weak; mcduke

hallucination

hallucination (n)- an experience involving the apparent perception of something not present.

october 14, 1989 / duke's pov

I completed applying my lipstick and gave myself a once-over in the mirror. Heather stood on the other side, applying her own makeup in silence. She'd wince every time I moved. And that made me giddy in a twisted way.

"Ready?" I asked curtly. Heather nodded. "Then let's go," I stated and went out to the Jeep. My seat-belt let out a click as I fastened it and let my hands fall onto the steering wheel with a muffled thump. The door slammed shut and I glanced in the rear-view mirror. The shadow's blistering white orbs were fixed on me. It had become a permanent element wherever I went. It caused goosebumps to appear on my paled skin, despite it hanging around more and more often. It had no sense of personal space and often lingered over my shoulder, whispering suggestions.

I never thought to consider what it was made of or why it was there.

// mcnamara's pov

The ride to the church was saturated with tense silence. Heather only laid eyes on me one time the entire way there. A lump rested in my throat and on multiple occasions I choked back tears. If she noticed me doing so, she never pointed it out. Maybe she didn't loathe me as much as I thought she did. Entertaining the possibility kept my mind from drifting back to Ram.

Heather slumped down on the pew and I followed suit. I kept my fingers tightly knit on my lap. A few low notes on the organ in the room and guests within in fell quiet. Two men were standing in the front, each in front of a closed coffin with football helmets adorning the top. My stomach ached and my stiff back radiated soreness.

"I don't really know what I'm supposed to say up here," the bald-ish man started. "I'm ashamed, certainly." His head swiveled to a different section of people. His hands were shoved into his pockets.

"My family has turned this town into a laughing stock." The hands flew up in the air in an exasperated gesture.

"My boy Kurt wasn't who I thought he was and when I think of the sick, disgusting things Kurt and Ram were doing-" So apparently this man was Kurt's father.

"Now, you wait just a minute Paul!" the second man growled, shoulders squared stiffly as he stared down "Paul". "It is ignorant, hateful talk like yours that makes this world a place our boys could not live in."

And so began a long preaching session on "Bill"'s part. He explained to us how he loved his "dead gay son" and how neither Kurt nor Ram were wrong. I didn't look at Heather but silently wondered what was going through her head. I decided I did not ever want to know. Then things got interesting when Bill turned on Paul.

"Paul, I can't believe that you still refuse to get a clue, after all that we've been through... I'm talking you and me! In the summer of '83!" Bill shouted, pointing an accusing finger in Paul's direction. The latter froze up from his endeavor of trying to escape the room. A collective gasp from the spectators, myself included.

"...That was one h*ll of a fishin' trip..." Paul trailed off before swiftly pushing his way through the crowd and full-on kissing Bill. I likely wasn't the only person who noticed Paul grabbed Bill's butt. Both men continued the crusade for a minute or two before exiting the room. A good number of us were shocked into dumbness. Apparently, being gay ran in the family. That didn't make my heart hurt any less.