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My Only Escape - 41. Chapter 40 (Part Two)


"My Only Escape 41"

 


"I love you..." I said, an exhilarated whimper of joy escaping me just moments before his lips met mine again.

"I love you too, Zack..."

The last words spoken to before a freshly drawn out session of kissing and caressing one another in the most intimate ways all over again. Except, this time...as I moved my legs to straddle his lap...his hardness touching mine, I noticed that he was more than 'wet' enough to make things a little bit easier...or at least, I was hoping so. I didn't want to break the moment.

It's like...this sensual 'itch', you know? The idea that you feel so comfortable, so attached, to another boy the way that I feel right now...that you simply don't feel close enough to them in that moment. That you're both tensed up and totally relaxed at the same time. Not only willing, but practically begging for them to invade you in the most passionate way. To grant them access...and have them know that this is a special moment that you're only willing to share with the most beautiful part of your life. To surrender yourself, and let your lover know that you're ok with being completely vulnerable for the sake of love. I wasn't sure that I was ready. To think about it too much would, undoubtedly, ensure that I'd never be ready. But I wanted it. I ached with a craving that would finally give myself over to Brody, body and soul, right here...and right now.

As I kissed him deeply, I allowed myself to move myself down even lower, trying to find a decent angle as I felt his hardness poking at the narrow cleft between my cheeks. It turned me on to no end, but it doesn't mean that it didn't embarrass me to appear to forward with letting him know what I was hinting at. I kept trying to see if I could find a way open myself up to him without reaching back with both hands to pry my mounds open for him, but I couldn't seem to do it. The valley between my globes was too tight...causing his hardness to bend or slide to one side or the other without warning. So...after a few minutes worth of pent up sexual frustration...I reached back with one hand and arched my back...spreading my straddling legs even further apart...and taking a hold of his shaft to guide it towards the right spot.

Brody's eyes suddenly popped open, and he took in a sharp breath, resting his hands, palms down, on my bare thighs...and he whispered, "Wait...I mean...are you sure?"

It was obvious that I had been caught red handed. I was too scared to admit it. Too anxious to deny it. What do I say? I just looked into his eyes, feeling the courage building up inside of me a little bit at a time. And then, I finally closed my eyes for a second to slowly nod my head. Then I opened just one of them to see if maybe he had a look of rejection or disgust on his face after a brief moment spent in silence. I think Brody was just as nervous about this as I was. I don't know if that made me feel better or worse about all of this, but I tried to aim his hardness at my most private spot again, anyway.

"Hold on a sec..." He said, and I immediately felt ashamed for even suggesting such a thing. I went too fast. Pushed too hard. STUPID!

"I'm sorry. Nevermind, ok? Just...wha we were doing before was fine. It was fun. I was just..."

"No, wait. I'm just...I'm not saying 'no'. Err...unless you're saying no. Which would be totally ok with me." He blushed. And then I blushed. I wasn't sure where to go from there, but I saw Brody reach for the dresser at the side of his bed and open the drawer. He fumbled around in there for about fifteen seconds or so, and then he found what he was looking for and pulled it out. It looked like this little plastic packet of clear gel or something. Almost like those pods that people use in their dishwashers, only smaller. Brody fiddled with it for a moment, and then had to use his teeth to bite it open. Hehehe, I think he got some in his mouth, because he had to turn his head and spit it out on the pillow. My baby is so cute sometimes. Then he told me to raise up on my knees as he poured some into the palm of his hand. "They were passing these out in Health class, but I mostly just use it to...you know...well, to think about you at night, to be honest."

"Oh. M'kay." I said.

"It's supposed to make things feel better. For both of us, I mean."

Trembling nervously, I just nodded and whispered, "Cool..."

I didn't know if I had to do anything or...oh wait...he's reaching down to put it on himself. He stroked himself a few times, and I could hear him 'squishing' a bit over my shoulder, and I smiled while thinking about him doing this while he was in this bed all alone at night. "Do you want some too?" Did I? Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware of what lubrication is, I just...wasn't really sure how it worked, exactly. So I just nodded and held out my hand. He squirted a dollop of the liquid in my palm and I brought it to my hard shaft to coat it with its slippery feel. "Hehehe, oh...no. Zack, you're supposed to put it...you know...back there. Not, like..."

"Oh!" I said, my blush getting even deeper. "Sorry."

"S'ok."

"If it's any consolation...it still feels pretty damn good." I grinned, and he gave me some more, which I leaned forward and rubbed on my exposed hole while kissing him on the lips again. "M'kay."

"You ready?" He asked with a shaky voice.

"I'm ready. Yeah."

"Ok..." This time, I didn't mind dropping the pretense of hiding my lustful need for him any longer, and I pressed my head down on his chest as I used both hands to pry my cheeks open and present my virginal treasure to him without any shame at all.

The way my body shivered the moment his spongy head touched my quivering entrance...Brody almost thought that I was backing out of the whole situation at the last moment. I had to convince him by whispering, "It's ok. Keep going."

He quietly whined, "Let me know if I hurt you, ok? I don't ever want to hurt you."

Just hearing him say that made me relax even more, turning my head to kiss him on the cheek to agree to his terms. I wanted to give him everything. Every last part of me. Please take me, Brody. If only for this night.

Did it hurt? Yeah...it did. I'm not talking about blinding pain or anything...but losing my virginity to another boy for the first time was certainly no walk in the park for me. It took a few attempts, some repositioning, and a little soft spoken communication as to how we were both going to figure this out...but with time and patience and LOTS of sweet kisses from my beautiful boyfriend, comforting me as best as he could...the acorn shaped tip slipped into me. Splitting my stubborn defenses and sinking into my body with such ease that it felt like it always belonged there from the very beginning.

