Each footstep from Travis getting closer to my bedroom sounds like a bomb going off.
It's time.
I take a deep breath and dial Pete's number, then turn my sound all the way down. I quickly check the device on the shelf to make sure it's on; it is.
I sit back on my bed and wait. In a matter of seconds, Travis is in my room, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and throwing me on the ground.
I whimper as I hit the floor with a thud. "I knew you were a fucking faggot." He snarls.
I flinch at the words. "So you're gonna beat me up because I'm gay? How the fuck as that right?" I ask shakily.
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
With a sudden rage boiling up inside me, I stand and step close to him. I put my face in his, just to piss him off. My fists are balled up at my sides, shaking. "You're a piece of shit. You know that? Using my mother for fucking pills, beating her son senseless. Don't deny it, Travis."
He narrows his eyes at me. "It's easy, considering nobody will believe you. You don't have any evidence."
I fight back a chuckle.
You're in for a surprise, bud.
I continue to egg him on. I push him lightly on the shoulders, making him step back. He raises his eyebrows, knowing that I never fight back.
"Look who decided to stand up for himself..." he observes.
"Who else is going to stand up for me? My mother is drunk off her ass and my father is dead. It's only me here." I tell him.
He chuckles and pushes me, making me fall to the ground again. As he pulls his fist back for a hit, my eyes flicker to the device on the shelf. There's a red light glowing, signaling that it's recording.
It'll be worth it.
Pete should be here soon. He should've figured it out by now, and he told me he wouldn't let Travis hurt me again. If I know him, I know that he'll come racing to my house as fast as he can.
I shut my eyes closed, clinging onto the hope that Pete will come any second.
The man's fist collides with my nose. I hear a crack noise, and feel a sudden numbness on the bridge of my nose. I put my hand up, feeling the warm blood run down from the wound.
I attempt to take a deep breath, but my nostrils are clogged with blood.
No. No. No. I can't do this.
"Stop!" I yell, "Please."
He laughs heartily. "When was the last time I stopped, kid?"
He sends a kick into my stomach. I'm not braced for the pain, so a whimper escapes from my mouth.
I give up, curling into a ball as he continues to kick and punch me.
All I can think about is Pete.
Where the hell is he?
The contact stops for a moment, so I peak my head out from under my arms to see Travis standing over me still, unbuckling his belt.
My breath hitches. "What are you-?"
He slides the leather belt from his jeans and unravels it completely. With a grin, he cracks it like a whip, causing me to flinch back.
I've never been hit with a belt before. It's got to be painful.
And suddenly I realize this is it. This is my dream. The dream where Travis is about to whip me with his leather, and where Pete saves the day.
But where's Pete this time?
I feel tears run down my cheeks as I realize this is it. Pete really did leave me. He doesn't care. Hell, he has a flight to catch. Why would he miss it for me?
Travis raises his steady arm with the belt in it, and brings it down on me before I can cover my face.
The friction of the leather on my skin creates an unbearable burning sensation on my face and neck. I hear myself scream, not quite realizing it's me.
The stinging remains even after he's lifted the belt up again, preparing for another strike.
This time, I close my eyes and lean back, letting my body go slack. Why try any more? Let him hurt me. Let him break my bones, and let him kill me. What have I got to live for?
"Patrick!" A voice screams from the doorway.
I peel my eyes open and look up to see Pete, my night in shining armor, standing in my room.
My eyes flick over to Travis, who's arm is up, preparing for a strike. He looks conflicted.
Within a second, a gruesome smile spreads on his face. "They'll never believe you two." He hisses, and brings the belt down again.
And just like in the dream, Pete darts in front of me within half a second, and takes the hit of the leather.
An ear-splitting scream escapes from his mouth. Pete drops to the ground, holding his eye tightly as blood escapes from in between his fingers.
Travis drops the belt and backs away, clearly not expecting him to jump in front of me. He dashes out of the room without saying another word.
"You'll pay for this!" I shout at Travis, crawling over to where Pete sat. I grab him by the shoulders. "Pete? Are you okay?"
He looks up at me with his uncovered eye. "A-Are you?" He stutters.
"Show me your eye."
"You're bleeding, Patrick."
"So are you. Show me your eye," I demand again. A drop of my blood runs over my lips, getting in my mouth. I spit on the ground.
He removes his hands from his face, letting me take in the damage. His eyelid has already swelled up, and the area above and below have burns from the leather, which is gushing blood.
"Go to the bathroom." I tell him, "Take a napkin and wet it, then clean it. Okay?"
"Where are you gonna be?"
"I'll catch up with you in a second."
"Patrick, we have to talk about what happened. You called me-"
"It's okay, Pete."
"No it isn't."
"Go."
I help him up, and he stumbles to the bathroom.
I stalk up to the camera on the shelf and pick it up, then end the recording.
I smile, despite everything.
I've got you, Travis.
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A/N
yoo what's up
Y'all I've got no motivation for this story bc I'm more interested in the other one that I'm writing. I'll try to finish strong though ! Thank you all so so much for supporting me during the writing of this fic. Every comment and vote has brought a smile to my face. Bless all of you <3