(Skephalo) Forgive me father for I have sinned

my daddy put a gun to my head

//Trigger warning//

11/7/1993
Sunday
Sebring, Florida

POV: Third person

The two skipped happily along the pavement, the only light guiding their way being the big beautiful moon shining down upon the two lovers as they giddily made their way to their destination. Once on arrival, the two stopped. The looked over at eachother and smiled, "Tonight was nice, although I have to say that the stars have no ounce beauty compared to you." The young boy giggled and soon was accompanied by the shorter boy.

They leaned in after their giggling calmed down and shared a passionate kiss, completely forgetting all their worries and problems in the presence of each other. After a while they pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss.
"See you tomorrow at school."
"You too, Svedka!"

The taller of the two walked down the opposite way they just traveled and the one remaining hoped into his house. He made sure to be as quiet as a mouse while he opened the door and planned on sneaking through the house, hoping not to wake his parents.

Once inside, he made careful steps but the lights flickered on which stopped the boy in his tracks. He looked around the room in a panicked state to see his father, leaning against one of the many long pews with a browning citori shotgun right next to him.

The two stared at each other, one of pure fury and the other scared half to death. The boy opened his mouth to say something but instead he was interrupted by the man in front of him picking up his gun and cocking it, aiming it straight at his sons head.

The teens eyes grew wide and watered, he shook in terror and tried hard to not let himself cry in attempt to not upset his father and further. "Now," the old man began, his southern accent drawing out his words, "I either shoot you or the cock sucker, your choice boy."

The poor young man just shook even more, holding himself now in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the barrel he was staring into and the bullet that might just end up in his head. "He- he's not- I'm not-"

"Micheal! I do not want you associating with those kind of people! If I catch you talking to him ever again I'm gonna make sure that's theres no one for you to talk to no more! You understand me boy!?" The father roared, rattling and swaying his gun around like it was just a pathetic little toy.

Tears rolled down Micheals face, he sobbed a little but bit down on his trembling lip to stop any more involuntary noises seeping out. He stepped forward a little, then not even three seconds later took two more steps, getting closer to the gun and making sure it was in his direction. "Shoot me, I don't want him to get hurt. I love him so much papa, please just shoot me please."

The small boy hang his head low, gripping onto his sides for dear life and full out sobbing at this point; no point in hiding it when you're just gonna die right?
He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for it, for the gun to go off and for the inevitable and endless torture down in hell to begin.

A loud bang erupted into the air and reverberated against the walls, causing them to shake a little. Micheal yelped, staying in place but instinctively moving his hands onto his hair to pull at it. For a moment everything went quiet, Micheal stayed in place for a while but realised that he was still crying and he could still feel the hard wood floor beneath his feet.

Micheal finally opened up his eyes to reveal a hole just in front of him, not too small not too big. Micheal looked up and saw his father taking very heavy, angry steps towards him.
Before Micheal could even comprehend what had happened nor what was happening, he had been pushed against the wall behind him.

His father gripped the small boys neck, completely ignoring the fact he could probably snap it if he squeezed any tighter. "I did not raise the son of the devil and I'm going to make sure of it."

That night Micheals screams could be heard blocks away from the old church, but no one gave a single care, they all knew the young rebellious teen had it coming and they slight like babies knowing he had got what he deserved in their eyes. It didn't matter how hard he screamed, how loud he cried, how much he begged for the pain to stop, no one cared;

not one bit.

Words: 789