We both gasped and moaned at the same time, causing us to giggle sensually for a moment as I just held it inside of me, feeling it flex as my body did its best to adjust to the intrusion. It hurt in the most intimate way imaginable. A 'pleasurable' pain. Not punches and slaps, not kicks to the stomach, or the pain I felt from my father's constant pinches to my pride. But a pain born out of the unconditional love that we had for one another. There's nothing else like it. Nobody can hurt me with as much kindness and affection as Brody can. We tongue kissed one another again, and the lube allowed him to slip in a little bit deeper into my love. I think it was mostly accidental on both of our parts...and as it went a little too far in for my immediate comfort, my legs sort of locked up and I held my breath as I involuntarily clenched my hole around his shaft. "Holy Jesus fucking shit!!!" He gasped, and we both tried to get our eager bodies to relax again. Youth makes you anxious sometimes...and for my virgin experience, trying to sit still and wait for us to get started was tantamount to a little boy waiting for a new game system for Christmas. I just wanted this to go right. And so far...it was perfection, tenfold.

Soon, I was able to lower myself a bit more, getting my round globes closer to his lap, but I could only go an inch or so at a time before I had to stop again. My erection was pulsing so hard in front of me that it was pure agony for me to not grab a hold of it and jack myself off to a huge release right there on Brody's chest! Especially with it being covered in lube and shining in the afternoon sunlight like that. But I had both of my hands planted firmly on his thighs as I leaned back and tried to sink more of him into me as gradually and as safely as possible. It feels different than I thought it would, but not in a bad way. I mean...I really liked it! I just was a little worried about trying to fully impale myself on it all at once. I've never done this before, but I know enough to understand that it doesn't sound like a good idea for me to do that.

I could feel Brody's legs shaking in the cutest way as I let him slip a little further into my snugly fitting tunnel, and that only made me more determined to get all of him inside. And with just a little bit more work...I finally felt my cheeks resting on his lap, where I let out a long sigh and moved my hands up to rub his flat stomach with both hands. The tip of his hardness was pressed up against something in me that sent wiggles through me, and when I rose up a bit and sat back down again...it hit that magical spot again, feeling even better than the first time. Wow! Let me do that again! "Soooo tight..." Brody whispered.

"Huh? Too tight? I'm sorry." I said, but he reached for my hips and held me still.

"No no no...keep going. Please?" He said. So I rose up a bit further again, and then sank down again. And then again. Each time, having hit that exciting place within me that only made me want more and more. To the point where I began to gyrate my hips to get his hard tip to circle and rub up against it until I was almost too breathless to remain conscious. "Omigod, Zack...don't...don't stop..."

We both began a rhythm where I slowly bounced on his lap, and he began to time his measured thrusts upward into me with more force than before. We whimpered and panted in unison until the compelling drive to go even harder took us over. And it dawned on me that we were actually making love. Sex...true sex...was no longer this vague emotion attached to a single three letter word that had been discouraged and hidden and even demonized my whole life. It was now painting my every fantasy with broad strokes of vibrant color. Finally given a clear definition, exploding with a euphoric fireworks display that set my spirit on fire and pushed me beyond the boundaries of any pleasure that I've ever known. Yes! Oh GOD, yes! More! Please...MORE!

My insides clutched so tightly around Brody's erection that he couldn't hold himself back for longer than a few minutes...but when he came, it was with the force a geyser. Flooding me as his whole body began to spasm and twist in reaction to a climax that he could never have prepared for, even if he tried. I wish I could have felt it inside of me, but I could only tell from his wailing and writhing that I knew he was releasing his heated seed into my tight virgin hole. That, combined with the slick fluid that came with it, allowing my motions to be much more lubricated than they were a moment ago.

I only had a second's warning before I let loose and sprayed my own offering all over Brody without even touching myself. A load even bigger than the first from the looks of it. Just not as thick. It just sort of 'happened' all by itself from me being so hot for the super sexy boy that I was riding for all I was worth at the time. Omigod! A hands-off ejaculation from inner anal stimulation alone is something that everybody should experience just once in their life. I swear...it's like world peace delivered in a teaspoon's worth of squirts. And when we were done...I collapsed on top of him for a few quick kisses before rolling over to the side and letting him slip out of my no-longer-virgin orifice. Both of us huffing and puffing as though we had just run three marathons, back to back. Oh God! Oh WOW! Is this what sex with my very own boyfriend is going to be like from now on??? How the FUCK did I ever live without this before now? Oh man! My whole body feels weak from head to toe...and yet, it feels so 'alive'. There's like this subtle electric current traveling through me right now, and I don't know what to do with it. I think the endorphins in my system forced me to smile, and even giggle a little bit to myself, for the sake of burning off some of that excess energy before it completely overwhelmed me...but it felt good, nonetheless. It felt like the best kind of madness. Hehehe! I don't know how else to describe it. I have no words. Seriously.

"Whoah..." Brody cooed warmly. "...Did that just happen?"

"I was trying to figure out that same thing." I said. "I think...I think it did." Then I took a hold of Brody's hand, and I told him, "I'm glad it happened."

He looked at me, and raised my hand to his lips to give it a little kiss before sighing and admitting, "I'm glad it happened too."

And there we stayed. Just doing our best to ride out the intense afterglow of our very first virgin experience with one another. Trying not to float away on the sensual high of it all. I didn't even realize that it started to rain while we were spending such an intimate moment together. Not until the raindrops began to pelt the glass of his bedroom windows. And whether it was the storm clouds rolling in or the time of day, I noticed that it was starting to get dark outside. And that meant that I was going to have to leave my angelic sweetheart behind and go home to face...whatever may be waiting for me there.

What can I say? I knew that I was going to have to 'pay the toll' for coming over here...but I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't worth it.

