Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2013 - Fall - Pandora's Box Entry
Broken Boy - 2. Story: Part 2
The darkness gradually gave in to the game of days and nights. Two weeks passed and along the way the bruises and the wounds healed. The fidgeting hands at the dinner table came to a rest. The creases of worry were replaced with soft smiles. Strangely, along with those disappearing horrors, Keith’s own demons were gone, leaving behind the resolve to help the stranger. The silence remained, though, as a friend both took reassurance in. Unsaid words hung between them- soft, soothing and tender like a balm to the wounds of the past.
Keith placed a few set of clothes along with a pair of sneakers in the boy’s room while the latter looked at him quizzically. He simply shrugged and went to his room to get ready. During the two weeks that had passed, the boy had never left the house. Maybe, it was time for him to have some fresh air. Keith checked himself in the mirror, carefully adjusting his shirt to avoid creases. He laughed to himself when he realized that he had never bothered about how he looked before. Maybe, things were changing.
By the time, he was ready, the boy was waiting for him near the door, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt. Keith smiled at him and they walked out of the house. The weekend had just started. At eight in the morning, most people were still in bed, leaving the road almost empty, glowing in the soft sunshine. Occasional chirps of birds filled the air. Keith looked back and saw the boy following him a few paces back. He walked to him and stood by his side. The boy looked at him, clearly confused. Then, he took a step forward and Keith did the same. Smiling, the boy walked and Keith walked by his side with their steps synchronized.
Keith felt a strange buoyancy in his steps as he walked beside the boy. At times, their shoulders would bump or their hands would touch. Every time, he would look to his left, he would see that small smile lingering on those lips and Keith would run his hand through his hair, grinning like a fool.
At this time on a Saturday, most of the places were still closed, except for the small coffee shop at the corner of the street. Both of them went in and the waft of coffee replaced the air of summer.
“Hello, Emma,” Keith said to the girl behind the counter.
“Hello, there. I haven’t seen you in a while,” she answered cheerfully, “What will you have? The usual?”
“Yup.”
“And for you, young man,” she said as she looked at the boy.
“An espresso?”
“So a latte and an espresso, it is. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring your drinks right up.”
Both of them took a seat at the table near the window. There was no one else in the coffee shop yet a warm home-like feel thrived in the place. Soft cushions filled the place with heavy cream-coloured curtains filtering the sunshine. A few magazines were left on each table. Keith watched as the boy grabbed one. He silently flipped through the pages and stopped at the word games page with a half-done Word Search game. He grabbed a pen and encircled one of the words. Keith looked at the grid of letters. Having found another word, he took a pen and joined in. He was so engrossed in the game that he barely noticed the boy encircling two pair of letters, which didn’t seem right.
TH-NX
He laughed when his mind registered the meaning. He looked up and saw a small curl at the end of the boy’s lips. Keith encircled some other words.
WL-CME
“Here you go,” Emma said as she laid two steaming cups in front of them.
“Here,” Keith slipped a note on her tray, “keep the change.”
“Thank you.”
Sipping the hot latte, Keith looked through the window and watched the passer-bys. They seemed different and perfect, going on with their lives calmly. Did they have their own demons? If they did, how could they all be so peaceful? He felt strangely alienated from the rest of the world, as if an invisible wall existed between them. On this side was just him.
Through the steam rising from his cup, he looked at the boy sitting in front of him. His eyes were set on the passer-bys yet Keith knew he was looking at something else. He watched as the smile on the almost healed lips faded and the creases appeared on his forehead. Keith realized that he wasn’t alone on this side, and neither was the boy. He grabbed the latter’s hand and squeezed it slightly. The blue eyes looked at him. The creases relaxed. The smile returned, albeit slightly.
By the time they were done, the coffee shop was already half-full. The street was full of life, with people enjoying the summer air. The rest of the day, both boys strolled along the road, stopping at times to listen to some buskers or to look at the display windows of shops. When they returned home, it was already night time.
Sitting on one side of the sofa, Keith turned and looked at the boy on the other side. The flickering white light from the television reflected on his face, playing with the shadows. Half-hidden in the darkness, the blue eyes shone bright and determined. Keith got to his feet and walked to him. He extended his hand. He simply shrugged as the boy looked at him, half-amused and half-confused. Nevertheless, the latter grabbed his hand and got to his feet. Keith slipped his hand around his waist and started the few steps he had learned a few years ago. The boy laughed and strutted along. They danced together in the faint light with the soft hum in the background. Their bodies were pressed together. Keith grinned each time his dancing partner looked at him and smiled. It felt weird, as if there was nothing more right than this.
A sharp knock at the door halted Keith’s musings. He cussed under his breath as he walked away. Keith opened the door and froze as he came face to face with Shephard with two cops by his side.
“That should be him. Arrest him, officer,” Shephard bellowed. “He’s the one who kidnapped my son.”
“What are talking about?” Keith yelled while one of the officers came forward.
“We received information that you have kidnapped Mr. Shephard’s son and that you are hiding him in your house.”
“What are you guys doing?” A voice shouted from behind. The boy came between Keith and the officers. “He didn’t kidnap me. I came here on my own.”
“What?” The officers looked confused as they looked at the man they had come with.
“He’s not in the right state of mind…”
“Of course, I am! I am an adult and I am in my full senses. I came here on my own and I’m not leaving. You guys can’t force me.”
“Mr. Shephard, if he accepts that he’s here voluntarily, there’s not much we can do.”
“Don’t you see that he’s being forced to lie,” Shephard continued shouting. “We don’t know him. We never saw him before. What would my son do with him?”
“Of course, I know him,” the boy stood firmly in front of Keith. “He’s… he’s my boyfriend.”
