except maybe letting you go pick out your birthday present."

"Really, mom!?"

"Really."

"Yay!" The boy cheered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

May just smiled and started the car. After a few minutes she spoke again, "so honey, besides pizza, did you do anything else?"

"Well, in p.e. we played dodgeball, and I was the only one who didn't get hit all hour," the boy said with excitement. "Oh, and at recess, we all played family, and I held hands with my friend Dennis."

The woman slowly pulled the car over to the curb and parked it before turning to look at her son. "Now why would you do that, Luke?"

The boy gave her an exasperated look for asking such an obvious question, "because, we were the dad's, why else would we hold hands?"

"But you can't have two dads, Luke. A boy can't have a husband," she said, her tone turning grave, all the joy from earlier now gone.

"Yes they can," Luke retorts matter-of-factly, "our teacher said so. Besides, mom, I like Dennis, I want him to be my husb-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence; his mother slapped him. May put the car in drive and sped all the way home, occasionally reaching out and hitting Luke.

When they pulled into their driveway, Luke looked up with disappointment. "Mom, why are we here, I thought we were going to the mall. What about my birthday present?"

"Faggots don't get birthday presents." She said sternly before getting out and slamming her door. Luke didn't have time to get out before his door was flung open and he was drug out into the yard.

"Mom," he screams, now crying, "what's a faggot? Why are you doing this?" She grabs him by his hair and drags him into the house. "Mom, please stop. Let go! Mom, please!"

His screams went well on into the night, but this time, none of the neighbors called the police. None cared enough to save the boy on the night his mother broke her sobriety. No one cared enough to say anything when he missed a whole week of school, or when he finally showed up, but with cuts and bruises. No one cared about the silent tears he shed at the back of the classroom on his birthday, nor did they care enough to wish him happy birthday. Maybe, if just one person had payed any attention, the boy could have been spared so much pain, but no one cared.