Setting Sun

15 | Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor | 15

{Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor: Latin for "Where there's love, there's pain"}

TW!!!- talk about self hatred, reference to physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, thoughts about su!cide, violence, blood, and homophobia

If I missed any let me know, if any of things are triggering to you, skip to the end where there will be a brief, non descriptive, recap of the chapter.

***

George's pounding headache woke him, his head throbbed and he was freezing. He tried to move, but was restrained by tight ropes binding his hands together behind his back. He looked around frantically, discovering that he was in the basement of some kind of abandoned warehouse. That was when he remembered the man, which sent him into a panic. Someone kidnapped him, but it couldn't have been his mom because his mom wasn't a man. He searched the content in the basement, trying to find hints that showed who it was.

"Georgie, you're awake," a soft voice said from the corner. Despite the sweetness that accompanied it, George knew that voice, and it was the most menacing one he'd ever heard. It belonged to his mother.

He didn't say anything as she stood, walking over to him. He cringed away from her as she reached out her hand to stroke his face. He glared at her, the woman whom he hated more than anything else, who had caused him so much pain and continued to do so.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry for everything," she said, squatting down so she was eye level with him. When George still didn't say anything, she continued, "And I wish we could do this under different circumstances, but I knew you would never listen to me or even be in the same room with me otherwise."

"I wonder why that is," George said harshly, spitting the words out like daggers.

"Your voice! It's gotten so deep! You've grown so much, darling," she said, caressing his hair. He clenched his jaw, leaning away.

"What are you planning to do, then? Kill me?"

"Oh dear heavens, no. I would never hurt you sweetie." George scoffed, and she sighed, saying, "At least not in the way you're implying. Keep that in mind as we progress through this, I myself will never hurt you like that, but I promise that this is necessary to help you. I'm done grilling you for your sickness, I'm going to assist you in relieving yourself of it."

"Sickness?" George muttered, fear swelling in his chest. He tried to smother it but couldn't, he remembered talks like this from years ago. Obviously, the talks hadn't changed anything, just made George hate himself more for not being able to control his thoughts.

A man came up behind his mom, the same man from the night before, the man who took him. After taking a closer look, George recognized him. It was Wilbur's dad. So he didn't lie to me, George thought, He really was looking out for me, and I ignored him. And now I'm screwed.

"Again, please understand that this is for your benefit, Georgie," his mom said before backing up, allowing the man to come closer.

"Mom, what are you doing?" George whimpered. He was terrified. She didn't answer, Wilbur's dad taking back his arm. "Mom!" He swung forward, hitting George right smack in the face. Everything went black.

* * *

"Hello? I'm here for the interview?"

"What?" George said, looking up at the brown haired boy who stood in front of him. "Oh, yeah sorry, they're waiting for you in the back." The boy hesitated, not removing his eyes from George's. George saw something there, an old look, though he was young, probably around George's age. He looked like he'd seen some things that he shouldn't have had to for being that young.