Destined To Meet

8

TW's:
-Homophobia

Clay's POV

I was on the plane for ten minutes and looked to my side to see two boys sitting next to me. One of them was wearing a black with red hoodie and the other had a blue hoodie. It was quite hot outside so I wondered why they were wearing that. They were laughing at a video and I sighed a bit, not understanding how people could even laugh at this point.

One of the boys looked up at me with a worried look. I saw him frown and smile after that. 'Are you alright?'

I shrugged and stared outside of my window. 'I've known better times.'

'What's up, dude?' the boy with the black with red hoodie asked with a smile. 'You can talk to us, we might be strangers, but it might be nice to talk to a stranger.'

I shrugged. 'My parents sent me away.'

'I'm so sorry to hear that, do you want to talk about it? What's your name?'

'My name's Clay,' I muttered.

'I'm Skeppy and this is my boyfriend, Bad.'

I nodded slowly and smiled. 'I like boys as well,' I smiled.

'Oh really? I'm bisexual,' Skeppy said.

'And I'm pansexual,' Bad said after that.

I smiled and sighed relievedly. 'I'm gay. Wait, can I tell you about what happened?'

'Of course.'

'So uh- I'm gay and my parents think I'm sick so they sent me away to go to another country to get therapy. I've thought about running away, but they also got someone to pick me up when I leave the plane.'

'I'm so sorry to hear that. Being gay is absolutely not a disease, they are horrible for thinking that.'

I shrugged. 'I tried to tell that to them too, but they didn't care. They say that they care about me and that they just want me to not be sick anymore. I just hate them.'

Bad grabbed a paper out of his bag, grabbing a pen after that. He started writing two things down and handed me a paper. 'Our numbers,' he smiled. 'You might not be able to text in there, but I still want you to have it.'

'Thank you,' I smiled.

We talked a lot for the rest of the flight and before I knew it was over. Skeppy and Bad had to leave unfortunately and I got picked up by some random man I had never seen before. He told me to come with him the second I was out of the plane and made me sit down in the back of his car as he started driving down a small and uncrowned road.

We were driving for forty minutes when I saw a school coming closer. Well, a school- it was more likely to be a prison than a school. I didn't want to think about it any longer and closed my eyes for the rest of the car drive.

The driver stepped on the brakes, waited for me to step out and I immediately got "welcomed" by some sort of teacher from my new school. He smiled faintly and pointed at a door.

'Come in, you have a few hours to rest, but you have an intake after that. We need to see where we can help you the most.'

'Today?'

TW homophobia (the whole chapter has mentions of it or homophobic comments)

'Yeah, you need help as fast as possible. You will get a room, your phone will be taken. You have to ask me to go to the toilet. You will have to pass a teacher's room to go to the toilet at night, because you can't escape to any of the other boys.'

'Excuse me? I'm not a criminal.'

'No, but you're sick. We are trying to heal you as fast as possible.'

'I would be surprised if a boy has ever left this building while being straight.'

'You're going to your room to prepare for therapy.'

I got brought to my room and sat down on my bed as I felt jet lagged by the plane. I laid down and tried not to think about everything that was happening. I just stared at my ceiling as I realised the man had just taken my phone as well.

Instead of preparing for my therapy, I closed my eyes because I was very tired. I ended up falling asleep until someone walked into my room to bring me to the therapy's intake.

I just listened to them and sat down on a chair as I stared at the therapist in front of me.

'Hi, Clay. I want to ask you a few questions before we start the actual therapy.'

I didn't answer him and waited for him to start talking again.

'First of all, how does your illness show?'

'I don't know what that means.'

'What type are you? Gay, bisexual or something else?'

'Gay,' I mumbled as I stared down at my hands, feeling really uncomfortable.

'Okay, can you tell me when you last sexually fantasised about boys?'

My face heated up and I rolled my eyes. 'I don't know.'

'Can you take a guess?'

'Today,' I mumbled.

'How often do you sexually fantasise about boys?'

'Every day.'

'What do you fantasise about?'

'Boys,' I said with a loud and dramatic sigh.

'What do you want to do with a boy?'

'Why do you want to know this?'

'Because I'm trying to heal you again, Clay. It's hard in the beginning, but it will get better and easier once you realise you are sick. Can you answer my question?'

'I'm not answering that. Even if I would be sick, I still have a private life. You don't have to know what I think about boys.'

'Do you think about sexually touching them or do you just think about their looks?'

'Stop.'

'Answer me, please.'

'I'm not answering that either.'

'You're going to be here just as long as you need to answer me.'

'BOTH,' I screamed as I jumped up to run away. 'I'm sick of this, leave me alone.'

'We see this behaviour really often. It's normal to be in denial, luckily we are here to help you.'

'Just shut up, I hate you already.'

I opened the door and ran away, running into the arms of a boy around my age.

1043 words

Summary:
Clay gets therapy from bitches