Azahar

Chapter 4

His morning started in the worst kind of way, as usual he woke up very early and prayed with his parents on the small church they had home. But he should had seen it coming when his parents barely spoke to him, nonetheless he brushed it off.

He was so into his thoughts he did not hear his mother calling him once as a warning, and so the second time he was grabbed from his collar by his father. His eyes widened at the action of being pulled backwards so suddenly.

His father threw him at the ground and he knew he had to kneel down and look down "Your mother was talking to you" he hissed infuriated.

Chris knew the reason why he was so mad, he understood it but no matter how much they told him to distance from the boy and go back to be his other self, he refused to let go of Minho.

Now his mother was standing in front of him "Yesterday I called your phone, but it was off" her tone was raising dangerously word by word.
"Why didn't you answer your phone, Christopher? What could be more important than your duties?" it was his father now speaking with a low tone.

After hearing them he knew he was down for one of his re-education. But it was fine he could bear it if that meant he could go see his angel later, no matter how many times his father hit him with that stick he would no give in.

She purses her lips displeased at her son's silence "You know what will happen now, right?" the woman walked calmly towards a small cabinet were there were different types of sticks, from wooden material to metal ones, that they used on him. They had a variety depending on the level of the punishment he will receive "Ignoring your duties is a big infraction" she picked up the metal one and gave it to her husband.
The man moved the metal bar from hand to hand "Take off your shirt" Chris knew how bad begging would work now, so he only complied to his demand and took it off "This hurts me more than it hurts you"

Chris would beg to differ, his plaid skin was already covered by several scars and purples due to their re-educations. The first hit was always the worst, it left his skin burning and numb at the same time, he bit down on his lip almost drawing blood from it to suffocate his screams.

He had stopped crying over this when he was barely nine years. Crying and begging would only increase his punishment, so he learnt fast what he could do and that it was better to keep in silence until the end of the punishment.

This time luckily it was light, only forty hits and he was free to go. Not before they told him to change his attitude, before people started to talk about him not going to church to help the priest and furthermore to get away from the sinner. That's what they called Minho.

If he had been brave enough he would had snap at them and told them he wouldn't drop Minho for them.

With shaky legs he stood up from the floor, when his parents abandoned the room. He stumbled towards his room and closed his door, now in the solitude of his room he struggled to keep up the composure, because lately it seemed to be faltering.

After meeting Minho he started to feel again and thus why he was suffering the consequences of being alive. It was becoming harder for him to stand his ground, to keep up the mask, mostly when he was around his angel.

Minho was his healing, with so little he was able to lift his burden and make him feel at peace. Even though he should start asking how someone could change his demeanor with a simple smile, he just couldn't, because that would lead to shaky grounds and for now he had his cup full.

-ooo-

His back was still under so much pain, but he walked with steady steps towards the school. Due to the punishment and him having to take care of the wounds he was late, but he didn't mind. At that moment school was not his priority.