Short Stories

4.) Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater

12/27/15 A/N: I wrote this chapter around the end of 2014, and I didn't understand some things that I do now. If you are reading this, be prepared for non-consensual sex in this particular chapter.

I hope you know my plan is to rewrite all of these, I'm in the process of that right now. I'm on the 2nd short story, so please give me time. I'm sorry these aren't that good, I'm trying to make them better. Sorry for them being disturbing, and for my disturbing grammar and writing skills. I don't think the stories are horrible, but the way I've written them definitely isn't the best, so please be patient so I can fix them and make them better. Thank you so much for reading, I really do appreciate it.

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4.) Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater

(Kyle's Point of View...)

I slide my hand over the silky sheets, hoping it's different this time.

The space beside me is empty, and I slowly open my eyes. What a surprise.

I know what this means, it's stored in the back of my head, but I just won't believe it.

I'm probably just paranoid...

I sit up, moving the covers aside and standing up. I walk to the other side of the room, pulling on some clean briefs before dodging all the clothes scattered around from last night.

A yawn escapes me as I brew some coffee, deep in thought.

He just wakes up earlier than me; he probably went out somewhere to get breakfast. It's a perfectly valid and sensible reason. Besides, last night he was much more passionate than usual... that has to mean something. We've been dating for 5 years—that has to mean something. He loves me... that has to mean something.

And I'll always love him. I'll always love him after all he's done for me, for all he does for me, for all he did to me. He gave me a home when I... really didn't have one. And I don't think I'll ever be able to thank him enough for helping me.

🎃  🎃  🎃  🎃

"Hey, mom, I'm home." I say as I walk into the house and shut the door behind me.

She scowls at me, the disgust clear on her face. "Don't even call me that, I don't need a reminder that I've birthed a sick devil like you." She snarls and my eyes widen. What did I do?

"What? What do you mean?"

"I heard you and your 'friend' last night, 'talking'." She sneers, blatant contempt in her eyes and on her face.

My eyes widen from the accusation and I take a step back, my face flushing in humiliation.

"You're a disgusting faggot; get the hell out of my house! How dare you undertake the acts of the devil in this threshold?! If only your father were here to knock some sense into you! You revolting, disgusting freak! You're going to burn in hell!" She screams at me before she stomps forward. Her hand roughly slaps against my cheek and my head jerks to the side from the force of it.

I back away from her, staring at her with tears in my eyes as I hold my burning cheek.

"B-But, M-Mom... I'm still your son, I'm still your straight 'a' student! I haven't changed!" I defend myself but I know it's no use.

"I said: DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She steps forward again with a look of pure rage on her face. She clenches her fist and repeatedly slams it on me while I try to block it, grimacing with each hit.