Finally....for once...I was able to experience the one day in my whole fucked up existence where I feel like I can honestly say that I lived my best life...and I did it all. I'm so proud of that.

It would be selfish of me to ask for anything more.

It took a while for me to convince Brody that I seriously needed to go. He kept trying to get me to stay, hehehe! He even got hard again on purpose to entice me. But the longer I put this off, the worse it'll be. I knew that. I didn't tell him about it, but he could see the distress in my eyes...and once we were both dressed and I was standing at his front door...he sniffled a bit and looked as if here about to shed a few pointless tears on my behalf. Even after all the love that he had shown me, saving me from more suffering than I could ever hope to put into words...I didn't feel worthy of this level of emotion. Not from Brody. He deserves better. Better than having to help me carry a weight that neither one of us should be asked to hold up on our own. It hardly seems fair.

But, like I said...voice in my head aside...I wasn't about to tell him that.

"I can come home with you, Zack. If you want. It's raining again. I can...I can just come home with you and make sure you get there safe..." He said with a quivering voice.

But I just smiled, and I caressed the side of his face, giving him a sweet kiss on his lips. "I'll be alright, Brody. I promise." I said. "And the next time your mom goes bowling, we'll get together again and have some more fun. K?" I kissed him again, and I said, "Today was more than I ever could have dreamed it could be. You'll always be the best thing that ever happened to me. Don't you ever forget that. Promise?"

"Zack..." He sobbed, and moved in to hug me tightly around the neck as we both cried on each other's shoulders. "...I love you."

"Love you too." I didn't want to draw this out any longer. If he had asked me to stay, I probably would have. And that meant that I had to leave before he got the chance. That's what self preservation does for boys in my situation. It forces you to choose between the lesser of two evils. And like I always said...

...It's always better to deal with devil you know, than the devil you don't.

But...no one will ever be able to tell me that I didn't have love in my life when I was here. Because I did. I had kisses and giggles and moments where the cutest boy in school held me close like he really loved me. For everything that I was, and everything that I wasn't. I've got no complaints. "I'll see ya 'round, babe..." I said. The word 'babe' giving me a joyful tingle as I opened the door and heard a bit of thunder boom overhead.

"Call me tonight?" Brody asked.

I just smiled and said..."Sure. Later." And I hurried out into the rain to make it home. I can't believe that he loves me soooo much. I really can't. But I love him too. I hope he knows that. I need him to know that. No matter what.

And so I was off. The devil was waiting for me at home, but just the feeling of cool rain on my face, the pulsing of my infatuated heart, and that little tingle that I could still feel in my trembling ring after being penetrated for the very first time...gently...carefully...tenderly...

...It just made me smile.

The horror of what was to come simply didn't bother me anymore. It was a peak that I never thought that I'd be able to reach after being stuck in the valley for oh so long. Sinking in emotional quicksand. Refusing to take the hand of anyone who was willing to help me out of it.

Until today.

Brody helped me to escape. He was the only one who could make me see any value in myself at all, my own mother aside. I owe him my life for that. And he can have it. All of it. Thank you for being my angel, baby. The cure for everything that was broken in me. I'll always love you for that.

When I got home, a slight tremor began to beat heavily in my chest. Slamming against my ribs and crowding my lungs until it was almost too hard for me to breathe. But the smile remained. I've got love to protect me now. It's something that my father will never be able to touch. It's mine. He can't break it. He can't toss it in the trash, he can't beat it out of me, and he'll never be able to convince me that it isn't real. Because, despite all of the damage he's done to me over the years...I now know that there's a way out. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. And he doesn't have any power over that. None at all.

I walked up the back steps and put my key in to open the door. My hair was wet, my shirt was soaked from the rain, and I kicked my shoes off as soon as I walked into the kitchen so as not to trak any mud into the house. I won't lie to you...I felt good. I felt great. And I felt like giggling and skipping happily back to my room once I got my shoes off.

But when I turned around...there he was. Standing right there in the hallway. The very size of him was too intimidating to think that I'd ever be able to simply sneak past him. I was definitely going to take a beating. I could already see it in his eyes. In his stance. I could even hear it in the way he was breathing. It's not like I'm not used to the signs at this point. Like they say...every animal can sense its own distinction.

"So..." He said, his voice holding back his full fury in order to catch me off guard once he explodes again. "...You just decided that you were going to come home whenever you felt like it, huh? No homework? No chores? No dinner?"

There was a storm inside of me that was still terrified of him...to the point where I nearly wet myself in his presence...but this was different. I had an anchor. I had something to remind me that I had an entire life outside of his vile torture and utter disgust for everything that I am as a person. And if I could just hold on to the beauty of Brody's kiss in my heart...I felt as though I could face anything he had to throw my way. Anything.

"I went to a friend's house after school. That's all." I said, still keeping my distance.

"That's not what I fucking asked you..." He snarled through gritted teeth. "...You're supposed to come straight home from school. Not just today, but EVERY day! What did I tell you, huh?"

Figuring that he was going to hurt me either way, I fixed my posture...shoulders back, chest out...and I looked him right in the eye. "It's no big deal. I wanted to go. So I went." I said. "Just let me change into some dry clothes and I'll get dinner started..."

I walked towards him to get to my room, but he didn't move. Now angrier than ever. "Big man now, are ya?"

"I said I'd make dinner, what more do you want from me?" I said defiantly. After soooo many years of scathing remarks and aggressive abuse, I just didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower before his rage like I usually do. For one day...just one...I wanted to live my life as though it mattered. And he had no right to prevent me from doing so. Enough is enough.

"You think I give a fuck about you wanting to hang out with your sissy friends??? Huh?" He grunted, and then shouted, "*ANSWER ME*!!!" My sudden flinch was involuntary. Tears suddenly welled up in my eyes as my heart began to pound violently in my chest. A brainwashed response to his usual hostility. But I fought it back this time. Instead of waiting for him to move or begging him for permission, I actually put my hands up to push his arm down so that I could pass him. "Where do you think you're going???"

