FREE THE DOVES || H.S

11 | Yolk Dripping Down The White Walls

THE 'BACKSIDE' OF THE LAKE, 1964

HE STOOD IN THE DIRT tears streaming down his face begging and pleading with the three larger boys in front of him. In their hand was a fluffy white cat. It meowed and struggled to get out of the grip of the dark-haired boy with the gelled hair.

"Come on little yellow you wanna help the cat then come and get it." The boy who was known by all the kids as Tee said in a dark haunting voice. His two little side kicks stood next to him. One manically laughed and holding a paint can in his stout hands (known as Big Hen) and the other was watching with such attentiveness it was a bit concerning. He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together as if he just couldn't wait to see what was about to happen, (known as Gore).

"C'mon he aint doin' nothin' bout it, just do it already," Gore said impatiently.

"Little yellow," Tee looked at the metal name tag hooked onto the red collar around the cat's neck, "Miss Whiskies? Did you name this thing?"

He was in too much distress to answer. His brain was mangled. Way too many thoughts were entering and none of them were exiting. It was so overcrowded responses weren't even a possibility for him. Instead he just nodded his head, wiping his runny nose with the abnormally long rain coat sleeve he was wearing.

"God that's so fruity. Are you a fruit? Are you a fuckin' fairy or somethin' you sure do look the part softy."

His eyes widened in shock and he shook his head in anguish.

GAY.

The single worst word you could be called in the whole wide world.

"Well gay boy Miss Whiskies here is bout to get a haircut." Just as he said that Gore pulled out a metal butterfly knife which he instantly flung open.

"No!" was the little boys first response, curly hair falling onto his forehead as he lurched forward in an attempt to grab the cat which was unsuccessful. This made Tee smile. He put his hand on his chest and pushed the fragile boy backwards.

"Okay Missy yellow fruitcake you've convinced me," he passed the cat to Big Hen who dropped the paint can in his hand and when it began to roll away, Gore quickly caught it and held it by the handle with his skinny arms.

"Instead of giving the cat the hair cut I'll give you one."

Again, this took a moment for the boy to process and once he did it was too late. Tee had him in his grasp, his forearm against his neck as he held him from behind. "Pass me the knife," he said and Gore complied as the little scrawny boy tried his best to get away but he never did.

Tee cut off globs of his hair as Gore assisted with making sure the boy couldn't interfere with the process. With each lock of hair that was cut the yellow boy who was basically drowning in his oversized rain coat cried and cried until he fell silent and listened to the knife slice the hair. He could feel Tee basically ripping his hair from his scalp since the knife was tricky to use and not meant to be doing this kind of thing. Streams of tears ran down his face as he watched his hair he had planned on growing out blow away down the dirt road never to be seen again.

Once Tee was finished, he threw him to the ground where he roughly landed in the wet mud. He couldn't even look up. There was too much embarrassment. He felt so degraded and powerless. He felt stupid and weak.

"That's better," Tee said throwing the knife back to Gore who juggled it in his hands for a few moments before getting a proper grip on the thing.

There were still long strands of hair on the boy's head. Just big patches missing from his red skull. It couldn't be saved. He would haft to shave it all off.