And They Were Roommates

|7|

November 2nd, Friday Afternoon
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Zoning out, he idly joined the line after throwing the rest of his food away. Normally he would eat it because he would be thankful to have food in the first place, but he couldn't stomach it. Too many thoughts went through his head, even as he walked, his body went on autopilot. Instead of reading the Bible or doing last week's homework assignment like he'd normally do, he sat alone in the corner thinking.

Travis couldn't stop thinking after being left in the Quiet Room, too many long, agonizing hours of pure silence was too much. It felt familiar, almost too close to home. He thought over everything he could remember, but the thing that he couldn't stop thinking about was one of the many things he tried to bury the most. The guilt he feels for hurting others, especially Sal Fisher.

Why was he doing this? What did he and his friends do to deserve it all?

Because they are a bunch of sickening homos, that's why. It's a sin. Faggots like them shouldn't be loved. Why did it matter if they got hurt anyways?

Was that really what he was thinking? Is that what he truly thought? Who's telling him the truth? Why did it all have to be so confusing?

Then it hit him.

Did it even matter what he thought in the first place?

Either way there was no escape from the guilt, the confusion, the pain and frustration. Even if he did want to admit that he felt bad or wanted help, none of it mattered. He would never change. There is no such chance for him. There was nothing he could do, he was stuck.

He grabbed his own arms, digging his nails into his skin. He wanted it all to make sense, he wanted a definitive answer. But even God couldn't answer him. No matter how many times he prayed.

"Travis stop that!" He jumped, looking at the tech who was yelling his name. The woman stared at him motioning to let go of himself. "You aren't a child, stop rocking like that. Do you want more time in the Quiet Room?"

"No." He barely mumbled out, his throat felt like it was tightening. He wasn't about to cry, he wouldn't let himself be so weak. Travis wasn't weak and pathetic like some people he knew. There he went again, there really was no changing him.

"Visiting time, I need Larry, Jason, Stephanie, Kylie, and Travis to come down with me."

Travis was shocked to hear his name being called, almost thinking he was hearing things but Dr. Brown told him to hurry up. Joining the rest in line he couldn't help but wonder, who's here to see him? His father didn't seem to have any interest in seeing him, he didn't even answer when he was able to call him. The only other person he could've think of was maybe one of the people at church, but even that didn't make sense.

The doors to the cafeteria were already open, all of the air was suddenly stuck in his throat. His father sat down, staring him down. He gulped as he walked up to him, not daring to say a word.

"Hello son, sit down."Kenneth smiled at him with his fake smile he used when in public. Accompanied by a soft tone that only meant danger.

"Hello father." Travis forced himself to smile before Kenneth could even tell him to. He sat down with his hands underneath the table, placed perfectly in his lap.

"I heard that you got into a fight again with that Larry boy, is this true?"

"I said, is this true? Answer me when I'm speaking to you." He grabbed Travis' wrist tightly from underneath the table, making him wince in pain.

"Yes father, I'm sorry!" He hissed quietly, waiting for him to do something. Kenneth let go of him and sighed in anger, before smiling again.

"Let us pray, son." His demeanor switched quickly again as he clasped his hands together, waiting for Travis to do the same. Closing his eyes he did as his father was doing, reciting prayer, after prayer until Kenneth was satisfied.