"Get out of my way!" I mumbled under my breath.

"What the fuck...???" He suddenly grabbed a hold of my shirt and slammed my back against the wall so hard that it nearly knocked the wind out of me. "Who do you think you are? HUH??? Fucking little pretty boy faggot!!! This is MY house! You hear me? When I tell you to come home, you'd better fucking haul your ass and get home! I don't give a shit WHAT you think you want to do with your faggot friends after school! Your life, your time...it belongs to ME! You hear me?" He shouted, practically spitting in my face the whole time. But I didn't answer him. And I didn't look away either. I stared at him the same way that he was staring at me. "Who do you belong to? Say it!" I refused to utter a single word. I just kept looking him in the eye, even as heated tears began to run down my cheeks. "SAY IT!!!" He demanded, slamming my back against the wall again. But I didn't do it. I wouldn't. Who do I belong to? Only Brody has the right to ask me that question.

I suddenly felt an extremely hard slap connect with the side of my head, and my vision nearly went white from the impact of it. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" I shouted. But he only hit me again, and then again...and after the third time, my arms just reached out and I pushed him off of me as hard as I possibly could, now pressing his back up against the opposite wall of the hallway.

He seemed really surprised at first, and to be honest, I think I had even surprised myself. But once he grabbed a hold of my hair, my entire body entered an entirely different level of survival mode that I hadn't really experienced before now. I actually balled up my fist and I swung on my own father as hard and as fast as I possibly could, punching him multiple times in the fucking face and doing all I could to finally fight back as best as I could. He's always been so much bigger than me. Older than me. STRONGER than me! But none of that mattered in that moment. If he was going to kill me, I was going to go down fighting for my life, just like the angry soldier he raised me to be!

I felt him sucker punch me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me and dropping me to my knees immediately. But I held on to one of his legs, still swinging with all of the strength that I had left, even if I couldn't breathe. He kneed me in the face, and banged my head against the wall before picking me up and tossing me back into the kitchen. I was curled up on the floor, but I didn't want to stop. I couldn't. Not now. Not ever again. Even though I felt like I wanted to vomit from the knots tightening up in the center of my stomach, I wasn't going to surrender to him. I ALWAYS surrender to him!!!

My brain went right back to my sick mantra...

Knives in the drawer...

Screwdrivers in the pantry...

A hammer, a tire iron, a bottle of bleach in the basement next to the washing machine.

And as he kicked me in the side, I got up and ran right at him, digging my shoulder deep into him, and pushed him back against the stove with a primal scream that caused my voice to crack and my throat to burn...but I just kept at it. And I hit him! I hit him! I hit him! I HIT HIM!!! And he tried to choke me, lifting my little teenage body up onto the kitchen counter and knocking my head against the cabinets. But my hands were reaching for whatever they could to hit him with. Son of a bitch! I'm not the weak little boy that I used to be! I'm going to make you WORK to take me down this time!

I grabbed a dirty dinner plate by the sink and I smashed it over his head. And then I held on to a piece of the broken dish to cut him on his arm and on the side of his neck. "FUCK YOU!!!"

"You little SHIT!!!" He shouted, and knocked the broken plate out of my hand. Then...despite him being so 'careful' with how he bruised me in the past...he suddenly punched me right in the fucking face with his knuckles slamming into my left eye so hard that my body went limp, with me crying out loud in pain and nearly blinded from the force of it. Already, I could feel the bruise swelling up...and no amount of tears would be able to heal it up.

But still...I kept fighting. I could barely see, and I was standing on wobbly legs, but this so called 'pretty boy' was going to finally give my father the fight he had been looking for all along. He wanted to make a monster out of me. Well...the monster is here now. DEAL with it, you heartless bastard!

I swung at him with whatever strength I had left in me, and he mercilessly punched me in the face, closed fist, again...knocking me backwards and dropping me to the floor. I felt a gush of warm liquid cascade down over my lips and drip off of my chin. At first, I thought it might be mucous or something, but there was soooo much of it. And when I looked at my shirt, and rubbed my hand over my face, I saw more blood running out of me than I had ever witnessed before. My whole face was numb with the pain of it all, and I couldn't breathe without this gurgling sound nearly choking me as the acidic taste of my own blood ran down the back of my throat. My father began to kick and beat me while I was down, so I had to fight and use the counter behind me to keep my balance as I rose up to my feet again. We're not finished yet, you asshole...

I punched and kicked at him until he was forced to take a few steps back away from me to protect himself. And that's when my sight, although pretty blurry, came back to me...and I started throwing everything that I could at him. The muscles in my arms were so sore from the struggle, but I pushed them past their limits as I threw dishes, pots, pans, cans that I found in the cabinet...whatever I had in reach. And one of the cans of corn flew right over his shoulder, shattering the window with a loud crash as it rolled out onto our back porch.

That vindictive savage and I were shouting as loud as we possibly could at one another, and I knew that there was no other way out of this than having one of us fucking DIE tonight! I can't take anymore! I tied to be everything that he wanted me to be. I tried to be strong. I tried to have a sense of grace and merit. I've cleaned this house up from top to bottom without complaint! I make his meals! I take out the trash! I do all I can to make good grades at school! But he's NEVER going to be fucking satisfied! I don't even think he knows HOW to be happy with anything at this point! And I'm so....I'm so exhausted. I can't live like this anymore. I can't be his punching bag whenever he suddenly feels like he wants to hurt somebody. Because he HATES me! He's always going to feel like he wants to hurt somebody! And I just can't let that be my problem anymore.

I'm so tired.

So very tired.

