Lost - (Sal x Travis)

Chapter 1 - Travis's POV

I'd honestly never have expected to find myself here. Sat before one of the ministers at my church, confessing my sins. What was I meant to confess? I'm the preacher's son, which is basically Jesus if you think about it. None the less, it was mandatory, so I began searching my memory for any minor sins i'd committed recently. I knew exactly what to say. I knew it was wrong. Those thoughts I've been having recently, I should own up now.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned. I am here today to come forth with my wrongdoings and rid my self of guilty conscience. Here are my sins-" I paused. I was hesitant to continue. "Disobeying my father, and uh.."
"Is that all?" He replied.
"Uh.. yes. That's all." I lied. Shit. What do I do now?

 Maybe I don't have to tell anybody. It's not like they'll find out anyways, and not  confessing technically isn't lying. I'm sure those thoughts will pass eventually. It's the devil's doing, not mine, i'd never let such disgusting ideas roam my mind. I've obviously been possessed.

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The journey back from church was hell. Mother and father arguing back and forth the entire way home. Their voices grew so loud, ringing inside my head. I began biting my nails to distract myself. Their rowdy bicker was overwhelming, I just wanted to jump out of this van and run as far as my legs would take me. Yes, this moving van. Whether that meant it'd kill me or not

As we came to a red light, I began counting the cars and streetlamps when something caught my eye. Something blue and vivid. It stood out from the melancholy theme of Nockfell. Oh, it was just Sal and his weird friend Larry. I watched as the two took a turn, leaving my sight. Hah. It's shameful, honestly. I'm disgusted to even think of myself as Sal Fisher's classmate. I shouldn't have to associate myself with such vile beings. Him and his homosexual friends should take themselves somewhere else. Somewhere they're actually wanted. Which, by the way, would be nowhere.

Sal is the gayest it gets. I mean, his hair is an unnatural gay color. Not to mention it's tied up in pigtails. That's for girls. He hangs around all the typical gays you'd find. Well, I guess they're not all much different from each other. They're all sinners, and that's what matters in the end. I should be praying for him, praying the gay away from his body. I've always thought conversion therapy was a bit harsh, but when it comes to Sal and his friends, it's definitely an option they should consider.

Why am I even thinking about Sal? That's gay. Thinking of other males is gay. No matter the context.
  
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Father finally turned into our driveway. The loud rumbling of the car engine finally quietened. I stepped out of the car, gently closing the door, as not to damage it. I could feel father's eyes peering at me. I was nervous, what did he want now? Mother went in first, leaving me alone with my dad. I was half-expecting him to shut the door and scold me outside, in front of our entire street, but no, he has some decency at least. He took me by the rim of my sweater and dragged me inside. He slammed the door behind us violently, it scared me a little. 

He planted an unexpected slap right across my face. I was suddenly feeling very light-headed. He cornered me into the back of our kitchen. My hands were trembling. Although I've already endured this a hundred times, I never get used to it. 

"I will not have a fag for a son, you hear me?" He snarled. I was taken by surprise. What did he mean 'fag for a son'? I'm the straightest man alive. I didn't understand what i'd done to make him think otherwise.
"I don't understand what you mean." 
"Don't think I can't tell when you're lying." He yelled, followed by a hard punch to my stomach. Right where he'd previously hit me yesterday. It stung, real bad. I brushed it off, I didn't want to seem weak in front of my father.
"I'm not gay. I like women. Fags disgust me." Something about that felt... wrong?
"Good." He let out a slight smirk before vanishing from the room.

What the fuck was that about? A fag? Me? Must be this stupid fucking shirt. What was I thinking, to wear purple. That's a girls colour. Once again, I believe I was possessed to wear this. Because it's a gay shirt and i'd never pick this out, obviously.

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I wandered through my drawers, looking for pajamas. It was dark outside, which means it's time for bed. I decided to put on a pair of blue PJs. Hah, blue. A very masculine and not gay colour. Which is fitting. Because i'm not gay.

I crawled into my bed and set my alarm before tucking myself in. Can't forget my nightly prayers! What kind of a christian would I be without praying before bed? All the things i'm grateful for... hm. Wait, what am I grateful for? Other than the basics, a roof, food, clothes. What am I grateful for? I'm sure as fuck not grateful for this stupid family. I shouldn't say that, I am actually quite grateful for my mother. Although she's too shy to stand up for me against my dad, she's always been very supportive. But I want to be grateful for something real, something meaningful. Not saying my mother isn't an important thing to be grateful for! I guess I don't deserve anything good in my life. I don't deserve to have something - or someone - to love and appreciate. All I am is a worthless idiot. I rested my eyes and let my consciousness fade away, it was morning in no time.