My Boys (boyxboy, girlxboy)

Chapter seven

I was scared of him. Scared of how much more he could do.

I was scared of what she couldn't do.

It was this fear that made me stay locked in my room for hours. I like the quiet. When I can't stay there I go to the library and take my laptop.

I like to watch movies more than I think anything else. I like watching what other people do with their lives. I like the romance ones or the sad ones.

It's probably weird how much I enjoy weeping for every failed relationship that cinema can show me.

My dad censors all moves brought into the house but  luckily the library has a DVD section. They're old but they are everything to me.

Most days after school if allowed, and if not talking to father, I go to the library, flop down on a beanbag and watch for hours.

Everyone has the internet now so there isn't ever anyone there. I can be alone for a while.

If it's not obvious I'm not really a people person. For as long as I can remember I hated people touching me. I don't recall a time where touching wasn't followed by pain so I tried to avoid it all cost.

"Good son, go wash up and be down for dinner in an hour"

I nodded and waited until my bedroom door shut to sink to my knees. I know by now it shouldn't hurt like it does but every time he leaves I can't breathe. My chest tightens and I feel like I'm dying. I looked it up online and it said I was having panic attacks.

Once I stop gasping I slug myself to the bathroom. The shower burns in an uncomfortable way but I don't leave. The mirror dogs over when the heat is up and I do t have to see myself. I don't have to see how red my eyes will be and the dark bruises that lie underneath.

I dry myself quickly, avoiding my back as much as is possibly, dad will probably give me a nice pack tonight. He doesn't always break the skin but I can feel he left a big mark today. He was particularly mad about something since after lunch so I should have seen it coming.

"Samuel dinner!" my mother yells and I don't hesitate to run down the stairs almost tripping on the last few steps.

"I told you to be ready" my father scowls when I sit down

"Sorry father" I push my eyes to the table and wait for him to say grace. I don't look up until he's left. I think it makes him calmer. Not to see me staring

"You'll bring your phone and laptop down in ten minutes" he grunts and walks to the living room

Every night at eight I surrender my phone and laptop to him until after school the next day. He doesn't want me up all night or being tempered to use them for ugly reasons.

That night I don't manager to get to sleep until after 2. This left me more zombie like in school than I usually was.

As you can probably imagine I'm not someone who has a whole bunch of friends. But it's ok. People probably want friend a who they can talk to and hug without having to worry about them crying. I get it. I don't blame them for it.

Sometimes I don't even blame my dad, it's not his fault I'm gay after all, that's my fault. He's only trying to make me normal. To save me.

School passes slowly until finally the last bells rings. Sometimes I like to walk slower than the other kids leaving school and just watch them. I like to see them gathering in groups, smiling and pushing each other around playing. I've never had friends like that but sometimes I wish I did.

I almost made friends with my next door neighbour, the one I he'd hands with when we were little, but my dad forbid it. Probably for the best anyway, I seem to be a bit of a burden on my parents.