I'll keep fighting if he comes anywhere near me, but...honestly...it was so hard to breathe at that moment. My limbs were so weak. My eye was so swollen and purple. And all I could think was...'He's going to kill me. Isn't he?'

I think that made me cry harder than anything. But not for my own life. More for the fact that I knew I might never see Brody again. Share another one of those sweet kisses, or play fight with him in a random toy store. Ride behind him on his bike in the rain...or go making silly wishes on lightning bolts in the sky. I knew it would hurt Adam that he wasn't able to save me. Or Sam who wasn't able to run up and jump on my back on the way to school ever again. Or cheerfully gab about another pizza day at school. I was never going to have my mom sneak up behind me while I was dancing in my room to a Stevie Wonder song, or have her hold me in her arms again to kiss me goodnight. It was a heavy sacrifice, but it was one that I felt I had to make. I'm not going to let him take this joy away from me. He didn't earn it. I did. I was making my stand...right here, and right now. And if I didn't come out of this alive...that means I was going to have to say goodbye to all of that. And all of that was going to have to say goodbye...to me...

My father was staring daggers in my direction, but I didn't give a fuck anymore. I just don't have it in me to care anymore. He took a few steps forward, and I turned around to the kitchen drawer to grab a hold of the biggest butcher knife that I could find. The one I always used to cut up chicken for his fucking dinner, night after night. Oh yes...I knew that kitchen much better than he ever could. I held onto the handle with both hands, pointing it right at his chest. Both of us were breathing heavily, my face fully covered in tears and blood...and it was almost like he was daring me to go for it! He was practically taunting me with it.

"What the fuck do you think you're gonna do with that?" He said. "You're nothing, Zack. LESS than nothing. You think that scares me? You're the biggest pussy on the planet. You look silly trying to draw a knife on me." I know that he was trying to get me to rush at him or something so he could take it away from me. But I didn't. I know he was trying to break me down and cause me to be too afraid to act against him. But I wasn't. Even through my tears, I kept my eyes focused on his...and he knew, at long last, that he had now crossed a line that could never be redrawn in the sand when it came to hurting me.

I could see it in his face. I could feel it in the tension surrounding us.

And it was at that moment that I had this waking realization of who and what he really was. I can't describe what it was or how it happened...but at that very moment, with me holding that knife in my hands...my hands trembling, my arms weak...I saw my father for who he really was. And it was pathetic. Worthless. He was everything that he wanted me to believe that I was...and worse. Insecure. Impotent. Someone who found themselves so loathsome, so unworthy of love or affection, that he has to bring everybody else down into his pit of misery to feel as though he has any self worth at all. It was...kind of sad.

I looked into his eyes...and you know what I saw? I saw...me.

I saw all of the time that I wasted, and all of the damage I had done to my own psyche over the years. I saw where I would be heading in the future...if it weren't for the companionship of my very best fiends, and...Brody's love.

That's what this has been about this whole time...isn't it? He doesn't hate me for being me. He hates me for not being him. It hurts and angers him that I have a chance to be happy in a world that rejected him a long time ago. He hurts me because he doesn't feel that anyone deserves to not feel the pain that he's feeling. My happiness is the literal bane of his existence...and he simply can't handle that. God, he's so weak. And so was I before this very moment. The difference being...

...I finally found a way to get rid of the 'mask'. That stupid artificial mask that I crafted and wasted so much energy on, trying to appear normal to other people while avoiding the fact that I wasn't taking the time to love myself. Or even look for reasons as to why I should.

I 'see' you, Dad. For the first time in my life...I actually see you. Your mask has cracked wide open. And you're so far beneath me as a human being, that I'm actually ashamed that I was ever scared of you to begin with.

I didn't hear the police sirens in the distance, but I did notice the flashing red and blue lights as they flickered outside of the shattered window by the back door. There were already heavy footsteps charging up the stairs before my father had a chance to really react. He gave me a stern look. One of those looks that he always used to intimidate me when it came to telling anybody else about what was going on in this house. But that look was so powerless now. At least in my eyes. I'll never quake and shiver in front of you again, you piece of shit. Never again.

"Chicago Police Department! Open up!" Came the voices from outside. A few more loud knocks, and my father began to tremble, still trying to maintain control over a situation that he simply didn't have a handle on anymore. He didn't move, and neither did I. I just held that knife out, letting him know that he could get it stabbed right through his fucking heart if he dared to come anywhere near me. So he remained still...and soon the police used a few harsh kicks and some kind of handheld battering ram to burst through the back door...where they found me and my father standing on either side of that kitchen...me bleeding and crying and holding a knife to protect myself...and him...slowly raising his hands in the air to not put up a fight.

He protested a bit at first, but somebody had obviously called the cops and let them know what was happening here, so I saw them slam him down on the kitchen floor and handcuff him behind his back before dragging him back up to his feet and taking him outside. One of the officers began to approach me slowly, both of his hands open to let me know that he wasn't holding a weapon of any kind. I didn't even realize that I was still holding the knife...my hands shaking violently as he approached. "It's ok, son. We're here to help. Alright? Let's...let's set this down somewhere, ok?" He said. I almost didn't want to let it go. My adrenaline filled survivor mode was still amped up to a full ten...but when he gently place his hand on my wrist...I let it drop down to the floor, and I began balling my eyes out as he hugged me close. "It's ok, kid. We got him. Ok? We got him."

As I walked back out into the rain, sheltered by the roof of the back porch with the officer putting a blanket around my shoulders, I looked across the alley to see Mr. Schultz talking to some of the other police men. I guess he was the one who called after the back window got shattered and he heard all of the yelling and conflict coming from inside. He saw me being escorted out of the house...and gave me a nod. I returned with a thank you...giving him a nod in return. I saw Adam and his mom also standing outside, their faces illuminated by the flashing police car lights. And Mrs. Kwai from down the block. Everybody was watching me. And they were watching my dad as he was shoved into the back of a squad car. And I felt myself getting dizzy.

