Chapter 24

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Warning: Some offensive terms used throughout the chapter

The door hitting my wall startled me even more.

"What the fuck is going on here." My dad said, practically screaming at George and I. George had fallen while trying to get off of my lap and was now on the floor with frightened eyes glued to my dad. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked George, stepping into the room further.

"I'm George." He said back in a very quiet and hesitated voice.

"Well, George," My dad said, hovering over him now, "how about you get the fuck out of my house." The anger flared in his eyes as George fought back tears while looking up at him.

"I have to drive him home dad." I said back quietly. His gaze shifted to me, looking me dead in the eyes.

"No, little George here can walk. You're not going anywhere you little shit." My mom was now standing in the doorway, a look of worry on her face. My dad turned back to face George, "Get up and get out of my house." His voice was louder now, almost yelling.

He scrambled to get up, picking his phone up that had fallen out of his pocket and shuffling past my dad. My mother stopped him with a soft hand on his arm.

"Do you need a ride home honey? I'm so sorry about this." They both looked as though they might cry.

"No i'm ok, I'll just walk to Nick's. I'll be ok." He responded, forcing a small smile and practically running down the stairs and out the front door.

"Now Clay," My dad said, standing over me, "when were you going to tell me you were a faggot?" He gritted his teeth as he said the word, my heart dropping to my stomach.

"It wasn't what it looked like." I said softly, looking over to my mom in the doorway who was now crying.

He made me stand up from the edge of the bed by gripping the collar of my shirt. With his face inches from mine, pure anger in his eyes, it was the first time in a very long time that I felt scared of him.

"When were you going to tell me Clay?" He yelled, his hot breath hitting my face, making me scrunch my nose up. "What were you two doing if it wasn't what it looked like?"

I then started to cry. Tears streamed down my face as he held my collar with a tight fist. I never allowed myself to cry in front of my dad, but I couldn't control it. Small sobs escaped from my mouth as he smiled and my mom cried harder.

His grip moved from my collar to around my throat, making me gasp as he held tighter.

"You're so fucking weak." He whispered, throwing me to the floor. I stumbled to get up as he took my phone from off of my bed. He gripped the back of my shirt now, pushing me out of the room and down the stairs to the front door.

He let go of me as he stood on the driveway, my phone in hand. I was crying harder now, my vision becoming blurry.

"If you didn't already know, Kim," He yelled to my mother in the doorway, "your son is a faggot." And with that, he held my phone up and threw it against the pavement, smashing it into a thousand pieces. My mouth hung open, not knowing what to do.

"If I catch you with that boy ever again, you're dead. You hear me? Dead. You are not going anywhere except for school and back, understand?" He yelled. I said nothing in return, my eyes fixed onto my broken phone.

"I said do you understand?" He screamed for the whole neighborhood to hear.

"I understand." I choked out. I stood motionless as he got into his truck and drove away, leaving me and my mother alone.

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