Journal (Boyxboy)

Untitled Part 8

When I looked up I saw my brother standing over my father who was on the ground. "I can't believe you. All of you! You disowned your kid for being gay?" my brother was murderous, this time towards everyone else. "He's your fucking SON. Look at what you did to him! You're all pathetic, and he's not going to hell... you all are."

Mark stormed up to me and took my arm, pulling me up with a lot of force that I almost fell. "Let's go Brian. I'm going with you." He growled dangerously. I looked wide eyed at everyone and took him outside. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry." He bent my neck so he could see the bleeding spot. "What happened?"

"Nothing, it's not important right now." I sighed. "Let's just get out of here before father wakes up and stuff. I don't like staying here." He nodded sternly and climbed on the back of my motorcycle once I got on.

"This is where you live?" he said when I stopped outside the house. It wasn't that nice, but it was a home.

"Yes. Its better inside I guess." I shrugged and opened the door for him. When I did open it I heard feet storming up towards us, "Shit."

"What happened to you? Who is that? Why the HELL did you just leave like that?" Ryan flew questions at me and shook me wildly.

"I got punched, this is my brother and I had to go get him." I answered quickly and got out of his hold. "Guys meet my brother Mark, Mark meet Ryan and Wes." They looked at each other and sized each other up.

"Now tell me what the hell happened to you," Mark ordered me once they were finished. I winced and turned to the kitchen. "Don't stall. I know you will."

"Guys I'm sorry for rushing off like that but I needed to go." I sighed, "Ryan, come back tomorrow morning, I could... explain later. Wes come along again if you wish. But I have to talk to my brother."

They glared at me, arms crossed, looking like statues. I chuckled lightly and tried to hide it. "Fine." Ryan said, "I'll be back same time."

I nodded at them and said a quickie goodbye. Mark was waiting in my kitchen, sitting at the table and looking for me. He stared and I winced.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Why are you so skinny? I've never seen you so thin in my life. A few years ago you were like... like me!" he looked at me in shock.

"Stopped eating, stopped working out." I looked nervously down at my hands.

"What happened to you Brian." His voice was soft, almost unrecognizable. "I don't even see the real you."

"I-I, sis died. You went off to the army and turned up MIA... the family abandoned me. I do-didn't want to live." I corrected myself. "I came here and after I stopped football, people just became nasty as I got skinnier and unrecognizable, people realized I was gay and stared, or they wrote things, said things. It- it was too much."

It took a lot not to cry but I did it. I didn't cry. I was proud of myself and glad I told him the truth; I didn't want to lie to him.

"W-what happened to your neck?" his voice was thick and I looked up quickly to see he was almost crying. It was a surprise, he never cried and he was always the strongest. I couldn't believe it.

I lowered the turtle neck a little and let him see the bandage over my neck. His eyes got wide and he looked up at me in worry. "It wasn't me... I was walking home after I had to go over to Ryan's house for a project and I was attacked. The guy slit my throat; I attacked back and stabbed him in the stomach. They caught him, but earlier today I had an accident and the stiches busted, so it had them restitched."

He watched me and sighed hugely. "Are you getting help or anything?"

"I have a therapist I've been with for almost two years." I shrugged. "She's like the mom I never had."