I was so exposed at that moment. I know that I should be feeling a sense of relief or something...but the truth is...I felt more anxiety and paranoia than ever before. I felt like everybody could see through my mask too for the first time. And it hurt. I don't know if you can understand how mortifying it is to be on display for something like this shameful horror of events...but it truly does something to you. On the inside. It breaks a part of you in half...and it leaves you wondering if you'll ever be able to fix it again.

I thought about my father being taken to jail, and my eye being so black and bruised, my nose still bleeding...my neighbors, my friends...Brody...

What kind of madness is my MOM going to come home to tonight? What am I going to tell her? She's going to be so angry with me when she finds out that I didn't say anything sooner. So guilty about not being able to protect me, even though she was working hard to make sure that I'd have a better life. I don't know if I'll be able to look her in the eye. I really don't.

Everything just began to overwhelm me to the point where I nearly passed out, and the policemen had to hold me up and call for someone to take me to the hospital for an evaluation. And...well...that was that. At least for the night.

While under observation in the hospital, I did eventually have to tell my mom about what happened. I actually thought that I was softening the blow by holding back on a bunch of the details. I mean, there was no way that I could EVER tell her the full story of what really happened, day after day, year after year, while she wasn't there. I couldn't break her heart like that. Trust me...if she knew it all, she wouldn't be able to handle it. I doubt anybody could. It's best to just leave certain things unsaid...you know? Still...she cried sooooo much. She held me tight and stayed right by my side for an entire week without budging. I felt bad for making her take time off of work, and for making her suffer like this. My mom is awesome. She deserves to be happy. That's all I ever wanted for her. Not the daily chore of feeling sorry for a piece of garbage like me.

Wait...sorry. I should stop thinking of myself that way. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I had to give a detailed statement on my father's abuse. I think that was the hardest part. It took a lot of tears and a few boxes worth of tissues...but the more I allowed myself to say, the more the suffocating weight of it all seemed to be lifted from my shoulders. I just...I didn't even realize how much I was holding back until I started letting it all come out. It was a release. An orgasm for my soul.

Eventually, I was all checked out and knew that I'd be able to go home again in a day or two. Heh...fancy that. I finally duked it out with my old man, and he wasn't as much of deadly 'threat' as I thought he'd be. Had I been eighteen, I probably would have put him in this hospital bed instead of me. It's kind of funny when you think about it. What a punk.

Brody came to see me, and had to fight back tears the whole time when he saw my eye. But it'll heal in time. And luckily my dad didn't break my nose when he punched me. So that wasn't even an issue. Still, as ugly as I looked at that moment...Brody hugged me close and kissed me on the cheek as if there was nothing wrong with me at all. It's so easy to get swept up in his love all over again.

"You look like a total badass right now, you know that?" He said.

"Hehehe! Really? Is it the hospital bed and gown that opens in the back? Or is it the black eye?" I joked.

"Both, actually." He smiled.

"I'm so ugly right now..."

"Dude, stop that. I told you...you're not ugly. You've never been ugly." He smiled, lightly running his fingers through my hair. "That is a massive shiner you've got going there, though. Hehehe!"

"Well....you should see the other guy."

"Yeah? Do you kick his ass?" Brody asked with a grin.

"Ummm...no. Not hardly. But I'm pretty sure that I made him question his anger management issues." I chuckled.

Brody said, "Whatever. We'll see how he handles his anger management issues in jail with people who are more than willing to put his stupid ass in check." He then gave me a concerned look, and he said, "Zack...I'm so sorry that I didn't...that we didn't..."

"No!" I interrupted him. "None of this was your fault. Ok? And it wasn't mine either. I totally understand that now. I just...I needed you to teach me something about myself that I didn't know before."

A bit confused, Brody asked, "What was that?"

"That...being able to function without totally hating myself...isn't the same as loving myself." I said. "That wishes can come true. And that it's nearly impossible to love somebody else...when you don't feel worthy of it."

Brody smiled, and took a hold of my hand as he bent down to give me a sweet kiss on the lips. His shaky voice saying, "Cool..." As he sniffled and tried to fight back the tears in his eyes.

"Brody? You know...there's nothing that I would love more than to tell you that...all of 'this' was over and done with. That I could just move on from here and everything will be ok. But I don't want to lie to you." I told him. "I still don't feel ok. I....I don't know if I'll ever feel ok."

A tear rolled down Brody's cheek and he said, "You're still a perfect beauty to me, Zack. Promise. We've got all the time in the world."

"Cool..." I said, with a sniffle of my own. "I just want you to know who I am. You know, before make the big mistake of taking on the burden of being my boyfriend. You know what your mom said...about 'broken people'. I definitely fall into that category."

"No problem. I'll take it." He grinned. "I know eactly who you are. And I love you...'Aiden', hehehe!"

"UGH!!! Don't call me by my middle name! I hate it!" I cringed from the very mention of it.

"Come on! I think it's CUTE! What's your beef with the name 'Aiden' anyway?"

"It's..." I paused for a second, looking away from him before realizing that I might as well go for broke. "It's my dad's middle name. It's one of the few things that he ever gave me that won't ever go away. You know? I guess I'm just being stupid, but..."

"No. No way. I get it. I'm sorry." Brody said. "Honestly. I won't say it ever again."

But after a brief pause, I smiled at him. "It's alright. Honestly? It sounds kinda cute when you say it. Maybe I'll learn to like it a bit more. You know...so I can own it." That caused Brody to lean in and kiss me again, just as there was a knock at the door. That's when I saw Adam walk in to come and check up on me as well.

