Purity- a Salvis story (completed)

❶❹

✞

The "Travis? Travis!" that rang out about a second later was all it took to snap me out of my blissful daze. Sal could of been on fire with the way I jumped back from him so quickly. A look of confusion danced in his eyes for a split second before I watched them widen. I'd soon understand why.

A rough hand was on my shoulder in an instant, whipping me around.

Fathers face was fixed in a calm disappoint, but his grip was quickly tightening, I knew there was an fury boiling under his mask.

Before I knew what was happening, his open palm made swift impact with the side of my face. My head violently thrashed to the side. I wouldn't have usually been so effected by just a slap, but I would of never expected him to hit me in public. When I regained my bearings, I could hear sal behind me as my fathers grip tightened on my shoulder.

"Jesus! What the fuck?! Let go of him!" You could hear the fear in his voice.

"This doesn't concern you, boy." My father growled. Fear rose in my stomach, "Heaven have mercy on you're sodomite soul. Dragging my son into you're goddamned filth..."

"Sal, I'm fine." I managed, "j-just go inside. I'll be fine."

Somehow, I knew this time I was lying. The rain was louder than ever in my ears as my father and Sal continued their argument.

"Get off of him!" Sal's voice was breaking, borderline hysterical, "he doesn't want to go with you, asshole!"

I cringed at Sal's words. He really had no clue what my father was capable of. If he did he wouldn't talk like that.

Father looked down at Sal with an icy stare before I watched a small smirk glint across his face.

"Really, now."

Suddenly I was on the sidewalk, my palms now indented with small rocks from trying to catch myself. Dad had shoved me into the slick cement.

A choked noise came from Sal as he rushed to my side, putting himself between my dad and I.

"S-Sal, get back." I managed, grasping at his shirt with now bleeding hands, trying to shove him aside. There was no way he was getting hit because of me.

"Travis," my fathers voice was dripping with a smug sludge as I panted beside Sal, "I think we ought to get going, don't you?."

I huffed on the ground, Sal beside me. I knew exactly what this was. He was showing Sal what himself and I already knew.

That he owned me. That he could get me to do whatever the hell he wanted without even laying a hand on me.

"What the hell! No way he's going anywhere with you!"

"Travis, the car. Now. We wouldn't want to keep you're sister waiting."

There it was. The leverage. It was the way he said it. It was a warning. It was letting me know that if I wasn't there for him to beat... Aggie would be.

I knew he had me by the throat. He won. He ripped me from happiness just like he always had, just like he always would. I let myself think things could get better with sal when in reality there was nothing I could do.

There was no way out.

Without a word, I brought myself to my feet and shakily started toward my fathers car, which had been hurriedly parallel parked on the street.

"Travis?" Sal's voice was weak with disbelief. He looked so genuinely confused, like he didn't get why I was walking.

"I-I'm sorry." I breathed, though I couldn't tell if it was in earshot.

"Honor thy father, Travis." Dad smirked, signaling me to keep walking.

I turned my back on Sal and did just that.

"I-I-" Sal's voice was broken, scared. I kind of reminded me of Aggie for a second.

"I'm calling the fucking cops!" He finaly managed with what little power he had.

There was a laugh/scoff from my father that I didn't turn to see as I slid into the passenger seat of the station wagon. He knew there was no way the cops would do anything. They would never take the word of someone like sal, a blue-hair stoner with a shoplifting problem, over the word it's of one of the most powerful clergymen in Nockfell. And, probably, the word of his two children once he fed them some lie to spit out.

I watched Sal disappear into the complex through a rain streaked window as father slide into the drivers seat. I didn't dare look at him. A feeling of something far worst than fear was rising in my throat. I just kept my eyes fixed on the dash, the shadows of raindrops keeping me busy.

My heart was beating so fast I thought it might explode. I knew what was coming. I could hear it in his slow, growl like breaths coming from the drivers seat. I hoped he couldn't hear me basically hyperventilating as we pulled into the driveway.

I didn't even try to reach for the door.

I waited for him to yell. To slam my head against the window and scream that I was a worthless faggot. To do anything.

Instead a low voice came from behind the wheel, barely concealing the pure fury that hid behind the calm.

I wish he would have just yelled.

"You'll go inside, wash the filth off yourself from that faggot, and meet your sister and I in the living room in 15 minutes. We need to have a discussion. Furthermore, if you try to run off again and god help me, I will break every tooth in that blasphemous mouth, do you understand?"

I didn't even try to explain or apologize. I knew how this was going for me either way. He was going to kill me. I was sure of it.

Someone was going to die tonight.

"Yes, sir."

✞