I'll Be the Ship That Carries You Away(Kellic)

    Kellin has had his fair share of crappy relationships. Well, more than his fair share really, he’d had enough for everyone. At age twenty four, Kellin had been consumed by a total of three abusive relationships. Disgustingly, it became a normal thing for him. His instincts morphed into ones that would fit around these men. He learned to cower at a raised hand or loud voice, to apologize for everything he did, even if it wasn’t wrong, but most of all he learned to never trust anyone. Not even himself.

    He was just sixteen when Mark first asked him out. Of course he said yes, why wouldn’t he? Mark was funny, smart, caring and cute. He had all the qualities a good boyfriend should have. At least on the surface, Mark was made for Kellin. They slipped into a state that wasn’t quite love but could be one day fairly easily. Being the hormonal teenagers they were, they said their ‘I love you’s’ early on in the relationship. Everything was perfect. Until Mark decided Kellin seemed to associate with a boy named Austin too much for his liking. Kellin can still remember this clearly; the first hit. It’s like the memory is engrained on his brain, occasionally forcing Kellin to relive it again and again.

    They had been leaving a party, one that Mark had drunk a little too much at. They stumbled out of the house, Kellin supporting Mark’s weight. They had walked to the party, as it was only a few streets down from where Kellin lived. Kellin reached down, attempting to intertwine his fingers with Mark’s. Quickly, Mark snatched his hand away, turning to glare at Kellin.

    “Don’t touch me!” he shouted, stumbling slightly away from Kellin. Kellin frowned, surely Mark wasn’t mad at him.

    “Why? What’s wrong, babe?” Kellin asked, stepping closer to Mark.

    “What’s wrong? You’re a fucking whore, that’s what’s wrong!” Mark shouted, getting closer to Kellin’s face. Kellin’s cheeks burned red, embarrassed that someone even thought of him this way. There had never been any reason to; Kellin had only ever dated Mark. He didn’t flirt with anyway, nor did he ever make perverted jokes. Hell, he was still a virgin. How on earth could he be classified as a whore?

    “What are you talking about Mark?” he asked quietly, trying not to show how hurt he was. mark just sneered at him, stepping closer.

    “I saw you, flirting with Austin all night. Don’t even try to lie about it,” Mark seethed. Kellin just frowned, thrown off. Austin was his straight best friend. Even if Kellin were to flirt with him, it’s not like he would accomplish anything.

    “I didn’t flirt with Austin, Mark. That’s just stupid,” Kellin muttered, half hoping he hadn’t heard the last part. Mark’s face went red, anger pulsing through him.

      “Don’t call me stupid, you fucking slut!” Mark yelled. This was the moment, the moment Mark would do something that would change Kellin forever. He can remember the still night air, the warmth it seemed to bring. The way the moon was shining, giving off just enough light for him to see his boyfriend. He remembers seeing that hand fly up, the one he thought would never hit him. And he remembers the smack that landed across his cheek. The one that left a bruise on his face that he would have to come up with a story for later. The blows that came after the initial are faint in his memory, they all seem to blur together.

    He also remembers Mark coming over to his house the next day with flowers. He remembers how Mark kissed his cheek, how he apologized for every single mark he left on Kellin. Reluctantly, he forgave Mark. After all, they were in love, it would never happen again. Right? For another year Mark would hit Kellin at the slightest thing, only leaving when he found that Kellin was too boring.

    His second abusive relationship happened when he was nineteen. This boy promised that no one would ever love Kellin, besides him. No one would ever want him in anyway. And Kellin believed him, what else was he supposed to think? He must be if he managed to make both of his only boyfriends lead to violence. So he didn’t leave, not until a friend came over one day and physically forced him too. Again, he thought he loved his attacker. Again and again he would forgive him. Again and again he would wake up with bruises, sore all over his body.