The American Nightmare [BoyXBoy]

.:12:.

August had passed quicker than I ever wanted it to. This only meant that we were getting closer and closer towards the dreaded date of the execution, however the things that were going to happen before it were surely worse.

I did a pretty good job of getting out of visiting the basement, because I could not bare to face Kellin for a while. For some bizarre reason, I actually felt something this time. He was not like the others; he could make my heart flutter at the sound of his voice and my stomach hurt from laughing at his jokes and my hands shake in excitement whenever he touched me. Kellin was so much different, but I just could not figure out why.

Today was the 2nd of September, meaning that there were exactly three weeks left before the big day. And what did that mean? Preparation.

Preparation was certainly worse than the actual sacrifice itself. There were two parts to it. One which had to be done at the three week mark and the next which had to be done at the one week mark. This would leave him with a couple of weeks to recover until the next part, and then he would finally be ready. Today we would be doing the better part of the preparation - if you could even use any positive words to describe it. But, honestly, it was not as bad as the second part.

I slumped my shoulders and dragged myself out of the warm bed, while searching for my clothes and pulling them on as quickly as I could. I needed to get out of there fast. When I was finally dressed, and although it only took about half a minute for me to do it, it felt like an hour; I moved towards the door. With one last look at the sleeping form of my naked mother, who lay peacefully on the bed, I left the room and jogged down the hallway. I really needed a shower after that.

I spent the rest of the day alone in my room, reading, as that seemed to be the only thing which relieved me from stress and stopped me from hanging myself right then and there. Honestly reading books felt safe to me. Books always had a definite beginning and end. You could always see how far into the book you were and how many pages there were. Of course, sometimes books could be heartbreaking and sometimes they were elating: they were my only source of emotion before...him. Books were safe and secure. Real life was not. Real people were not. Real emotions were not.

I had read this single book so many times, but it was my favourite. I also did not have much of a choice, as I could not exactly go out and buy myself more books. The book was a long one, named 'Centre Of My World' by an interesting German author, and told the adventures - or rather misadventures - of a pair of twins: a boy and a girl. Why were their lives so much better than mine? Yes, their mother was the town's whore and they did not have a father and both were confused about their sexualities, but their lives always had so many bright points. Mine did not. Its only bright point was Kellin, but now he was locked in the basement about to get prepared.

Snapping my book shut at the sound of my father's voice calling me (mainly from how much it startled me), I clenched my fists tightly and hopped off my bed. I quickly exited the room before I had the chance to convince myself to stay. I just really did not want this to happen. But maybe if I was present I could somehow make it better, although that was not very likely. Or maybe I could convince them to go easy on him, which hopefully would not make it worse.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs I found my family already waiting for my arrival. I gave them a quick nod before leading the way down to the silent basement. The silence was fucking terrifying. It never meant anything good and I doubted that this time would be an exception. However, then again, Kellin was an exception in many circumstances. He was my exception.

When we were all piled in the basement, all of our looks fell onto Kellin who gazed back with such simplicity in his eyes that I wanted to squeeze him. He looked so clueless and upset and his always-smiling face was insulted with a frown. But it was not a sad or angry frown. It was a scared frown.

I had to look away when Papa stepped closer towards Kellin.

"What are you doing?" He demanded when my father undoubtedly began to strip him off of the little clothing he had on. "Get away from me!" Kellin cried and I swallowed hard.

As my eyes were closed, I heard the sounds of more movement. It was the contraption, which imprisoned Kellin, and it was being relocated to the centre of the room where we would have more access to his naked body. I had already already seen him completely bare, and he looked like an angel, but this was so much different. I was honestly starting to get a headache from this and my stomach did not feel too well either.

I felt a nudge to my shoulder, which made me open up my eyes and avert my gaze to my brother.

"Are you okay?" He mouthed silently, to which I just responded with a shrug. He had probably noticed my distaste towards what was happening.

"He's ready," I heard the murmur which made my heart stop.

"Okay, boys!" Mother called to us. "Gether 'round."

I took long and steady breaths, stepping into my place. The four of us stood in a circle around the helpless and chained body of Kellin. I could hear his rapid heartbeat from where I was standing but, then again, I was a good listener.

Mother opened her parched lips and spoke the forbidden words, in a long-dead language, but I was not listening. I was focusing more on not having a heart attack, especially when Mike handed me the whip. I bit down hard on my bottom lip, when I realised that it was quivering.

"Is everyone ready?" Mother asked as soon as she finished the ancient chant.

"What is going on?" Kellin demanded. "Let me go you sick fucks!"

"Is everyone ready?" Mother repeated with more passion, obviously becoming annoyed with the boy. This time, she did not even wait for an answer and lifted up her tool. Oh God, no! I could not allow this to happen!

Just as she was about to throw the first stinging hit, my eyes shot up to meet the pleading blue ones of Kellin and I spoke quietly, without thinking, "Can we please not do this?"

"Did you say something?" Mother asked in confusion, but quickly brushed it off, and hit Kellin across the stomach with her whip. I watched in horror, as the boy screamed out loudly and the skin split, gashing out small drops of blood. And, from then on, it was torturous for him.

All I could do was watch ad my family, my own flesh and blood, terrorised and abused the poor boy who restlessly yelled out for help, as if he had not tried doing that before. It was useless. I had to contribute somehow, so I gave him lighthearted hits, which looked real enough to pass but definitely did not hurt a lot. But, when they did get suspicious, I used the excuse of my hands still aching. I did not want Kellin to be hurt, for some reason, but there was no backing out. I had signed up for this.

We all had to chant the old words, as it carried on for ten dreadful minutes. The agony he was in must not have been worse than what I felt on the inside. Oh how I wished that I just backed out what I could - although, technically, I never could. This was my fate: pulling innocent people through torture in order for my family to gain power.

I hated the sight of Kellin's porcelain skin turning red with each mark, or how his eyes were wetter than u had ever seen them before. I despised this with everything in me, but it had a purpose. Even if it was not a good one.

I was relieved when it was finally over. I was the first one out of there, quick to wash away my sins with an ice cold shower, in which I mainly cried.