I've become used to this feeling, this guy penetrating me from behind forearm on my neck barely being able to breath. I lie here lifeless and wait for it to be over. Why does this happen to me? Am I the only one who lives with his predator? Is it because I'm gay? My mind wonders every time he abuses me, makes the time go by faster. I can feel his semen shooting up my anus. "Ughhhhh!" He moans and grunts as his sweat drips on my neck. He whispers "go shower you nasty bitch" and kisses my ear. I pull up my pants and watch him leave.
As I run the water to get in the shower, I can hear the front door slamming shut. "Mom must be home" I mumble, "stupid bitch" how can you sleep with a guy that abuses your son? You must know something is going on, you can't be that stupid. I scrub as hard as I can, trying to get the filth from Steve off of my body. "One day I'm gonna kill that fucker." All this I say low enough that I barely can hear myself. The shower is the only place I escape the bullshit. I stay in another thirty minutes hoping they would start dinner without me.
"Hey baby!" my mom greets me as soon as I open the bathroom door. "Hey ma" I say nonchalantly. "Now what did you do all day?" She asked. "Nothing! That lazy fucker stayed in that room all day" Steve answered before I could speak. "Uh, I do believe I was talking to James." She said giving him the evil eye. "Not much ma, just been working on my poems and music." I replied. "Well get to the table, it's time for dinner." The worst part of my day, sitting with my abuser.
