Someday (Sal x Travis)

Not The Way a Boy Should Feel

TRIGGER WARNING! 

Physical and mental abuse, (underage!) alcohol drinking. 

Travis

Maybe I like Sal.

The thought surrounded my mind. I began to feel sick. 

I'm no faggot! What was I thinking trying to become friends with him? Father's right. I'm worthless.

"Travis?" Sal stared at me.

I shifted my gaze up to his eyes.

"Fuck off. I need to go." I stood up, pushing the chair out. 

I sped towards the door, opening it quickly and slamming it behind me. 

I could hear Sal yelling for me to come back, but my body was already on the sidewalk.

Fresh snow crunched below my feet, and also fell gracefully from the cloudy sky. My hair blew in the wind.

Oh, God, how I have sinned. I am such a worthless piece of shit! Crushing on a stupid boy with a stupid face. It's NOT the way a boy should feel.

A moment passed.

God damn it, Travis! Stop beating yourself over this shit. I hit myself on the head. Being a faggot is a sin, but it's just a  phase, right? I like girls.

Just as I reached the park, I plopped down under a tree and pulled out a notepad, and began writing. Writing usually helped me when I was in confusing situations such as this.

"I know we don't really know each other and you probably have your opinions of me. I thought maybe if I told you how I feel, things could be different. The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you. I'm crazy about you. I think you're amazing! But I know these feelings are wrong. It's not the way a boy should feel. Shame swallows me whole. My father would kill me but I can't live in his shadow forever I just...."

I heard footsteps, so I rushed up. I ran over to the trash can and stuffed the note in it before running off.

Sal

Travis stood up and slammed the door on me.

I stood there, questioning what had just happened, but then I began to call his name. 

No matter how much I called, he didn't come back, so I decided to search for him.

Maybe his concussion just fucked him up for a bit. I'll have to bring him home and help him.

I walked around the empty neighborhood with my hands in my pockets, calling out his name. Eventually, my throat got sore so I just stopped but kept looking.

I finally came to the park to give up my search, when I spotted a head of yellow hair. It had to be Travis. I began to speed up, but he was already gone. 

I sat down under a tree, lighting a cigarette and watching the snow fall down from the sky.

I wonder what I did?

I sat there for around 15 minutes before I got cold and decided to head home.  I stood up and brushed the snow off of my body, and I headed over to the trashcan to put my cigarette in the ashtray.

As I was putting my cigarette out, I noticed a letter in the trashcan, shoved inside. 

I picked it up out of pure curiosity and began reading.

"I know we don't really know each other and you probably have your opinions of me. I thought maybe if I told you how I feel, things could be different. The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you. I'm crazy about you. I think you're amazing! But I know these feelings are wrong. It's not the way a boy should feel. Shame swallows me whole. My father would kill me but I can't live in his shadow forever I just...."

The letter ended.

"I can't live in his shadow forever I just...." I flipped the paper over in search of more writing, but that was it.

I stood there in silence, staring at the letter when I realized something.

I saw Travis leaving right when I got there, he left near the trashcan, and the letter was at the top of the trash.

Could it be?

Travis

I reached my house, bracing myself for the upcoming beatings.

I opened the door to see Father sitting on the couch, chugging a bottle of beer. The entire living room and the kitchen were covered in alcohol bottles. Mother was sitting on the stairs, crying silently.

Father turned his head, and once he realized it was me, he stood up. He had a stern look on his face. He walked towards me

"Now, Travis. Where were you?" He said in a deep voice. I stood, looking down at my feet.

"Where were you? ANSWER ME, BOY! You said you would walk home last night." He spit.

"I-I'm sorry, Father. I was feeling sick and I-" 

SLAP!

"YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! You NEVER lie to your father." He pushed me down to the floor.

"Y-Yes, sir." I stuttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night.

I held an icepack to my eye, along with a warm compress all along my stomach. My body ached, and bruises were forming. 

I sat up from the couch, looking around. Bottles upon bottles surrounded me. I picked up a bottle, and I smiled a little bit, getting up from the couch.

I walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka.

Drowning out what's flooding in.