Bittersweet (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 3

Hey guys! I'm back, here's another chapter.  There is an insight to Dexter's past in this one that may be challenging for some to read.

Warning for abuse; read if you can handle such things.

Un-edited

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It was later on that evening, stuffed full of microwaved s'mores, girl scout cookies, and dollar store brand soda, that Scott couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer.

"So..." Scott started of slowly.

"So, what?"  I laughed, confused at how my brother went from cheerful and happy, to slightly weary and concerned. 

I leaned further into my pink, furry bean bag chair, Hey! don't judge, and glanced at him from the corner of my eyes, not wanting to take my attention off the screen.  These stupid zombies just wouldn't die! No matter how many times I ran away from them and threw things back, they just wouldn't die!! Urgh! Scott usually just protected me throughout the game, knowing I didn't like to hit things, even murderous zombies out for my brains.

I glanced at my brother who had begun to fidget in his blue bean bag chair. His face twisted into a weird expression, making me twist my head to look at him even more.  What the heck is he thinking about?  I wondered to myself as the theme song for my death played from the game. 

My head whipped back around to the t.v only to watch as my avatar was eaten by the zombies.  I sighed and turned off the play station before, once again, turning my attention back to my brother who still had that look on his face.

Crawling from the warmth of my chair, I went over to my brother only to stop a few inches away, staring intently at him. My hand reached out slowly until it came in contact with the skin stretched across his high cheekbones. I poked him, catching his attention from whatever he was thinking about.

"What is the purpose of your face?" I asked him, quoting one of my favorite movies, Home. I giggled slightly as he gave a nervous chuckle.

"It's just..."  He left off, not continuing his sentence as his face took the expression again. 

Poking him once more, his normal expressions returned, but laced in his eyes was confusion and fear.

"Just, what?"  I asked, becoming nervous. "Come on, Scotty, you can tell me.  I won't get mad at you.  I promise." 

"It's just, I want- no. I, like, need to know what caused you to flip like that the other day.  Did someone do something to you?  Did they harm you?  Did you get a flashback?  I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt, Dexter.  You're my little brother, so please, tell me.  I'm here.  Only me.  I won't hurt you."

After his rumblings end, my mood dropped.

Of course, I have to tell him what happened.  He would never hurt me, I know that.  He was the one who got me away from ... him... Scotty would never hurt me.  I just don't like thinking about it.  I don't want to relive the pain.  I don't even want to see the face of the person who caused me to be so... this.

"I know you'd never hurt me Scotty.  I know that.  I just don't like reliving the pain over and over again." I croaked out, my voice suddenly gone hoarse just thinking back to the day at my work. "Just some guy calling those, those stupid pet names he did.  It, it just got to me and then it all came back full force. " 

I took a deep breath, getting slowly up from the crawled position I was in, and leaned back, pulling my knees to my chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable all over again. I rest my head against the tops of my knees, tears starting to make their appearance in my eyes as the memories from my past swept through my head.

"I, I ended u-up fr-freaking out-t and-d then I j-just bl-blacked out o-on the fl-floor." I sobbed out, tears streaming down my face as I remembered the countless times He  hurt me.

"Get up,you little bitch!! "  He screamed at my from the door to my room. "Time to play you pretty, little fag." He smiled evilly, watching as my expression turned from one of peace to complete and utter terror.

Opening my mouth, I prepared to scream for help, to get some kind of assistance from anywhere, but he was there, in front of me in an instant.  His filthy, large hand covered my mouth as I covered it with my tears.

"Aw," He said, faking concern. "What's the matter, Sweetheart? Scared to hang out with your big bro? I thought we had so much fun together!! I mean, you never complained... or is that because I never gave you the chance?"

By then I was trembling in fear as the first hit landed on my pale skin, right in my ribcage, knocking the breath out of me.

And that's how it would continue, until I blacked out from the pain or until he felt complete.  He would never hit me anywhere noticeable.  Always someplace my clothes would hide the damage.  Always someplace no one would see the torture I was put through. 

 I slowly came back down the reality, noticing that I was in Scott's arms as he whispered reassuring things and apologies in my ear, trying to get me to calm down. I gazed out through blurry eyes, tear tracked drying on my face, and I finally realized I was muttering something under my breath.

"why, why, why, why, why, why, why..." On a continuous loop exited my mouth.

That was something I never did find out.

Why did he do that to me?

Why?

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Well, guys.... a little insight to Dexter's past.

Until next Monday

Mack Out.