White Lies

Chapter 1

^Chase above^

This book was harsh language and violent themes. Homophobic slurs will also be found since this is a LGBT+ witting. If this disturbs you, I would not advise for you to read.

I stared at the empty beige wall, waiting for something to happen. As like every morning, nothing. The dark blue comforter covered my body as I closed my eyes. I sighed, not wanting to put up with this world any longer. What was the purpose of fighting through it all, the storm in my head, when the ending seemed so bleak?

Silently I stifle a yawn and outstretch my sore arms above my head. They were covered in bruises varying from green to a sickly purple. Only a few hurt that bad if you happened to touch them, the rest, as I liked believing, were like splatters of paint on a canvas. But the artist didn't take the time to finish or sit around cloud watching. Instead, they lived in rage and heartbreak. He consumed alcohol as a coping mechanism, wiping the traumatic memories away every day and night.

The grey shirt I wore in my sleep was a little big, making it slip past my shoulder as I tousled my brown hair getting out of bed. The watch on my wrist read six thirty-eight telling I had to get ready. My legs threw themselves over the bed and made their way over to the small closet.

To prevent myself from being late to school I decided to wait to make my bed until I got home. My room was usually spotless to prove a point to myself that I would never be a pig like my farther. I promptly threw on a plain, red v-neck shirt and jeggings. Next to the door was my beat-up, off-brand converses I had found at goodwill and a plain black jacket, both of which I slipped on as well before heading out the door.

Passed out on the couch again was my drunken farther. It was nearly impossible to wake him when he was like this but I didn't want to consider the chances. I picked up the empty bottles surrounding the beer-bellied man cautiously, then taking a moment after throwing them away to gently take his shoes off. Half of his body was falling off the piece of furniture and I frowned. Deciding I couldn't do anything about it without getting viciously getting yelled at, I grabbed an apple from the fridge and went out the front door.

The neighborhood wasn't all that that risky or shady really, but enough to keep me on edge as I walked to school. My whole body ached, pleading with me to sit down. The pain in my chest was most noticeable, flaring each step.

After ten minutes or so, the red and white colors of the school halls greeted me as I stepped inside. Heated air was a relief after being in the cold for so long.

You could hear locker doors open and slam shut going down the halls .Groups of friends gossiping to each other excitedly passing down the halls together in little huddles. Our school unbelievably, and luckily, had almost little to no bullies. Besides the snide comments and snickers you would get sometimes, it was practically a haven.

"Chase, hood off in the building please." Mr. Tetro reminds me in a playful voice just like every morning.

"Yes sir," I laugh and quickly swipe it off my head and continues down the hall. When I reach my locker to switch out my binders and such a hand falls on my shoulder. My body immediately goes tense.

"Relax dude. It's just me!" Kayla says, "You okay?" Her locker was conveniently only a couple of feet away from mine, making morning conversations a lot easier. She had been with me since the middle of eighth grade when we had a group project together. My other friend, and only at the time, had been really on off. Some days he would be like a brother to me, next I was garbage under his shoe. One day, I guess she was sick of it and punched him in the jaw then wrapped one arm around my shoulder and rode off into the sunset.

Okay, I guess that was a bit of a lie, but it was still awesome.

Overhead the school bell rung, sending kids into a frantic rush to get to their first class. "Yeah, I'm fine Kay." I turn to face her and her face turns into surprise.

"What then hell happened to your face?"

As if the question summoned the pain, my hand flys up to my nose. I didn't remember getting hit in the face whatsoever last night. It was just as much of a surprise for her as it was for me. "Uh, ran into a pole?" I answer in a small voice and turn around, walking to my class fast before she could say anything.

"Wha- You can't just abandon me like this Chase!"

~

"All you have to do is transfer this x to the other side of the equation and you're done Matt!" The small seventh grader looks up at me with a smile. I tussled his hair and glanced at the clock. It was nearly six, almost the end of the tutoring session. After two or three more problems, his parents had showed up to take him home. I usually tutored kids every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday instead of working an actual job. It gave me more flexible hours and got to spend time with smaller kids. I mean, the pay wasn't extravagant but I loved doing it.

"Thanks Chase, I'll pay you next week okay? Thanks to your help Matt got a B+ on his last math test."

"You're welcome ma'am. Matt is a brilliant kid." I looked down at him. He was engaging in some game on his phone. "He seems to be really interested in robotics. Have you tried signing him up for the STEAM program at the middle school? I'm sure he would love it."

Matt's head goes flying up. "Please mom?!"

She sighs, "We'll see. Get your backpack hun."

He starts shuffling getting all the paper on the table organized and placing them in the correct folders. Consciously I check the time again. I needed to get home in less than fifteen minutes to clean.

Soon after the two left, I hiked my bag on one my shoulders wincing. The walk home from the community center was about eight minutes, so I left the building quickly and started speed walking.

When I got home, I quickly threw my stuff inside the room. Dinner needed to be cooked, bottles were spread all over, and the dishes and laundry were in piles. Dad came home at seven usually from wherever the hell he 'worked'. I didn't really mind, though, because it was at least enough to help pay the bills and buy food. Speaking of which, I needed to go shopping for.

With my headphones in playing one of my favorite playlist, I changed and did it all within 30 minutes surprisingly. Seven thirty came around and he wasn't here. 30 minutes passed and still nothing. Undoubtedly I was anxious but it was foolish. It was highly likely he was just out drinking.

To pass the time I grabbed one of my favorite books of my shelf, Gambles Of The Roses, and went outside and sat leaning against the side of the house. Just in case, I had brought a book light with me.

~

Bright headlights showering down on me make my head jerk up from my doze. In my second in confusion, I stand up rapidly accidentally dropping my book in dirt. Down the road a car was driving crazily, occasionally swerving in and out of the correct lane. When it pulls into my driveway, I stumble back onto my hands. Swiftly I grab the book and try to run back into the house through the backyard. The door nob jiggled but was locked.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, now unsteady because of the speed of my heart. From the other side of the building, I could hear the truck doors slamming close. It couldn't have been my farther because he didn't have a car. He wrecked it drunk driving years ago. Even if it was him, I didn't want to be anywhere near him if he was drunk enough to get a ride home.

"Fuck, Fuck, FUCK." I try the nob again, nothing changing. The only other way in was the front.

My phone grew warm in my pocket. I brought it out just in case I had to call someone. I freeze up when I hear multiple voices, only catching only little snippets of conversation.

"In the back-"

"...Fiesty-"

Then my dad's voice completely sober. "Get him inside."

By this time I was suspicious enough to be back on the other side of the house near the edge. My back and body was flat up against the wall, my head tilted slightly so I could see what was going on without them knowing about my presence.

Two men were getting out of a white Jeep. "Daniel, unlock the damn trunk."

Grumbling comes from one man as the trunk pops open. As soon as it does muffled yelling comes from their direction.

"Someone tie his hands," my dad says, his voice husk.

My eyes widen when I see exactly what they are talking about. Two out of the four men grab the boy out of the back of the car. He was thrashing around crazily.

"Get him in the house, make sure no on see's it. Especially your little bratt of a son Garrett."

"Hey, don't talk about my son that way."

"Whatever, get just get him in that celler."