These gay thoughts would always haunt me
I prayed God would take it from me
It's hard for you when you're fighting
And nobody knows it when you're silentI wanna run away
Don't wanna lie, I don't want a life
Send me a gun
And I'll see the sun---------------------------------------------------------
TW: This part contains domestic violence and slurs/homophobia. Please make sure you feel safe to read this, it can be quite triggering. My DM's are open if you need someone to talk to.
You're are amazing, valid, and loved<3I walked home at 4 pm, feeling like shit (and looking like it according to Liam). Today was rough, not gonna lie. I felt like I lost my best friend and on top of it all, all my past traumas came rushing back.
Even though I hadn't known Liam for that long he was the first person I ever felt safe with. He had never judged me for my quirky looks or stupid remarks, and he could joke about my sexuality in a way that I felt accepted and loved.
It wasn't just the homophobia of this town I had to deal with. It was the self-hatred I had towards myself for being different than others in this place.
I always knew I was different. Mother knew it too. One day when I was very little she pulled me aside holding a present. Even at that age, I knew it was a special moment because it wasn't someone's birthday or a holiday. It was wrapped in a beautiful shiny silver paper - I remember because I kept that wrapping paper until it was too dull to see my reflection in it and there were cracks in it from me folding it up neatly every time I put it away carefully.
Inside was this beautiful doll with golden-brown hair in a flowy white gown. I was in awe. She told me it was her great-grandmother's and that they had a tradition of passing on this doll in the family. So I had to be very careful with it.
I spent hours combing the dolls' hair and reading her stories. Her name would be Eyla.She was my escape from all the stupid boys who would make fun of my longer hair - I secretly hoped my hair would become as long as Eyla's.
Everything in this town was dull, with dark colors and stereotypes. It was like the people here forgot to wake up every morning and kept hitting the snooze button instead of actually waking up. The world felt boring to me and I needed color in my life to survive. That's when I met my first real friend at six years old. She had blonde, shiny hair like Eyla, and told me all about her ballet classes. I wanted to go with her.I wanted to ask Father permission to go with her when I was about to go to bed. With Eyla clutched under my arm, I already knew he would be difficult about it somehow, but I wanted to go so bad.
*Flashback*
'F-Father?' He towered over me but she told me to just ask him so I should ask Father right?
'C-Can I go ballet with my friend?'
He didn't say anything but just crouched down and he looked mad. Why was Father mad? Did I do something wrong? I looked down at my shoes but his big hands grabbed my chin and pushed my face up to meet his eyes.
'Louis. Are you a girl?' His voice sounded so scary. I shouldn't have asked.
'Answer me!'
I wanted to make myself small but I couldn't because he was holding my face. It hurt.
'N-no...'
'Then why are you acting like a girl?'
'I- I don't know...' I wanted to cry but Father got mad when I cried so I bit my lip really hard.I looked at my bedroom door, maybe Mother would come in and she would hug me and everything would be alright.
'I should've known I was raising a faggot.' He was so close to my face and I felt drops of spit from his words on my face. He then looked at Eyla. I didn't understand. I didn't have boobies and my hair wasn't that long. Why was I a girl? What's a faggot?In a swift motion, he snagged Eyla away from me and looked her up and down. I just braided her hair so I was glad it didn't get tangled from how he was holding her. His big hands grabbed her head and body while he looked me in the eyes. My lips started to quiver, hoping he wouldn't hurt her.
*snap*One hand was holding her head and the other her body. I couldn't control my crying anymore and I felt my cheeks getting wet. Eyla was dead. He killed Eyla.
'Now let's do something about your hair.' He stood up and grabbed my arm. He was hurting me again and walking too fast. I couldn't keep up. He pushed me in front of the mirror and I saw that my face was red from all the crying.
'P- please, Father....' I started sobbing. He just kept looking at me in the mirror with an angry look on his face. I didn't understand why he was so angry. I thought I was a good boy today. My teacher told me. Was she lying?He grabbed something boxy and when he clicked a button it made a humming sound. Please don't hurt me again, I will be good, I promise, I thought.
He grabbed a full hand of my hair and he moved the thing over my head. All my hair started falling off. I stopped crying and with big eyes I looked at myself in the mirror. Father was smiling now.'There. Now you can stop acting like a crybaby and grow up.' He dusted off my head with his hands and the last of my brown hair fell to the ground.
'Now clean that up and go to sleep. Tomorrow you'll behave, right?'
I slowly nodded at him in the mirror, and then he walked out.Eyla was laying on the floor, broken and covered in my hair. With shaking hands, I carefully lifted her head and body, and my cheeks got wet again. I grabbed all the hair covering the bathroom floor and laid it in the bin, along with Eyla. When I positioned her head right, It looked like she was sleeping.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would be a good boy.-------------------------------------------------------
Okay so this was a short chapter, and I was planning on making it longer with more happening after the flashback. But honestly, this was so heartbreaking to write, I think this chapter deserves a breather. I hope I wrote it okay and that I didn't trigger people too much. It's important for the story to know where he comes from and it will explain the dynamic between him and his dad further on.
Talk to me if you need to!
XXX Isa
P.s. vote and comment?🥺
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ANON. || l.s.
Fanfiction[FINISHED] Louis is 18 and in his last year in high school. He suffers abuse at home but tries everything to avoid being tagged for his safety. Luckily he has his good friend Liam who supports him in everything and potential hot date Zayn. But then...