Alone

Chapter One- Andy

I want someone to be my friend. I want someone to be able to love me for who I am. I am sick and tired of hiding myself. I want someone to be able to see my vulnerable side. I want someone to stand up for me when I am being bullied. I want someone who will love me, hold me and tell me that everything will be alright. However, I don't deserve that type of happiness.

I wish I could be the son my father wants me to be. Maybe life would be so much better if I was athletic and into girls... I can't help being me. I can't take back the moment I told him I was gay.

"Andrew. Get your arse down here, NOW." I jerked and ran downstairs.

"You filthy, lazy fag. You haven't cleaned the house" he yells, throwing an empty whiskey bottle at my face. "I've got friends coming over."

I wince, feeling the glass cut my cheek. 'Friends'. By that, he means men from the pub down the street who he gets drunk with.

"I'm sorry." I whimper.

"Sorry what, Andrew?" he yanks my shoulder back and spits on me.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Look me in the eye when I'm talking to you. I ask little of you. You don't know how lucky you are to have a roof over your head. You ungrateful boy. What did I do to deserve a rubbish son like you?" he slurs, still drunk from the night before.

I know what's coming. I try to run but I'm always too late. He holds me tight as he removes his belt. I start shaking as he raises the belt and I prepare for the pain. The belt slashes down on my already torn shirt. Drops of blood drip on the floor and I feel dizzy as I try to stand up.

"You're no son of mine." he delivers one last punch to my jaw before letting me slump onto the floor. He ambles off and collapses onto the couch to sleep off his drunkenness.

I get up slowly and quietly, creeping back upstairs to change my clothes and wipe my face and back. I can't bear to look at the previous gashes on my back and shoulders. There is a dark bruises already forming on my jaw.

I pull a hoodie over my shirt and run out of the house. The day is not over yet. I've still got to deal with the bullies at school.

As I approach the school gate, I look around and I don't see anyone. Maybe, just maybe, they'll leave me alone today. That tiny flicker of hope fades as I see the one person I can never trust. Ryan.

"Oi, you queer. Did you think we forgot about you?" he snickers. He grabs my bag and empties it. My eyes start to water. He hasn't even hurt me yet.

Ryan approaches me and punches me twice in the stomach. I reel in pain. He and his mates start laughing. He then reaches out to grab my shoulder but he doesn't even yank it hard. I cry out in pain, the deep gash from this morning, stinging. The symbol written in blood that my father left. His mates laugh again but he doesn't.

I take that moment to gather my belongings and scramble away. I dare to look back and I see him staring after me with a strange look on his face that I've never seen before. Pity.