Beaten And Broken

 

I kept taking my own clothes off the rack in the closet. I didn’t even touch Jack’s clothes; I only came for what was mine. As soon as Jack had left, his parents did too, which I was fortunate for. It gave me alone time to be in the house and to think more clearly.  I couldn’t have ended up coming here at night when they were asleep. Jack would probably turn me in, just like he did before to mom.

There was no real need for him to tell her what I told him in secrecy. If he didn’t like it, then fine, but he could have kept it to himself. He could have at least spared me the agony of leaving by force, instead of by a choice. I bet if I even argued with him about it he would have told me I had a choice, but I just picked this way.

“You’re the one who walked out of the house,” he would tell to me, believing that his side was correct. “You’re the one who yelled to mom about how you couldn’t take it anymore.”

“She didn’t even understand what was going on! She only took your story!” I would yell to him, causing a commotion in the house.

“I told her the correct information. I told her exactly what she needed to know, nothing more.” He’d cross his arms and try to walk away.

“That wouldn’t be enough. If she didn’t hear all of it, then of course she would disregard one of her sons.”

“It’s not my problem.”

“It’s your problem! You caused all of this! What’d you even tell her anyways?” The rest that would come out his mouth would be lies, I was sure. I didn’t even need to talk to him about it because I knew it wouldn’t end well. I wouldn’t be able to change his mind to make him realized he did wrong. He probably encouraged the idea of changing the way I was. The whole family was against me in it, and was too opinionated to see the truth.

The only reason I could was because it happened to me. Out of everyone in this world, I was bored with the fault of being gay. I didn’t feel like I deserved it. There was no way to think that right now. All of it must have been some mistake; some screw up in my life. There was nothing to learn from it, nothing to gain, except a loss of family and more grief and pain than any teenager should bear. Any sane person would think that.

I’m one of the few teenagers who could handle this. I’ve haven’t gone and done something stupid. I’ve never resorted to cutting myself up, or gone around trying to gain pleasure from every girl. I knew it would lead to emptiness when I came back anyways. Maybe, that’s why I put faith in something bigger than all of us. I was looking for a solid fort to live by, whether or not it was against my own standards. Trading depression for mercy, for the price of ignoring what I wanted? That seemed like a fair trade, I mean it had made me happy. For a certain amount of time.

I was in over my head by doing this. I was in too deep from telling one person after the other. I created this mess by opening Pandora’s Box. All the emotions I could have were blown out of proportion, the biggest and the smallest secrets had flown away from me. It was over with Jack. Jack wouldn’t recognize me as a brother, or even merely a friend.

“What are you doing here?” My father’s deep voice came from the hallway to my right. I looked at him, and was surprised to find him actually there. I didn’t hear him come into the house, or up the stairs. I never wished to face him; I didn’t want to face anyone. I just wanted to come here and then get the heck out.

“I just needed my things…” I slowly told him, not knowing what he was thinking about. “What are you doing back so soon?” He stepped forward into the room. He looked at me, but also scanned his surroundings. When he looked back to me again, his eyes were cringed as if didn’t belong in my setting.

“I forgot something,” he told me. He wasn’t wasting time on the details. Me knowing what he was up to was just wasting his own breath and time. He wanted to know why I was here, and didn’t want my focus to be anywhere else. “How did you get back here?”

“I walked.” If he was going to give me the short hardball then I was going to return the same pitch.

“Was it far?” He walked in a few more feet, running his fingers over the top of the chair pulled out from the desk. It sounded weird that he was trying to act as if he cared. If he showed true sympathy, it might have fit, but his voice was unsteady. It was stressed as if we were meeting like we were strangers, trying to make some type of small talk.

 “It didn’t take me too long.” He seemed distracted by something hanging on his mind and I just wished he would spit it out.

“How did you get in the house?” That must have been it.

“I used my house key.”

“Your house key?” He asked, pushing the fact that I said I owned it. He had given it to me, and I was pretty sure it was legal for me to use it.

“Yeah,” I replied blandly.

“How is it yours to keep?”

“It was given to me and I’m the owner of it.” Why else would it be mine? I didn’t keep it for the memories.

