Play the game | INCOMPLETE (might rewrite)

Prologue

TW: use of a homophobic slur

Ryder was young. His whole life ahead of him. Nothing to make him afraid. Until it did.

His friend Sam was over, they were playing with his trains and Lego's in Ryder's room. When his moms shrill, annoyingly loud voice pierced through the floor. "Ryder Hunter Smith!"

He turned to look at Sam, dropping his train as he got up. Sam looked at him also quite frightened, they both silently agreed to walk downstairs together, and so they did.

The two boys descended the big staircase from the upper floor, walked through the kitchen, and stopped in the Living room when they saw Ryder's dad and mom chatting animatedly in the center of the room, clearly in some form of distress.

His mom looked over her husbands shoulder at the two boys, eyes red and hot as they pierced through Ryder's head.

"Sam, honey." His mom suddenly spoke to his friend, with her overly fake cheery voice, and that annoyingly perfect show smile. What happened?

"Can you go home?" She asked him, voice filled with fake kindness, arms folded over her chest. Ryder looked at his dad and his hands were on his hips, glaring at Sam. "But, mom. Sammy was supposed to stay for a sleepover!" Ryder protested, raising his voice slightly.

"You are too old to be having a sleepover." His dad fired suddenly, his face contorted in annoyance and his face scrunched in anger. Ryder was clearly confused what the problem was, Sam has been his best friend since he was 2.

"What?" Ryder asked, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. Looking between his mom and dad, trying to take note of their face's. He was only 9, plenty of people still slept over. Right?

"You heard me. Sam, I'm sorry. But can you call your mom, and let her know you are going home?" His dad said firmly, more demanding then asking. Ryder heard Sam whimper from the force of it, and retreated back into the kitchen.

After Sam left - he lived right across the street, so it wasn't a far walk - His mom told him to sit down, which he did, he took a seat on the couch, facing his parents.

"I'm asking this once, and one time only," Ryder's dad growled, his voice almost sounding desperate. Weird.

"Is Sam a fag?" His mom fell back a few steps, but didn't stop her husband from getting close. "Answer me, boy!"

"No?!" He lied. Sam told him he likes boys already, he knew what it meant. Some people don't like those "kind" and some people don't mind it, and Ryder was old enough for him to know that it was a secret, and that he shouldn't tell anyone. So, he is lying to his dad. Which, to be Frank, is scarier then he thought.

"DON'T LIE!"

"Tom, be quiet!" His mom shrieked, but still didn't do anything to stop him from shaking Ryder slightly by the shoulders. He grabbed hard, his firm grip digging into Ryder's biceps as he sat there, helpless.

Ryder was near tears, but he couldn't cry. He couldn't. His dad and mom always told him it was a form of weakness, so, Ryder refused to cry in front of others.

"Ow!" Was all he said, before his dad let him go, pushing him away with such force it would've knocked him to the floor if he wasn't already sitting down. "I'm not lying," he said "Sam, he..."

Shit. He couldn't think of anything. Not one single thing, and the window was closing, the window of silence was expanding. He missed it. His dad gave him an angry smirk, his not nice one.

"You aren't to be seen with him!" His dad told him, pointing a finger at Ryder's chest. "You can't hang out with Samuel anymore," Ryder flinched at Sam's government name. His dad's never called him Samuel. It was always "Sammy boy!" "Samsam," "Sam."

So what changed suddenly? Why is he suddenly not aloud to be Sam's friend? Why is he suddenly not aloud to be seen with him?

"He can't come here." His dad finished, then left the living room. Ryder just sat there, angry, upset, nauseous. He looked at his mom and she looked between, scared, and upset.

"Sweetie," she spoke, walking over to sit next to her son on their couch, she put her arm around him and pulled him closer to her. He can't cry. He can't cry. He can't cry.

"You do realize that he is wrong, don't you?" She asked, he nodded. He was hoping that she met her husband. That he didn't just agree with her about her saying Sam was wrong for being gay.

"Being gay is a sin, and it goes against gods envision. You understand?" His mouth went dry instantly, he can't talk. His mouth isn't able to move some how, he's suddenly numb.

He's not sure why it has such a deep impact on him. Her words. The way they bleed through his mind, puncture every thought, every feeling, anything they could reach. The way the words cling onto his brain like they can't leave, now that they are there. They multiply through the years, the pain he feels. The coldness.

He will think of those words forever. Playing them again and again in his mind. Reminding himself that he isn't meant to be like that. That he can't be gay. Being gay is a sin, and it goes against gods envision.

A/n: HI! So, I originally had another idea for this book, but I didn't like it, I rewrote it, and I am publishing this rn! Hopefully you enjoy!