"Church Boy."

Truthful

TW-ABUSE-SELF HARM-ATTEMPTED SUICIDE-ANGST

I stood up from the floor. "Larry, do you have some paper and something to write with?" I ask. "Yea, right here." He said, pointing to a shoebox next to him. "Thank you." I said, opening it to reveal a few notebooks and some writing utensils. 

"No problem, Travis." he said, continuing with his art. I walked back to the spot I was at and sat down once again. I sat the paper on the top of the lid to a container nowhere in sight that was resting on the floor.

"𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔. 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝒢𝑜𝒹, 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇. 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒, 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉, 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓋𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒. 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝓎𝓁𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁..."

I wrote, tears coming to my eyes. 

Sal's POV: 

I was in my room, lying on my bed and holding the stuffed cat my mother had gotten me when I was younger. It looked like Gizmo. My dad got Gizmo because he looked like an animal, we got him after the accident. He was my favorite little boy. My lil' meatball boy.

I smiled a little, happy I still could after what just went down. I tossed and turned around. Soon after I got comfy, my walkie-talkie beeped, and Larry started talking to me. "Hey, Sal?" he softly called out. "Yea?" I exasperatedly ask. "Travis is being, like, super fucking weird. He's being all quiet and polite. Can you come over?" he asked, a genuine sense of worry in his voice. "Sure, I'll be right up." I assure him, slipping on my shirt.

*Time Skip*

I was in the elevator now when my walkie-talkie went off again. "Dude, he just left." Larry said, panic settling in his voice. "Where'd he go?" I ask, just as concerned. "Outback. Asked me for some paper and something to write with. After he wrote something down, he put it in his pocket and left. What if it's, like, a suicide note or something?" Larry suggested, causing my heart to race and my brow to sweat. "Let's hope not..."

I ran out of the elevator as it opened, the door still sliding slightly. I ran to his room, not bothering to knock or tell anyone why I was there. "Hey, Sal." My dad greeted me from the couch. "Hi, dad!" I yelled back, faking happiness as I panicked harder. I busted into Larry's room to find him already dressed and ready to go. "C'mon!" I yelled, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the door. 

As we exited the building, the sight of bright blonde hair at the top caught me off guard. "Travis, what the fuck are you doing?" I yelled, body beginning to shake but most likely not from the cold. "I'm fucking done." he yelled back, taking a small step forward. 

My heart sped up and my intrusive thoughts got the better of me.

Travis' POV:

I was standing at the edge. His bright blue hair caught my attention. "Travis, what the fuck are you doing?!" he yelled. "I'm done." I replied, taking a small step as I recalled every fucking time my father punished me. 

Every time I watched my mother bleeding on the floor.

Every time I cut my body up. 

Every time I feared coming home. 

Every time I begged for my father's approval and love. 

Every time I thought of Sal. 

Every damn time.

"Leave. I know you don't care. I know it. Stop pretending you do so everyone will look at you like you're a saint. You are the epitome of evil. You are a sinner. A freak!" I yelled, clenching my fists. Sal took a step back and looked at Larry. He said something, I could tell because his mask shifted. 

After he turned away from Larry, he faced the treehouse and started bolting towards it. He climbed the steps at an inhuman pace, something I never thought would be possible for a guy his size. 

Once he reached me, he tackled me to the ground and pulled me into a hug. "Travis, what the fuck were you thinking?!" he screamed, hugging me tighter. 

Sal's POV:

I looked up at the boy, fear in his eyes and anger in his stance. I turned towards Larry and started talking. "I'm going to save his life, even if it costs me mine. I promise." I said, Larry turned to me with fear and guilt in his eyes. "I love you, bro. So much. Be fuckin' careful and don't do anything stupid." he said, looking back toward Travis. He looked down at me with hate. "Leave. I know you don't care. I know it. Stop pretending you do so everyone will look at you like you're a saint. You are the epitome of evil. You are a sinner. A freak!" he yelled.

I took a deep breath and ran as fast as my legs would take me to the treehouse. I climbed up the steps, ravaging my fingers and hands as I did. Once I reached the top, I tackled him to the ground, hugging him and wishing I could hold on forever. "Travis, what the fuck were you thinking?!" I screamed, tightening my grasp. 

He looked at me with pure fear. "I don't know..." he said, falling into my arms and letting the tears drip from his deep amber eyes. "Don't you ever fucking scare me like that again..." I whispered, taking in everything I could. 

He smelled like vanilla and new book; his eyes were amber, and he had dark bags under them. Small freckles could be seen if you looked hard enough. He looked exhausted. "I was so scared..." he admitted. "Travis, I was too..." I assured. "What...?" he asked, confused and sad. "I tried too. My dad found me and cut the rope. I'm so fucking grateful..." I said, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. 

Travis stayed silent for a moment, accepting my hug and letting me rub his back as I talked to him. "Trav, why do you hate me?" I asked, trying not to dampen the already cold mood. He said nothing, instead, he sighed and buried his face into my neck. "I don't know..." he truthfully answered. "It's okay..." I assured, using my fingers to massage his spine. 

"Travis, we don't have to be enemies, you know that, right?" I ask, cupping his cheek as he stared at me. "I know..." he said, dropping his head onto my shoulder. "Friends?" I ask. 

"Friends..."