“I don’t think that this is your house any longer.” There was the truth. Mother never cut me away from them, but she didn’t hold me back either. This was a push out.

“Since when?” I asked, a steam rising up inside me. I couldn’t feel the reason for it, since I could care less about this place. It just came over me.

“Ever since you walked out of here. You made that choice, so hand your keys over.” Now he was an arms length from me, his hand that was held out almost touching me.

“What if I want to come back?”

“That wouldn’t happen,” he bluntly replied. It shot out of his mouth, ready to be used. I looked down to the metal object in my hand, and spun it in my fingers.

“Do I not belong in your happy, cozy righteous family? Am I too messed up to be seen with you?” He dropped his hand, and kept it to his side.

“I don’t know who you fit with anymore.” He didn’t reply with an agreement to my question, but he didn’t hide the fact that he wanted to either.

“I think I know you don’t want me to fit right here.” He looked away, confirming my verification to see if it was true. “Since when did a pastor get so scared by being around sin? I always thought it was their job to bring them out of it?”

 He looked at me with eyes of frost. He always took his job seriously, and always equaled it with the importance of God and family. They were all tied tightly together in a supposed unbreakable knot to him.

“Sometimes when you go after a sin so deep, you can’t get yourself out of the hole.” Was he insinuating that I had screwed myself too badly? Was I already dead by to him? I was his son! I guess there’s one loose thread looser than the others in his tidy knot.

“Am I not worth the fight to you?”

“No. Not to me, at least. It’s not worth it, when you’ve already partaking in the sinful act.” So Jack did tell them more than he should have known.

“You’re all alike. You all have to try and fight for your safety in forgiveness. Sin goes to everyone, and if you looked in yourself, yours would be blacker than mine. I’m at least kind. You are just selfish, Jack is a manipulator and mother is just a maniacal b***h who speaks too much!” I had ranted on, not caring for consequences. There were none that applied to me since, as he had stated, I didn’t live under their house. Not under their house equals not under their rules.

“Don’t you ever speak in that way to me,” he yelled to me, saliva spraying from his lips. The anger was no longer in containment and I never knew he would get this angry from his own son. I guess I wasn’t as untouchable as I thought I was.

“I was only proving a point…” I replied, stuttering from the fear I felt welling up in me. It was hard for me to be scared, but his tense stance had made me fall back.

“It was an invalid point. Just because you don’t live here, it doesn’t mean you can parade around speaking any way you please.”

“You shouldn’t be able to speak that way either! You try and act tough, but I know you. You’ve never been strong enough to be.”

“You don’t live here; you don’t know how I’m allowed to speak. You don’t know my strength, and I doubt you’ll want to see it.”

“No. I don’t live here.” I stood up from where I was sitting on my bed. I didn’t face him directly but it was a start. It was a small boost of confidence. “I do know that hearing it is different that believing it.”

“Get your things and leave.” He clenched his teeth and I looked down to see his hands tightened into fists. I grabbed my bag of what I had been able to put in there, and began to walk past him. “Leave that here.”

“They’re my own things-“

“That aren’t yours anymore. I told you that much.”

“To hell they aren’t! Just let me grab my stuff so you can be on your way, and I can be on mine!”

“My way was fine until you became a defected child!” He spat to me. “That’s what you are. An accidental freak who popped up with your brother.” I looked him in the eye. There was no freaking way he would say that to me, no matter how powerful he was.

“Listen you old piece of crap. You used to love me, now you don’t. I don’t care, because you couldn’t matter any less to me. None of you do.” I began to push him back, letting my rage control me. “All of you are backstabbers. You’re incorrect Christ lovers who have no clue what you’re talking about. The word you spread is trash, just like yourself. I mean look at who you are. You’re throwing out your own son. You should be ashamed of your sorry, pathetic a*s-“

Out of nowhere a sting hit my face and my last word came out far too quickly for it to be normal speech. I shrunk back again, touching the burn that showed up quickly. I felt my cheek turn to fire, and I looked up to him. I wondered how he could do that to me with no consequence.

“I told you not to say those things to me! Do you understand me now?!” I nodded trying to hold back the pain I felt. “Now what are you going to do?”

