Left Abroad

Chapter 6

There was some shouting, some almost tears and most of all confusion. My parents seemed worried about me, but also a bit distant. Hahaha. Story of my life. My dad tried to come near me when he was talking to me but I just took a step back, remembering the blue marks on my arm from our last conversation in their room. Everything died down soon and it was quiet throughout the house. Everyone returned to what they were doing. Except for one person who pulled me to the back yard by the pool and sat down to talk.

"Nathan, honey, I know."

"Excuse me?"

"To be honest, I did a bit of snooping in your room. I found your sketchbook honey," I stared into her brown eyes with shock.

"Okay," I said after swallowing hardly, what did you respond to something like that.

I just stared, gobsmacked. Speechless. I clasped my hands together wondering what this conversation was steering towards.

"Mom," I heard from the door and looked to see Micheal.

I only looked at him for a moment and then realised that he knew. He knew what his mother was discussing with me and he looked a bit worried which in turn made me worry more. He came and sat next to me on the deck chair, looking at his mom.

"Yes dear," she asked.

"Don't look so serious and grave, you're scaring him," he said with a little awkward chuckle.

"I caught her paging through it and almost got a heart attack. She asked me if I knew what was inside and I said yes."

"It was beautiful," she said and I swear my chin hit the floor.

Most people wouldn't go for that word, it usually leaned to disgusting, fowl, abomination or just plain wrong.

"Wait, what did you do after you talked," I asked.

"We talked about what to do since my mom wanted to tal-"

"With the sketchbook," I said interrupting him.

They turned to each other with question in their eyes. I didn't hesitate, I ran as fast as I could to my room and looked around. Nothing on the bed, desk, in the closet. I almost turned the room upside down, it was gone. No, someone had taken it! I was on my knees, even checking under the bed when I felt defeated. Then I heard something from the door, the sound of pages being run through by a finger.

"Looking for this?"

I knew that voice, that tone and I felt sick to my stomach. Very slowly I stood up and turned towards the door, so slowly you could have sworn that a lion was standing at my door.

"So all this time, all this time," he said through gritted teeth, "All this time we were raising an unholy abomination. A Faggot!"

"Don't call me that," I said as I released my breath which I had been holding.

"Speak up you faggot!"

"I said, don't call me that," I raised my voice this time as the tears started threatening to come out.

"How dare you raise your voice at me," and with that he dropped my sketchbook and with one fluid motion brought a fist straight to the side of my jaw.

The force knocked me to the ground and he came back and started kicking me. The pain in my ribs caused tears to stream down my face. But unfortunately that was nothing compared to the pain I felt when I saw my mom, standing there, just watching. I felt a kick to my head and my vision started blurring, soon I was unconscious, but not before I saw Micheal trying to get my dad off of me. Then a quick sweep of my vision then I saw Mr. Alvarez run in. Then nothing, the blackness took over.

I remembered him always being so quiet, never really answering our questions, never caring all that much. I remembered how awkward it would be to be alone with him, how he drank and how he got physical. He never said I love you, not once in my life. According to him no one ever did anything right. The more I thought about it the more I realised all I was describing was a monster.

She, she was always there, always wanting to know what I was doing. Always finding a way to hurt me emotionally, not even knowing it. She was suffocating me, always sending me to do stuff, to do chores, to do everything she was too lazy to do. She ruled me like a slave.

*******

I kept hearing people talking loudly. Someone was shouting as I very slowly opened my eyes. There was this loud siren and the sky was grey as they rolled me through some door. The front door I realised as the cold hit me. I felt something at my hand, a squeeze.

"Stay with us. Nathan, you need to try and stay awake okay," the woman said running beside me.

I saw the ambulance and soon was lifted in, as they wanted to close the door someone stopped them.

"Please let me ride with, please," it was Micheal pleading and I felt a pang at my chest.

The woman looked at me again and I gave her a nod, Micheal came in and sat next to the gurney holding my hand. He looked so confused, he looked so mad, but his eyes held more sadness.

"Mic," I said my throat sore.

He brought his face closer to mine and stared at me intently. A bit of time passes like that.

"Thank you," I said recalling him to be the first to be of aid with my da. . . with that man.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed my hand, then we came to an abrupt stop and the door flew open. It was all a blur as we got out and I was being run down a hall.

Half an hour later I was sitting on the side of a hospital bed, my ribs rapped in bandages and also one on my head. The curtain opened and then Micheal, his mom and dad and a guy who was probably a doctor.

"Well, Nathan, I'm very glad to say that you have very little damage at all. You have some bruised ribs, which will heal in about a week or so and the kick to the head hasn't caused any damage," he said flipping through my file. "All and all, you look good, just some sore ribs and a headache that will probably last about a day or two."

"Wen will he be able to come home," Micheal asked.

"Well, nothing seems to be serious, but we would just like him to stay a night maybe two if needed, just to make sure everything stays that way. I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me I need to go," he said very politely and left.

I don't know what I'm going to do. After what just happened, what will I do, where will I go. I felt my eyes tearing up as I thought about my dad kicking me on the floor.

"Nathan, are you olright," Mrs. Alvarez asked, "Is it the pain?"

I just shook my head.

Mr. Alvarez then came closer and lightly put his hands on my shoulders, he looked right into my eyes as if looking right at my soul. Seeing everything inside of me.

"Don't worry son, I'll sort everything out. You don't have to go back to them. You never have to see them again if that's what you want."

His voice was sharp, but you could hear the emotion behind them and I could see it on his face. He was disgusted , but not at me, at them.