Love is Painful

Broken Pigeon Wings

Travis's POV
I sit up in bed, pain drilling into my skull and causing me to whimper.  I look across the room and into the mirror.  Nasty bruises border my cheeks.  My left eye is black and purple, swollen nearly shut.  A scab forms across the bridge of my nose.  Pain echoes throughout my entire body. 

I hear a knock at my door, causing my head to throb.  It's not Father, because he never knocks.  He just barges in like he feels as if I don't deserve privacy.  Therefore, it is probably Mother.  "Come in," I mutter, my voice hoarse from crying out of pain.  The door knob turns, and there in my doorway, stands a small figure.  A boy, a very beautiful boy with blue eyes, blue hair, and tiny hands.  Sal. 

My face flushes pink, and a faint smile blossoms on my cheeks.  "Uh, um, hey Sal," I stutter, grinning awkwardly.  As soon as he sees me, his eyes widen and he pulls his hand up to his mouth- well, his mask.  I look at him in confusion.  "What's wrong?" I spit out, the smile vanishing from my face.  He rushes over to me and takes a seat next to me, the bed creaking under his weight.  "Travis, your face!" he shrieks, stretching his hand out to touch my cheek.  I smack his hand out of the way, blushing.  "I'm fine, really," I interrupt him.  He cocks his head slightly and gives me eyes that show that he cares.  "Travis," he murmurs, laying his hand on mine, "you can tell me."  I clench my teeth, choking back tears.  "I said I'm fine!  I just fell," I retorted.  Sal sighs and retreats his hand, scratching his head.  "I won't push," he says, "but I'd like for you to tell me." 

I sigh heavily, flicking a teardrop off of my cheek.  I look over at Sal.  He looks sad.  He's just sitting there with his head down, picking at the skin on his fingernails.  He deserves to know.  He needs to know why I'm so broken.

"Ok, I'll tell you," I sigh, fiddling with the cross necklace hanging around my neck.  Sal perks up and turns to face me.  He takes my hand and rubs it.  I turn red and want to pull away, but he's so comforting.  Tears form in the corner of my eyes.  "Father," I begin, my stomach churning with anxiety, "he's the preacher at the church here.  You know that."  Sal nods.  "Well, he's pretty strict about how I live.  And sometimes, when I don't obey him, he... he abuses me.  That's what this is."  I point at my bruised face.  Sal looks down at the floor.  He's quiet for quite some time before speaking again. 

"Travis," he stutters at last, "I- I'm sorry about your dad.  I can't do anything about that, and I'm sorry.  And I understand that you abusing me was just how you got your anger and pain out."  He looks me in the eyes, his glassy blue eyes shimmering with tears.  I look down, embarrassed.

A long silence lingers around us for quite a while.

"Travis," Sal says at last.  I raise my head to look at him.  "You told me something deep about yourself.  So, I guess, I should too." He whispers.  I watch him closely, my eyes widening, as he reaches his hand up to the back of his mask.  He unfastens the buckles with a click and drops his mask.  I widen my eyes in shock.  To my surprise, he's not ugly.  He's just... different.  Nasty scars cover his entire face.  Some of his nose is missing, exposing the cartilage.  His mouth is cut open, showing his gums and teeth.    As horrifying as he is to look at, he's still almost beautiful.  Maybe It's just because I love him so much.  I don't care that he's stereotypically ugly.  He's beautiful to me. 

Tears trickle down his face.  I look at him sadly.  "Sal," I whisper.  He looks up at me, wiping his tears.  I smile.  "You're still beautiful."  He gives me a melancholic smile that warms my heart and causing me to burst out in tears. 

Suddenly, he leans in.  I feel his warm, soft lips against my own.  I kiss back, placing my hands on his face.  He reaches his arms up and drapes them over my shoulders.  We stay this way for quite some time, with our lips sealed and are arms around each other.  It's absolutely amazing.  He's amazing.  I love it.

I love him.