The Mafia's Flower Boy

Chapter 6

I don't know how, but we end up in my kitchen with a first aid kit on the table, and me on the counter. He looks at me with the softest eyes I've seen him adorn thus far. "I'm gonna take your shirt off so I can help clean you up, okay?" He asks, in the softest voice ever.

I nod slowly, my face completely blank as my mind is still disassociating heavily. He takes a deep breath in and slowly releases it, before gingerly taking a hold of the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head. Once it's dropped to the ground and he assesses the damage, I notice his breath hitch. "I'm gonna have to disinfect the area, it might sting a little bit, okay?" He asks in the same soft tone, like he's scared that I'm going to break at any moment. I once again nod my head and watch as he grabs a washcloth, wetting it slightly. When it passes over my chest I wince slightly at the pain it causes, but continue to stay silent. As he continues to patch me up; applying burn cream onto my chest, bandaging it, and getting ice to hold on top for swelling; he gently lets me know what is happening next, as not to startle me.

When he's done taking care of my burn, his fingers stutter as they pass over my chest, tracing a scar that sits on my right pectoral. I know that he can feel the raised, jagged skin as his eyes pry into my soul, searching for something he has no business looking for. His mouth opens, and I know the next thing to come out, so before he can begin, I put an end to it.

I grab his hand and push it away; jumping down from the counter, I walk to the front door and open it. "Thank you for your help, you may go now." There's no emotion in my voice as I say it, and I stare at him with deeply inanimate eyes, not letting my facial expression break. He sighs quietly, his shoulders sagging as he shuffles forward, hesitantly. I almost crumble when his body pauses in the frame, his eyes sliding over my body before landing on my own. The dark pools swim with emotion: sadness, anger, despair, and surprisingly, concern is the most evident. His fingers twitch and it looks like he's going to try and reach for me once more, but decides against it as he mumbles a quick "Please be safe, I'll see you later," and continues down the stairs.

I shut the door and lock it as quickly as I can as my body shudders with sobs and they tumble from my mouth. I don't remember moving, but suddenly I'm under my covers, curled into a ball as my body trembles and shakes. The only sound that fills my room for hours is the sound of my sniffles and cries. I gasp for air, not being able to fulfill my own needs, not being able to find salvation. As I feel heavy and pass out from exhaustion, my mind flashes to sinister smiles and evil eyes.

When I wake up again my skull feels like it's going to split from the pain blossoming underneath its surface, rolling through my frontal lobe like an earthquake. My body is covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and my mouth is impossibly dry. My brain is foggy and I temporarily feel relief as I can't remember what I was crying about before it all floods back to me. My breath hitches and I run to the bathroom, narrowly making it before I empty my stomach contents into the toilet. Luckily I had barely eaten in since the last time I was throwing up so not much came up, it was mainly dry heaving. As I sat there on the floor my mind filled itself with hateful thoughts and repressed memories.

My breathing became more labored as dark figures moved across my vision and sardonic laughter filled my ears. My eyes dart around frantically, my nails clawing at my naked stomach. Thoughts race through my mind, voices spitting out words at me. Filthy. Faggot. Better off dead. Safety, I need to find safety. Vile creature. What kind of person likes that? You're not even human. My hands find the knob to the bath and I fill it with hot water. Disgusting. Repulsive. Waste of space. I climb in, my pants clinging to my body. The water sloshes around, falling over the edge a bit and I come to my senses long enough to turn it off. No one wants you. No one cares. My skin burns, my bandages quickly soak through and my abdomen feels like it's on fire. Tears come to my eyes, falling down my flushed cheeks immediately and I almost don't even notice. Who would touch such a disgusting thing like you? Who would love you in such a repulsive way? No one. No one wants you. No one loves you. My head falls to the side and I catch a glimpse of my salvation. It's beautiful, shiny and smooth. I feel the weight of it in my hand, the cold material feels refreshing against my blistering hot skin.