Jack's P.O.V
Mark has seen my parents. Briefly. And there's a reason for that. My mom and dad aren't... good with people. Or me. To them, I'm a disappointment. Just a huge fucking failure. I've tried everything I can to make them proud. They never think it's enough. I've made the football team, I've gotten straight A's, I've even donated all of my money to a charity that supports autism awareness.
But it's never enough. People ask where I get my bruises. I say from football. I get my bruises from them. Every time I don't have a friend over, my parents hit me. My mom, is the worst. One time she beat me with a glass bottle. Broke it right over my head. I still have a scar on my temple. My dad just slaps me. All of my siblings have moved out. Either with family or friends, saying that a high school or college was better for them. But my parents needed one person to stay with them. And that was me.
It's after school right now, and I'm slowly walking to my home with Mark. I don't want to get beat today, so I got the idea to invite Mark over.
"Hey Markimoo?" I ask sweetly. I know he loves when I do that, it makes him laugh. I look over at him and he's smiling and giggling. "Yeah Jackaboy?" he replies sweetly.
"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to my humble abode?" I ask, not really knowing what I just said at all.
"I thought you would never ask," Mark said, going along with the weird role play. We burst out into laughter. I got my phone out to text my parents we were having company and so did Mark.
Jack: I invited Mark over, is that okay?
Mom: He's been coming over a lot.
Jack: Yeah. He's my boyfriend. Of course he comes over a lot.
Mom: Your boyfriend? You mean friend who's a boy?
Jack: No... I forgot I haven't told you. Mark and I have been together for almost a year now...
Mom: You. Fucking. Fag. No, Mark cannot come over. I can't believe my son is a faggot. I thought I raised you better than that. You are going to have to get a punishment.
Jack: Mom, please. Not that. Anything but that.
Mom: Get your gay ass home. NOW.
"Mark?" I asked shakily. He noticed. "What's wrong?" He looked at my phone. I didn't stop him. He took it out of my hands and read all of my messages with her. All of the verbal abuse and threats. Mark got his phone back out. I peered over his hands. He was calling somebody.
911.
He's going to tell the police.
"No Mark, please, that'll only make it worse," I begged.
I heard over the phone, "911, what's your emergency?"
"My boyfriend is being physically and verbally abused. I have text messages to prove it and he has bruises that I had thought up until now, were from football."
"Okay, what's the location?"
"Enter address here,"
"Dispatch officers are on their way. Are you currently at that location?"
"We are walking up to his house right now."
"The officers will bring you into the station for questioning."
"Thank you for your time," and then the call was ended. I was a mess by then.
"Mark... Why? It's not going to do anything. I'll have nowhere to stay."
"You have me. Your parents are going to do some good time in jail. I'll make sure no one hurts you ever again."
"Funny, I used to be the one to protect you. Now you're protecting me. I love you. So much," I say. I'm crying very hard.
"I love you too, Sean. I love you so much," he replies. He was crying too.
__________________________________________
Stay strong, and remember, you are loved!!!