“Leave your depressed, sagging basket case a*s alone…” Another hit, this time with a fist. The knuckle dug into my cheekbone, making a pounding noise when they connected with each other. I deserved that one, by speaking too loudly. This time the pain was inescapable, and I couldn’t help but reveal my weakness.

            “Are you going to cry now? Aw, don’t do that, please. Why don’t you go cry to your queer of a boyfriend?” He mocked me, enjoying every second of it I grabbed the bag I had been packing in, and started to run out. The bag was pulled out from me, and I left it, no longer caring to face the man that was holding it. I just wanted to leave that house, and after throwing the keys onto the dresser, I made it a point to do so.

            As I exited the room I hit something. I ran into a body standing in the doorway, and looked up to see Jack looking at me. I stared at him, rubbing my face as he watched back. After several seconds of him standing there silently, I ran down the stairs and out the door. No one was going to help me, and even though I knew Jack had problems with me, I thought he would be one of the only ones to help. I don't know what I was hoping for. I guess after seeing his father hit me I would assume he would stand up for me. He didn't stand against me, either, but a neutral body is a body that shouldn't be there at all.

I couldn't analyze what was possibly going through his mind.   Maybe he really was apathetic towards me now, or maybe he just was clueless on what to do. I don't know what could have provoked him to escape either problem, nor could I know how to escape my own troubles. Where would I go now? What would I live off of until I got a way to support myself?

Right before I was going to exit the front door, a set of keys on a hook had caught my attention. They weren’t Jack’s car keys, those were easily recognizable. This was to one of the other cars, so I grabbed it with the thought that no one would care if it was gone. We have enough for my parents anyways, so I’ll be taking sort of a spare car.

I had never stolen anything before in my life. Well, not on purpose, but that doesn’t consider to count as stealing. Those are only accidents that happen. Stealing a car was a huge step from my clean record, and I had to easily justify it so I wouldn’t chicken out. The hardness I felt from my father had helped in the process, something I didn’t want to think about. I didn’t want to rely on my father for any assisting in my life, whether if it was for the good or bad examples.

I grabbed the keys, and ran out the front to go around the building through the driveway. I got into the car that unlocked to the button, and then turned on the ignition. 

As I began to put it in drive, a face was looking out the back window on the second level, and an upset father was running out the back door. As he almost reached the car door, I released my foot off the brake, and excelled at a fast sped out of the driveway. Barely missing the corner of the house as I did.

It wasn’t hard to recover from that scare with my mind running as fast as it was. I didn’t know where I was going at the moment, or even tonight. I almost thought of Chad’s home, but I didn’t want to put him out even more. He kept saying he didn’t mind it, and so did his mom, but I do. I don’t want to be wasting all of his time to be with me, and they were too nice for me to freely take what they had. Being in a tough spot was no excuse for me to take even more things that I shouldn’t take for granted.

I reached into my wallet, still steadily moving through the familiar houses that lived near me. I looked inside, and had only twenty-five dollars left. I could try to live off that, or maybe go to my bank to retrieve the money saved in my account. With what I had there, it would be easier to live on my own until I was employed. I just had to hope the teller would let me access it. If it was a kind teller, I could explain my story and her heart strings would be easily pulled. It might not even require an easy teller, depending on how well I told my story.

With the money I had I could live in a cheap hotel for a small amount of time, or rent a apartment for a probable cheap monthly price. That sounded more reasonable, but it would take some thinking and solving to do. I would have to rest on it for awhile, and as I did I could stay in this car until I figured all these things out. I just would have to think of an area where I would be allowed to park without being disturbed or kicked off the premises.

Part of me wanted-no- wished to be at my own house. I missed my old “welcoming and warm” home. Both were untrue facts now, the first was because of the hostility shown by my parents. The second was not because of it being the November drafts being brought in, but because I’m alone and tired of the cold shoulders, and ignorance by the family who live there.

            I still kept on driving, deciding where to go. It had to be a place where I could chill and get my mind straight. Not in the way of a pun, but by the regain of common sense. I had to have no anger, no distractions, no get well soon helpers. Just me, my own mind, and my peace. The peace that I deserved to receive the first time I decided to open myself up to someone on my own will, and not by a mistake.