OUT

Chapter 43

Saturday, March 28th 2015

Jack slipped in and out of sleep in the backseat of his mother's car. She was driving like a maniac on the early morning roads which were empty, thankfully. His father was pinned to the passenger seat, practically pulling his jaysus handle out of the ceiling. Every time his eyes fluttered open they were arguing, and that energy followed him into his dreams as he slept.

He was in a coffin that was quickly filling up with cockroaches and maggots. He tried to struggle, but he couldn't move. His body wasn't bound, but he was frozen, paralysed. He tried to scream, but as he opened his mouth, the cockroaches rushed into his mouth, knocking his teeth out of his head as they scurried into his skull. At that moment, the bottom of the coffin fell from under him and he fell through the air.

He landed on his stomach in a patch of grass. It was long and damp. It was dark out. He looked around, and in the distance he could see a barn with lights on. From somewhere behind him, he felt a presence looming. He couldn't tell what it was, but he sensed it was bad, evil even. He jumped to his feet and ran for the barn. Jack's legs felt fine, but it was like he was running in a swimming pool - no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn't gain speed.

As the barn got closer, it seemed the shadowy figure on his tail was getting closer too. Close enough to be scarier, but still unable to actually reach him. Close enough to build the fear in his bones. He flung himself through the doors of the barn and slammed them shut behind him. With his back pressed to the doors, he slid down to his hunkers and buried his head in his palms. He was breathing heavily.

For a moment, there was no noise from outside. Whatever had been chasing him was now gone. As he got to his feet, he realised he was in his own barn. There were a few hay bales in the corner, a little pen they sometimes birthed the lambs, and there was Mick, as Jack had found him as a child, hanging by his neck from the rafters.

He screamed and suddenly he was back in the back seat of the car as they pulled into Galway city. Jack had tears in his eyes. His parents were arguing with each other. 'Well he didn't lick it off the ground, Cathleen!'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'He's our son, end of.'

'No son of mine will be caught dressing like that! He'll make a show of us!'

'He could've died! We already lost Mick-'

'Don't you dare bring him into this,' she roared, driving more erratically.

'We have one son, we can't lose him too,' argued his father, more sternly.

'I won't have a gay son!' she roared, swinging her arm across at him and hitting him in the face with the back of her hand. He recoiled in shock at the same time Jack spoke.

'Well what if you do?'

The pair of them turned to Jack. His mother swerved across the road from the fast lane and into the hard shoulder on the motorway. There were no other cars on the road at this time of the morning, but if there had been, there would have been a crash. His father cursed in fear as the car glugged to a halt and she turned to face him, venom in her eyes.

'If you're going to say what I think you're going to say, don't.'