K2

16

Trigger warning: This page contains Violence, abuse, and homophobia.

Kenny's POV

I walked down the dim lit street of my neighborhood and listened to my boots crushing the snow, I was able to pull together some change and picked up a small sandwhich for Karen.
I smiled to myself thinking about how Kyle's lips felt against mine. Everything about him was so inviting, I wouldve begged just one more kiss off him if he'd let me. But Kyle knows me, I wouldnt be able to stop there. Lucky one of us is the responsible one. I never thought I'd ever be so in love with this boy, my best friend. How lucky am I?

Things might just be okay after all. I climbed over the tall wired fence that wrapped around my house and quietly snuck through my bedroom window. I was surprised to find Karen still in my room but she was awake, and crying again... "Karen? What's going on?" I rubbed her back. She sniffled and hugged my arm, it was huge compared to her. She could barely wrap her arms all the way around me. "There fighting again, dad's being scary." She said shakily. I frowned and pet her hair "don't worry Karen, I'll take care of it. You hungry?" I unwrapped the sandwhich and handed it to her. Karen jumped at the sound of glass breaking. "Its okay Karen, here." I dug into my coat pocket and pulled out a pair of wound up ear buds that Stan gave me along with the old slide phone. I plugged it in, put on some music and put them into Karen's ears. "I'll be back, why don't you dig in?" I patted her head once more, Karen smiled and took a big bite from the sandwhich.

Anxiously I stood up and made my way out the door. They were screaming alright, but I was surprised to find that they were fighting about me.
"Gay?? No son of mine, Carol. No son of mine is gonna play for the other team and live under my roof!" I heard my father slur, he was wasted. "Calm down Stuart... Can't you just- listen to him?" My mother said. "I hear just fine Carol! That shit's not gonna fly in my house, I didn't raise no f*ggot-
Maybe we outta pay a visit to father stevens." I was getting angry, it wasn't really a simple task trying to un-gay someone. I stepped into the kitchen where they were arguing causing the floor board to creak. My father's attention snapped toward me immediately "Kenneth McCormick where the hell have you been!?" I felt my courage slipping but I stood my ground as he got in my space, towering over me "Kyle's." I said evenly. I looked at my mom, 'I'm sorry' was written all over her face. Then I felt my dad slap me over the head "Look at me when I'm talking to you..." he said lowly, I was terrified. I almost preferred that he was yelling instead. He held me tightly by the hair forcing me to look at him, I swallowed hard "Let go" I managed to get out. He screamed and shook me about throwing me against the wall.
His words were a slurred jumbled mess, the whole situation disorienting. Finally I caught my balance and tackled him, "Fuck! Why can't you just leave us alone already!!?" I screamed and threw one punch before he got the upper hand back and showed me no mercy. Stuart beat me til I was blue, I prayed Karen wasn't around to see this. I heard my mother try pulling him off me but he just threw her against the wall like she weighed nothing. "Let this be a life lesson son, nobody talks to me like that." He growled, "Fuck you" I choked out and that was Stuart's last straw. Less then a foot away was a rusted box cutter, he grabbed it and plunged the jagged edge into my stomach. "What are you doing!!?" My mother screamed. All the air left my lungs and I coughed up blood. Stuart pulled it out and repeated his actions, over and over and over he mangled my torso. I felt the tears fall and let my head fall to the side, that's when I noticed Death in the window watching the scene calmly.

And I remembered, this would have happened no matter what I did. My heart was broken no matter how many times this happened or how used to it I got, It hurt so much. But the sight of Karen walking in is what barried me. I believed she wouldn't forget this. Was it selfish of me to want her to remember? I wanted her to remember that I died tonight and came back. It would sound nicer to say that I wanted her to remember so she would never worry. but truly, I wanted her to remember because she's my sister and I don't want to be alone in this anymore,
Even with a box cutter sticking out of my chest, I just felt guilty. I wanted her to remember so badly, but how could I wish that on my baby sister? I coughed and finally sound didn't escape me anymore, it all went black.