"You guys partying without me? What's that about?" He said, and moved over to give me a tight hug. "When are they gonna let you bounce out of here, Zack?"

"Another day or two at the most. They're looking for any bone fractures around my eye or in my nose. But I feel fine." I said.

"Well, you look like a total badass right now." Adam said.

And Brody was like, "RIGHT??? That's what I said!"

"You two...seriously..." I groaned.

Adam said, "I was going to come with Sam, but you know...his parents don't want anything to do with this...ummm...kinda thing. So...you know what that means."

"That Sam is gonna sneak out of the house, dive in the bushes, and probably ditch school to come and see me anyway?" I said.

"Obviously." He replied, and we all shared a few giggles over it.

"Thanks, guys. It means a lo to have you here with me right now. You have no idea." I said, and both Brody and Adam moved in to give me a hug.

A few days later, I was able to come home. My mom hugs and kisses me more than what I would consider comfortable for a teenage boy, hehehe...but I try not to fight her off too much. After all, a few kisses from Mommy feel good every now and then. I doubt I'll ever outgrow that.

She let me stay home for about a week, and Brody, Sam, and Adam, all came over on a daily basis to keep me company. We even had a sleepover on Saturday where we all played video games until we were too tired to stay awake any longer. And my father wasn't even an issue. I'm sure they were all curious, but they didn't bring it up. At least not when I was around. Chances are, his court case and all wasn't going to come up for months, and with my testimony alone, he was sure to do some hard time in prison. He won't be locked up forever. Probably not even for as long as the pain and the suffering that he put me through. But for now...he's out of my life. He's out of my mom's life. And maybe we can begin to heal ourselves without him constantly re-opening the wounds that he created for the both of us. Only time will tell, right?

At long last...I had to go back to school.

The whispers were deafening. Honestly. Nothing spreads faster than high school gossip. I just had to keep my head down and try not to let my paranoia get the best of me. Even with a slight discoloration of my black eye still lingering as I navigated my way from class to class. Ugh! So embarrassing!

But then...as I was waiting for the bell in my English class...something really odd happened.

The bell rang, and all of the students got up to gather their stuff and walk out. Me included, of course. But Mr Raffe called out to me before I could leave. "Zack? Stick around for a moment, will you? I want to talk to you."

Immediately, I felt my heart sink down into my stomach. I was already walking around with a black eye and an entire rumor society talking behind my back. The last thing that I needed was another flurry of insults and criticisms from Mr. Raffe. But...he's a teacher. What am I going to do? Say no? I don't think that's an option.

"Yes?" I said meekly as I approached his desk.

He reached into his drawer and pulled out the story that I had written for the last assignment, holding it in a way where I couldn't see any of the type on it. "I want to talk to you about the last story you wrote and handed in for you finished project." He said.

I looked down at my shoes, sighing out loud and preparing myself for the usual storm of highly emotional unfair criticism that I was so used to getting from him. He hated it, didn't he? He hates everything that I write. It's like he has some sort of stupid vendetta against me, where he feels the need to nitpick and totally destroy every emotion that I put out there for other people to see. Does he have any idea how HARD it was for me to write that? To expose myself to someone who will probably never understand what I've been through?

I didn't want to hear it. I really didn't. I wrote my own story, with my own voice...and I did it my way. If he doesn't like it, the he can just fuck off. I'm done trying to play the court jester for people who just don't seem to care!

I told him, "I know it's different, ok? I just...it's whatever. I'll do better next time. I don't want my grades to drop, but I wanted to write this particular story in a way that felt...you know...real."

Mr. Raffe gave me a look, and he asked, "What grade do you think I gave you on this story, Zack? Be honest."

I shrugged. "I don't know. A 'C'...maybe a 'C+'...if I'm lucky."

He hesitated for a moment, and then handed me the papers for me to look at fo myself.

I actually rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand because I thought that I wasn't reading it right. It took me a second or two to focus, and...right there...in red ink...was my grade.

A+

I was so confused. I furrowed my brow for a moment, and I said, "I don't...I don't understand."

Mr. Raffe sat forward in his chair, and he said, "THIS is it. THIS is exactly what I've been looking for when it comes to your writing, Zack. This story right here? It's phenomenal."

"It...it is?" I mumbled. Looking down at the A+ grade on the paper again.

"Zack...from the very start of this semester, I saw greatness in you. You have a talent and a passion that can't be faked. Not by anybody. A one of a kind artist that I always felt could carry you to places that most people will never ever go. And that includes me." He said. "But you always hold back. You pander to your teachers and to your audience and focus on what they want to hear as opposed to what you want to say. And what you want to say...I think it's amazing." I felt a lump growing in the back of my throat, but Mr. Raffe has been my number one enemy for so long that I refused to let the emotion show. "This is you, Zack. I can 'feel' you in this story. And if you keep writing literature of this caliber in the future, then I'll know that I've done my job. And I'll proudly applaud everything that you have to offer from this point on." He stood up and put his hand on my shoulder as I began to breathe hard and accidentally let a few tears roll down my cheeks as I tried to even process all of this. "In twenty two years of teaching...I can't say that I've ever read anything more engaging, and more emotional, from any of my students...than I did in this project of yours. This is where you need to be, Zack. Stop holding back. You are capable of such wonders. Write it down. And be the writer that I know you were meant to be."

"Th-th-thank you...Mr. Raffe..." I sniffled.

"You always had the talent kid. I was just trying to bring it out of you. And I can say, without a doubt...that you truly impressed me. You're one hell of a writer."

Crying a bit more heavily now, I held the papers up against my chest, and I sobbed..."I thought I'd be lucky to get away with a 'C' on this story..."

