| Don't Let Me Be Gone |- Joshler

T W E N T Y S E V E N

Three.

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My blood went cold at the sound of Josh's dad angry voice echoing through the silent and cold hospital.
I had to tell him everything. Everything about why Josh killed himself. Everything about our relationship.
"Who called me?" He roared and came into view.
I raised my hand shakily. "I d-did s-sir..."
He walked over to me swiftly, a look of horrible anger spread across his face. "What happened to my son?"
"H-he committed s-suicide." I said blankly.
"Why?" He hissed at me, his breath stinking of alcohol.
"U-uhm..." I stuttered, looking down quickly.
"Spit it out!" He yelled and I felt Ruby shift besides me.
"Mr. Dun?"
He turned around quickly and faced the tiny nurse that had called him. "What?"
"Joshua is ready for viewing." She said softly, with a sympathetic smile on her face.
He just nodded and followed the nurse but stopped. "Let him come with." He pointed at me.
"Is he blood family?" She asked.
"No but he was Josh's friend. I insist you let him come with." He said in a low growl.
"As you wish." She said with a soft smile.
I got quickly to my feet and followed Josh's dad, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
"What was Josh to you?" He asked, glancing over at me with a harsh stare.
"Friend." I said, suprised that my own voice hadn't wavered.
"Don't fucking lie." He whispered harshly as we walked into the cold room. "I know you're that faggot I caught in bed with him a while ago."
I gulped and looked down. "Wh-what do you want to know?"
"Who was Josh to you? What were you two?" He asked again, his voice even harsher somehow.
"H-he..." I shook my head out. "He was my boyfriend."
His expression hardened and he sat down in a chair besides Josh's still and cold body. "I knew it."
I stayed silent and he continued.
"I always knew my son was a worthless gay fag." He snarled and stood up quickly, hovering over Josh's body. "He fucking deserved to die. Gay fags don't deserve life."
Within the blink of an eye, I was pinned against a wall with the barrel of a gun pressed firmly to my head.
"You don't deserve to live." He snarled into my ear and heard a small click, signaling that he had loaded the gun. "I could end your life right here right now but I would get caught wouldn't I? I don't feel like getting caught for two counts of murder."
"T-two?" I stuttered.
A devilish smirk spread across his face. "Yes, two." He pulled the gun away from my head. "I killed Josh's mom, right in front of his ass. If I wouldn't get caught, you'd be dead where you stand."
I could feel my chest tighten. I stared him straight in the eyes and did the worst thing I could possibly do in that moment.
I spit in his face.
He seemed completely taken aback, stumbling backwards and wiping the spit off his face.
My stomach dropped. What the fuck have I done?
"You...you gay little fag!" He roared and grabbed me by my throat and tossed me across the room. I cryed out in agony and curled up into a tight ball but it didn't stop him from kicking me in the stomach until I was coughing up blood.
He laughed. "Weak fucking fag."
I cried and buried my head in my hands, pleading for death. I couldn't take it anymore. It was all my fucking fault.

(A/N Okay so starting after this point there is sexual abuse. If that makes you uncomfortable in any way, it's perfectly fine to skip over it. It is somewhat important to the storyline but it's okay, you won't be  completely in the dark if you skip.)

"Get up bitch." He snarled and picked me up and pinned me against a wall. "I've always been curious as to what you gay fucks do in your free time."
My breath hitched as I felt his hands clasp down sharply onto my hips. "Strip bitch."
My heart stopped and I started thrashing about. "No! No!"
He grabbed my throat and squeezed. "Strip or die. It's your fucking choice."
I wanted to scream and get away from him. I wanted to scream and hopefully get someone's attention. I couldn't. He'd kill me.
"L-l-let me go.." I choked out, placing my hands on his shoulders in an attempt to push him away from me.
He let me go and backed up a bit. "Be quick, yeah? Don't wanna get caught do we?" He snarled the last part.
I closed my eyes and pinned myself further against the wall and I started to pull off my clothes.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye, staring on with dark eyes. I knew what was coming. I knew what was going to happen to me. I knew what he was going to do.
He walked closer to me and snarled. "You dare tell anyone about this, you will die just like Laura did. Understand?"
I nodded weakly.
And with that he pressed himself against me and slipped his hands quickly inside my boxers.

(A/N Okay so this next part just talks about a bit of it, not too much just tread lightly frens)

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I cried as I was curled tightly into myself, still within the cold hospital room. Josh's dad sat in a chair next to Josh, pretending like nothing had just happened. I couldn't move from my position. I couldn't even think straight.
The bruises were all over me, from my thighs, from my stomach all the way up to my neck. I was completely gone at this point. I was shaking and sobbing and scratching at my wrists.
He hurt me. He broke me. He tore me apart.
I was too scared and broken to even try to put clothes on. I didn't want to move because I was afraid it would happen again. I was afraid he would hurt me like that again.
"Josh..." I whispered softly, my eyes flicking over to the table that held Josh. "I'm r-ready to j-join you. I'm r-r-ready to d-d-d-die now."
"Get dressed, bitch." I heard Josh's dad hiss and I scrambled to my feet and started getting dressed quickly.
"We have to leave, so be quick. And hide those tears before some suspects something." He said with yet another snarl.
I finished dressing within a matter of seconds and we both began to leave the room, but before we stepped out he landed a sharp slap on my ass.
It took everything in me not to fall apart right then and there.
As soon as he left me alone, I ran as fast as I could out of the near empty hospital. I tripped over several things on my way out but I kept stumbling on until I was far down the street from the hospital.
I fell to my knees and buried my head in my hands.
This was it. I couldn't do it anymore.