Ne Ver Na Boysia Ne Prosi

As I lied on the beige carpet, I wondered what would be happening to me if I wasn't gay or living in a homophobic family. My mouth tasted of metal, and the warm blood exited out through my lips in small drops. Dad kicks me in the stomach, causing more pain.

"No son of mine is going through damnation because of your so called 'love,'" he growls at me. He didn't get it. Mom didn't get it. Sam didn't get it. I loved another boy, because I felt love for the first time in my life. My life, ruled by the ten commandments and psalms that claim to save your life, it was very, very, hateful and cruel.

"'Thou shall not lie with another man.' Don't you remember that, boy?" he growls at me again with another kick. This time, in the ribs. Now, my Dad was calling me "boy" and not Liam. My name is Liam, dammit. It's not "boy."

I hear leather slip fast across fabric and I prepare my mentality for the worst. The leather of his belt stings across my back and arms. Why doesn't he just kill me now? I'm doomed to go to an eternal pit of fire and being torn apart by demons while being defecated on by Lucifer. This, this is just madness and I'm not doing anything about it.

After twenty or more strikes of the belt, he left me alone in my suffering. My shirt was ripped in some places and my back stung as if someone burned me. The metallic taste was still in my mouth and I see that I stained the carpet.

"I forbid you to come out of your room until I tell you to," he said as he looped the belt through his khaki pants. I lie on the ground, defenseless and beaten. I shit you not, this was a big bitch of life to deal with.

I limp up the stairs and into my room, where my posters of t. A. T. u, Gwen Stefani, and even my sketches of some clothes I hoped to design, were torn off of the black painted walls. My walls were bare, and even my mom had stolen all of the demo tapes Gerard, Bill, Strify, Pete, and the rest let me listen to. My parents thought that they were corrupting me, and they told their parents.

I think they're suffering the same as I am, but then again...Strify and Bill and the rest are from Germany. Don't they get a slap on the wrist?

I lie on the bare mattress that used to have pink comforters and black silk pillows. Now, it was just an ugly shade of blue. But, they didn't know, I was planning for this day. This day where I would escape and they would never want me to come back. I push my desk sideways to the closet door and tap the floorboards lightly. A hollow sound came from one of the panels and I smile. I let my long fingernails dig into the thin crack and lift up the wood panel.

A gym bag and a messenger bag were bound in clear plastic trash bags. I pull them up and unwrap them. I check the messenger bag first. There was one hundred fifty dollars in cash, an extra SIM card, a credit card that I applied for after my birthday, and a picture of all of us, together and happy, before we were separated. The gym bag carried all of the old baggy clothes Tom let me have. Even all of the guys gave me some clothes (but some were thrown away).

I take the two bags and unlock the window then climb out carefully and avoiding to make any large sounds. Now, I was home free, and nothing could stop me from going away from this place.