“Do you mean that you’re gay?” one of the officers asked shakily, as if afraid of angering someone.
“Yes, I’m gay,” the boy said, looking directly at his father. He stood confident, sure but Keith could see his hand shaking. Was it out of fear? Tension? He slipped his hand in the soft shaking hand. He squeezed it gently and could feel the boy relaxing slightly next to him.
“He’s lying.” Spits flew out of Shephard’s mouth while his face changed to an ugly shade of red.
“Young man…” the officer started but before he could say another word, the boy turned and wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, kissing him on the lips. The latter stood still for a second, shocked at the sudden contact. Then, he placed his hands around the tensed boy. He opened his mouth as the boy continued kissing him.
The boy broke contact and turned to face the officers. “Is this enough? Or do you want us to get naked and have sex in front of you for you to believe us?” His tone increased with each word while the officers avoided any eye contact, clearly uneasy.
“You aren’t gay. How many times do I have to tell you? This is just a phase,” Shephard came closer.
“It’s not a phase! I like men, I like dick, penis, cock, or any other way you want to call it, of all sizes, of all colours,” His voice broke as he shook. Keith realized that it wasn’t out of fear but anger. “I’m gay. I’m a faggot, a fag, a cocksucker. And I’m proud of it.”
“You bastard!” Shephard raised his hand to strike his son but Keith jumped in front, grabbing his hand.
“Don’t you ever dare,” he said firmly. He looked at the two cops who were standing in the background, clearly turning a blind eye to the actions of the influent man.
“You shouldn’t have messed with me, kid,” Shephard said to Keith’s face, “I’ll make your life a real hell.”
“I wouldn’t try that if I was you,” the boy said as he came to stand next to Keith. “If you ever do anything to him, the full details of my coming out along with the detailed descriptions of my parents’ reactions would be the headline of newspapers.” Shephard opened his mouth to stop him but he continued louder than ever. “And yes, I do know that you have the money to buy every damn newspaper but I know of many other ways to get it out there in the gossip mill. If during the last years, I have watched you building yourself, I also watched you destroying others. Touch him and I’ll make my life’s goal to destroy you, Mr. Shephard.”
“You broke into my house.”
The boy let out a dry humorless laugh. “And what are you going to say? That you had locked your son in because he’s gay? That you had religious bigots telling him that he’s a sinner every day and every night? That you starved him, you beat him? That you snatched away every one of his friends by manipulating them with your lies and influences? That you had broken your son to the point that he lived just to wait for death? That his sole hope of a possible life was following a stranger at night, thinking that even if he was raped and killed, at least it would be better than the life he was living? That he spent every minute of every day thinking what was his goddamn fault?” He was shouting by now. His body shook as he wiped the tears running down his face. . Keith stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder. He clenched his teeth while he listened to the boy. He didn’t know whether to be sad for what he had been through or to be furious about Shephard’s acts.
“Let’s go, officers,” Shephard said, “I have no son here.”
“Great!” the boy yelled at his father’s back. “My father died the day he told me that I was an abomination, a sin to be hidden.”
He slammed the door. He remained still for a moment but then, before Keith could hold him, he crumbled to the ground. His body heaved as he sobbed. Keith knelt down beside him and hugged him. He felt his shirt drench with tears as the boy cried in his chest. He tightened the embrace and his own tears betrayed his strength as they rolled down.
After that incident, the silence returned, like the deafening calmness after the storm. Everything that Keith had built over the past few weeks was left strewn apart. And in the middle of everything was the boy. He stood stoic, like the lone tree who had been stripped bare yet remained upright. The creases and fidgeting didn’t return. All that remain was that expressionless face, a stoic acceptance of his fate.
Days passed. Every time Keith would look at the boy, he would smile but then, even that would disappear. And sometimes, he would catch the boy looking at him, focused, almost as if looking beneath him. His blue eyes would seek his green ones, searching for something. Keith never knew what, but when found, his face would soften.
Chopping sounds filled the kitchen as Keith cut the onions. Helping each other in the kitchen had become a sort of daily ritual. He hummed as he increased the volume on the radio.
“It’s a little bit funny this feeling inside,
I’m not one of those who can easily hide
I don’t have much money but boy if I did,
I’d buy a big house where we both could live…”
Keith stopped when he realized what he was doing. When he looked to his left, he saw the boy, hiding a smile, while continuing to prepare the salad. The green-eyes boy kicked himself mentally. Then, a small voice next to him continued:
“I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do,
My gift is my song and this one’s for you…”
Keith grinned as he listened to the sweet voice. He joined in as he walked next to the boy.
“I hope you don’t mind,
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words,
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world…”
Keith grabbed a spatula and jumped on one of the chairs, singing. He knew he was making a fool out of himself but looking at the boy laughing, he grinned back. He watched as the boy grabbed a pan and strummed along like a guitar. He jumped back to the ground, close to the boy. He had never seen those blue eyes so happy, so beautiful.
Their hands interlocked as their voices become one, the joy shining through. They were much closer now. Keith could count the faint freckles on the pale face. He could feel his breath on his skin. He closed the distance, kissing him. Something burst inside him, like a firework of emotions- gratitude, reassurance, comfort, care and mostly that pure joy of the start of something strong. He squeezed the hands tightly as he broke contact.
“Hi, I’m Keith,” he said breathlessly.
The boy laughed as he rested his forehead against his. It was such a beautiful sound, tingling that firework of emotions deep inside him.
“Nice to meet you, Keith. I’m Aidan.”
And thank YOU for reading the story till this point. 'Broken Boy' is a weird story, in some ways. So I would really like to know your thoughts. Please review and let me know what you think. It means a lot to me.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2013 - Fall - Pandora's Box Entry
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