Chapter 26

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Cas' Pov

"You were with that Winchester boy again weren't you!"

I stood up instinctively. "No, I was with Hannah." I replied sticking to my original excuse.

"I called Hannah's father, he said you and Hannah had had a fight and you haven't been around for months!" He was furious his eyes wide and his cheeks red.

I remained motionless, I didn't say a word, what could I say? I could lie again but he'd find out somehow.

"So were you with him?" He hissed refusing to call Dean by his name.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "I love him." I said calmly but it even made me wince, it was such a cliched response and hardly a good argument. I don't think my father is capable of love, it's not like he'd understand.

"No you don't! You're still a child just trying to rebel like the bad people you surround yourself with. One day you'll grow up and see this was all some stupid phase!"

"I'm almost eighteen!" I said raising my voice now. "And it's not a phase, it's not a stupid hobby or experiment, I'm gay. You can do what you want to keep me from Dean but there will always be some other guy. I'll never have the perfect family you imagined for me." It was impossible to make him understand I couldn't change.

"I know what's best for you Castiel! This is for your own good, I will not let my only son become a sinner." He snapped. Then he grabbed my phone from the side of my bed and slammed my door shut behind him.

"No!" I yelled running to the door panic taking over, but it was already too late, I heard the key turn in the lock.

My father used to lock me in my room when I was younger, sometimes for days on end. But he hadn't done it for years, I'd almost forgotten that the lock was there.

I slid down to the floor and wrapped my knees to my chest. I remained there for over an hour as the panic attack washed over.

It was already dark outside my window and the street lamps cast an eerie amber glow trough my curtains.

Once I was able to produce a coherent thought I sat up straight and scanned my bedroom.

My computer. My father hadn't taken my laptop and it was still sitting on my desk.

I figured I wouldn't have long until he realised so I sprung to my feet and opened it up. I went straight to Facebook and messaged Dean,  Charlie, Jo, Gabe and all the others with the same message.

CastielNovak: Crazy dad locked me in bedroom and took phone! Send help!

I know it sounded dramatic but I had no idea how long it would be before he let me out and knew if anyone could help it would be my closest friends.

Exactly one hour later my dad came back taking my laptop and even my headphones and CD player. I sat back and let him do it knowing it was better to cooperate. But I hadn't had a reply from any of my friends so there was no knowing what they'd do or when they'd do it. 

After three days, I started to think they didn't get the message, or maybe my dad had done something.

My dad refused to come back to my room and my mom only came to bring me food. It was like a prison. I felt so hopeless that was the worst part. There was nothing I could do about it, I could try to persuade my mom to let me out but then she'd be in just as much shit as I was. I could lie to my dad and tell him he's right, but he'd find out I was lying soon enough. I was completely trapped, and it was agony. 

The only company was the small sliver razor blade that hid in my bedside draw. I tried to resist, I really did. But sometimes that persistant feeling, like my skin was crawling or like someone was pushing against my skull, sometimes that feeling was impossible to ignore. 

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