And as I sniffled and wiped my eyes, Mr. Raffe said, "Just a 'C', huh? Heh, you did much better than that. But who knows? Maybe you can take the 'C' and make it mean something when you're older. Use it as a pen name on the internet or something. Make it a symbol. Something you can be proud of." He sat back down and started gathering up his stuff too. I guess to go home for the day. "Make it count, Zack. You've got a voice now. Don't take it for granted."

When I left his classroom, I started panting as though I was having a panic attack of some sort. I felt disoriented and confused. I had to hurry into a nearby boy's bathroom to collect myself. I kept looking at the printed out papers in my arms. My whole life...my pain...my suffering...and it had Mr. Raffe's A+ grade on it. I almost couldn't handle the emotional weight of it. I had to hold on to the sink to keep myself standing. And when I looked in the mirror...I felt like I was actually seeing 'me' for the first time.

I...I won. I beat him. His voice is still in the back of my mind but...I figured out his trick now.

I'm worthy. I'm sane. And I am loved.

So loved.

I never thought I'd be standing here...looking at my own reflection...and be satisfied with what I saw looking back at me. It's...beautiful. Dear God...it's so beautiful.

I think I missed half of my next class just crying alone in that bathroom, but it freed up so much energy for me to go on with the rest of my day. It really did.

When the final bell rang, Sam and Adam and Brody all came to meet me at my locker and we all walked outside to go home for the day. But when they saw my mom's car waiting for me, Adam gave me a wink, and said, "You guys go on ahead. We'll be fine."

Sam said, "Wait! I wanna ride home too! I call shotgun!" But Adam elbowed him roughly in the side. "Owwww!"

"Really, dude? C'mon, Sam!" Adam said, and they stayed behind while Brody and I held hands on our way to the car.

My mom's been a little over protective lately, but a free ride home isn't something that I'm going to complain about. I hopped in the front passenger seat while Brody hopped in the back. "Mom...I want you to meet Brody." I said.

She grinned, and said, "I know who Brody is! Don't be goofy!"

But...I reached back to retake a hold of Brody's hand, and I pulled it to my lips to give it a gentle kiss. Hehehe, I think Brody was a bit shocked at first, displaying that cute blush of his that I loved so much. And, as always...I found it extremely contagious, adopting a blush of my own. "No, Mom...like...I want you to really meet Brody..." I didn't say much else, but I think she got the message from the way her eyes widened. Followed by one of the biggest smiles I've ever seen decorate her face.

"My oh my!" She said. "Pleased to meet you, Brody! For the first time...again." Causing us all to giggle before she put the car in gear and started to drive away, with Sam and Adam waving at us from the school steps. The radio was playing Stevie Wonder's 'For Once In My Life' again, and my mom turned up the volume. "LOVE this song! Zack does too! You should see him dance!"

"MOM!!!" Ugh...can parents be any MORE embarrassing?

"I would love to see Zack dance to this song! That's definitely a viral candidate for Tiktok! Hehehe!" Brody said, leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"Get out of here! Go away!" I said, but I couldn't have been any happier. This is life. Life without pain. Life without him. And as I felt the sun shining down on my face through the car window, with my loving mother, and my first and forever boyfriend...I finally felt at peace.

I have a whole life ahead of me. A future. And even after being trapped for so very long...I found my escape. My only escape. And I'm never going to take this freedom for granted ever again.

Why should I?

 

 


 

Copyright © 2010 Comicality; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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That is an incredible article and it took a lot of guts to write that and My Only Escape.

Your goal for writing that story has been achieved many ,many times over

 

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I want to thank you for a very well written story. All through this reading there were times that I could visit myself in my own life. Many times I cried as I was reading it because I went through some of the similar things. Thank God not always as bad as what you had it but it was still very hard to go through. I thank you for helping me to relieve some of the weight that I have. I pray that no other child should have to go through this, even though I know it happens continually.

again thank you and I wish you the world.

frostyvb

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Well that was one hell of a roller coaster of a chapter. I love the ending but it’s super sad seeing one of the first stories I read from you ending. Thank god I don’t see On the Outside ending soon it’s my favorite one. seeing Zack’s journey through this story just always resonated with me and for some reason even though it’s a fictional character it made me feel like I wasn’t alone in my struggle.
 

Thanks for the story Com it really helped me a lot growing up I’m so grateful for this and a lot of other stories you put up. Much love ❤️ 

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To my minds eye, you succeeded in making Mr. Raffe look as if it was simply a grade on the quality of the work and not because of what happened. Afterall, what happened after the paper was submitted, had not yet happened, and we can presume the paper was already graded by then. In my mind, it could have ended something like this:

***

And as I sniffled and wiped my eyes, Mr. Raffe said, "Just a 'C', huh? Heh, you did much better than that. But who knows? Maybe you can take the 'C' and make it mean something when you're older. Use it as a pen name on the internet or something. Make it a symbol. Something you can be proud of." He sat back down and started gathering up his stuff too. I guess to go home for the day. "Make it count, Zack. You've got a voice now. Don't take it for granted.

"Of course, there's always an ending to this story, for good or ill. Another paper, another teacher, should you ever want to write it." Mr. Raffe then turned back to other papers on his desk.

...

I think I missed half of my next class, as the implications of Mr. Raffe's last words to me meant, just crying alone in that bathroom, but it freed up so much energy for me to go on with the rest of my day. It really did.

***
Or, something similar. It wouldn't necessarily strike Zack at the moment it was said. He was too thrilled he had gotten over on Mr. Raffe, as to recognize the insinuation.

Just a few random thoughts!

Al.

Edited by Ordu378
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@ComicalityThis was a wonderfully written book. I have never been abused. But the way you wrote the book it was like every kick slap punch and every insult was happening to me. I am so glad you made it. and Thank-you for sharing your true story of your childhood. if there was a better grade than A+ I would say your story would deserve it. I would say if you sent it in you would win National book award for nonfiction.

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