Hello my name is: a PruCan fanfic

Chapter 4

I just have to make this clear. There are worse days then when my father decides to beat me.

I also have to make it clear, that my father isn't a complete monster. He doesn't neglect me, or beat me every second of the day. He isn't always drunk. He does try to support us both, but then again I guess that I should stop over shadowing the other thing and see him as an inhuman monster, but I can't.

My father went through a divorce, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was a decent man, with a decent job, and had a decent life. He couldn't stop my mom when she cheated on him, called a divorce and ripped one if his sons away never to be seen again.

Of course I inherited my mother's looks, even though I'm a guy. So every time he looked at me, I was a painful reminder of how his life fell apart. That's when the drinking started.

He was unable to bear looking at such a close resemblance without the alcohol, it was the only thing that kept him sane. Sadly when the alcohol started, so did the beating.

I don't blame him for what he does. I just hope he recovers soon. They are moments we still have hope though. They hold empty promises, but they are moments.....

__________________________

When I woke up, it was to the sound of crying. I knew exactly what was waiting for me.

Throwing on my school clothes I cautiously walked down. He was buzzed, and the sight of me ripped him away from memories, and sent him running my way.

Terror lit my chest as I ducked past him and into the closet holding the door shut before locking it. I installed the lock one time so I could delay a beating, or hide till he falls asleep. It's rare for me to get to the closet.

Quivering, I pull my knee's to my chest hugging them tightly. The pounding of his fist making contact with the door echo throughout the room like gunshots and I curl up further.

"MATTHEW GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THERE THIS INSTANT!"

I hear him shout and growl, an occasional kick to the door.

"You dirty, worthless, piece of crap! COME HERE!"

A kick to the door, just hard enough so the wood splints. Then it's quiet.

I hear the faint sound of crying after that, even more fear gripping me for what was to come next.

"Matthew?"

His voice was soft, unlike the way I've heard it in years. I knew a mini victory was coming again. A small recovery from all the anger.

"Matthew, oh God. I'm so sorry, please..... step out of the closet."

I reluctantly reach for the door, still shaking lightly. Then, I unlock it and swing it open.

What I see is my Father. Not the drunken man who beats me, not the one who can barely hold down his job, my actual Father. Who was crying.

I can't help but flinch when he approaches me, tears streaming over his cheeks as he knew he hurt his son. His son that was the last piece of his old family he had left.

"Matthew, I'm sorry, I don't know how.... you shouldn't forgive me. Oh God."

I let him hug me, the first gentle caress I've had from him in what seemed like decades. It was moment's like this I remembered I had an actual Father, and one day he would return to me. Before I can stop myself, I'm crying too.

__________________________

Getting on the school bus, I knew today was going to be bad. Alfred wasn't riding, and my seat was taken, along with his.

Puffing out my cheeks I look around spotting an empty seat and quickly sitting, keeping to myself as the ride goes on. Alfred never got sick, and wouldn't miss school because he had a football game tonight.....

Narrowing the choices down, my eyes get wide at the conclusion. Mom finally bought him the car he wanted.

The bus creeped to a stop and we all flooded out to the school grounds. Finally I found that some schedule changes were made so I could more easily avoid my offenders. Smiling as mine was virtually the same, I hear Gilbert cheer behind me:

"Woooo! No damn little kids! I only have one class with your fag of a cousin Francy Pants!"

I wince at the statement, one class with him is WAY too many.

Going throughout my day I find out that, that one class is still study hall. He managed to get his grade up enough to take the classes he was supposed to.

No matter how thick headed that kid was, he was smart. It was just if he decided to do his homework or not.

Me on the other hand, who should be a straight A student was slumping to the D's in math class and C's in science.

That was only because they put math in science.

So today when I enter my study hall, carrying my math, and determined to get an A. I freeze and narrow my eyes at the sight I'm presented.

Gilbert. In my spot. Doing a strip tease.

What. The. Hell?

He stares at me smirking and revealing a nipple before putting a hand over his mouth with an exaggerated gasp. Taking the hand away, he holds up the traditional middle finger and salutes me by waggling it back and forth in the air with a gesture that says:

No, no you naughty boy!

Before dropping his shirt in a normal position and laughing heartily at me in the strange "Keseseseseseses" tone.

Sighing I choose the desk farthest away and stare at my math, trying to get the image out of my mind. It was the only thing that I could think of though when I had to solve:

Yx+7=[6x(5+7y)]

He must have burned it in there or something.

Feeling myself tense up as he approached, I feel a hot breath on my ear as he whispers in a rough gravelly voice laced with a German accent.

"I saw you staring at me like the fag you are. I just want to tell you that you don't get to even think about doing your gay fag stuff with me."

Shoving me out of my desk he walks away. My face is pale as I return to my seat and rub my ear vigorously, trying to get the message out. No one must know.

Like I mentioned before, my school is very homophobic. I was also gay.