Save You From Him

I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back. I chant in my head as my brother drags me out of the club. My heart is hammering in my chest as my brother drags me towards his crappy car.

"Get in the car fag," my brother, Kyle, slurs. Oh no, I think about running but I know that's a lost cause because A) He'll catch me and B) By some miracle that I do get away it will only be worse for me later.

So I whimper and get into the passenger side. All I can think is that I'm going home and that's something I do not want to do. At all.

So I close my eyes and think of something else. I think of that guy I met at the club, Chase. He was beautiful. I could get lost in those dark blue eyes of his. He seemed really nice. But I've come to the conclusion that meeting people at a club is not the best idea.

I open my eyes and the air leaves my body as I see that we are near our house. I can't breathe.

I DON'T WANT TO GO IN THERE!!!! I shout in my head. But I can't stop it.

Kyle sloppily parks in our driveway and gets out the car. He slams the car door and walks over to my side. He throws open my door and pulls me out, dragging me in to our house.

Once inside he throws me onto the living room floor and stands over me.

"So you thought you could get away from me," Kyle slurs. I shake my head viciously. "You thought you could run away from me FAG!"

Before I can say anything or shake my head he kicks me in my stomach. Hard. I let out a cry of pain. Tears are falling down my face.

"N-n-no," I stutter. "P-please K-kyle. I-I wasn't trying to run a-away from you."

"STOP LYING," he shouts.

That's where it begins. The beating.

The punches and the kicks. They hurt like hell. But I'm used to it. So I do what I always do. I go to my happy place. Which is with my parents. Just thinking about them makes me numb.

After half an hour of my beating Kyle finally stops and sits in his chair to watch T.v. I don't want to just lay there near him. So I start to crawl. I crawl all the way to the kitchen, where the door to the basement is. I put my hand on the counter near me and pull myself up. I hiss at the pain in my stomach and legs and arms.

But I'm used to it. I grab the doorknob and open the door. I walk down the stairs slowly until I reach the bottom. I collapse onto my bed and begin to sob. I hate this. I want my parents. I want them to be hear with me.

I stop sobbing when I feel my cellphone vibrate in my pants pocket. I grab for it, hoping that it's Jay, my best friend. I look at the cracked screen that I assume just got there. It's a text from a number I don't know. I open the text message and actually smile a little.

Hey Terry. It's Chase.