Sorrow Swallows My Screams
Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight:
Zacky’s POV:
Okay, so I didn’t ask Brian if he wanted to have sex. That was too open. Besides, I didn’t want to have sex with him. Well, I did, but… you know. (And I will also take this chance to remind you once again how bad I feel about feeling this way about another guy so shortly after Mikey’s death…)
What I did ask was, “Brian, do you like me-?”
“What? Of course I like you, Zacky!”
“No,” I said quietly, “I-I meant… in that way…”
I didn’t know what I was doing. I couldn’t stop myself from asking that question, and then I couldn’t stop myself from getting up and running away.
I truly had nowhere to go but home. I began to run there, this time outrunning a stunned Brian, who remained sitting on the ground. When I was confident that he wasn’t going to come after me, I slowed my pace to a walk. I rounded a corner, into an alleyway that acts as a shortcut to my house. And who do I see?
Gerard.
Yes, Mikey's brother, Gerard. Remember, he hates my guts. Blames me for Mikey’s suicide, ya know?
As soon as he spotted me, I knew I was not in a good situation. I was about to run back out of the alleyway, back to Brian, but before I could even move Gerard had tackled me to the ground. His fist collided with my face and all I could feel was the pain.
“You go and drive my brother to fucking suicide and then you got out and finding another fucking fag to fuck! You fucking fag! Who do you think you are!? You ruined Mikey’s life, and you ruined mine! He was my little brother, I loved him so much! And then you have the fucking nerve to go and find someone else to be your boy toy, two fucking weeks later! You sick fuck! I fucking hate you!” Gerard screamed.
He punched me a few more times in the face, hard, then left me lying in the alleyway, all alone. I think I was in somewhat of a shocked state. I mean, I knew he hated me, but…
And how the fuck did he know about Bri? Not that I was doing what he was accusing me of… though I wanted to…
But how did he know that I was hanging out with someone? And what made him think that that meant I was doing naughty things with that someone? Because I wasn’t. No, not at all.
Though, none of that was what I was really focussing on at that time. My face hurt like hell. Gerard can really throw a punch. Tears were trickling down my face. I tried to get up, but felt dizzy and light headed. I lay in the alleyway for about another ten minutes before I attempted to get up again. When I did, my head throbbed madly. It was now that I decided I really didn’t want to go home. My head hurt bad enough, without the added risk of my dad being there when I got home and making it worse. And by worse, I mean worse.
So I decided I’d head back to the park. I didn’t know whether I’d find Brian there or not, but either way, it was better than going home, I realised now. I made my way back to the park, and scanned the area to see if Brian was still around.
He was.
I decided to go sit over there with him, despite my stupidity before. I walked up behind him, then took a seat on the cool grass, trying to wipe away the eyeliner that had run down my face when I had been crying.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
“Hey-Zacky! What happened?”
“G-Gerard,” I whispered. I’d told him about Gerard, so he knew who I was talking about.
“You’re bleeding.”
I nodded slightly. Brian stood up, and extended a hand to help me up. I took a hold of his horny hand… okay, so he didn’t have a rough hand, but… eh. Hmm… yes, I have a slightly perverted mind… images…
Okay, so I took a hold of his soft hand, which felt as if it were moisturised on a daily basis, hourly even. Though I though that unlikely. We let go of each other’s hands once I was standing, but he made me rest a hand on his shoulder as we were walking, to make it easier, or something like that, even though it was my face that hurt and my legs were only a little bit sore from when Gerard had initially tackled me.
When we arrived at Brian’s house I felt a little nervous about going inside. I didn’t really want to see Brian’s dad, because of… you know why. Just a little uncomfortable, I’d imagine. I followed Brian straight up to his room, where he sat me down on his bed, taking a seat next to me. He began to inspect my face, standing up to retrieve a tissue from across the room. He handed it to me and told me to wipe some of the blood up with it. He then told me he was going downstairs to get the first aid kit. I waited on his bed, dabbing at my nose and mouth, where a majority of the blood was coming from.
He came back into his room a few minutes later, a little kit in his hand: the first aid kit. He had a cloth draped over his arm, which he held in his hand and told me to put the tissue down. He kneeled down in front of me and used the cloth to clean my face up before applying a bandaid to a cut on my forehead. He sat the kit down on his bed, to one side of me, and then sat down on the other.
“Zacky, I’m sorry that this happened…”
“Brian, you didn’t do anything.”
“I shouldn’t have let you run off like that, I should have told you what I was going to before.”
“Yeah? And what was that?” I prepared myself for him telling me that I was a dumb, depressed fag who would be better off if actually had have managed to kill himself instead of being a fuckin' failure at that, too.
“Zacky, I do…” Brian began. “I do have feelings for you. I didn’t want to come out and say anything like this, I didn’t want to risk our friendship, after all that’s happened to you. And besides, we haven’t known each other for very long, and I thought it might be a bit weird to just confess my feelings for you after… what you’ve been through.
“You… you have feelings for m-me?” He nodded. I didn’t know what to say or do. He, however, answered that, by pressing his soft, warm lips ever so lightly against my own.
Zacky’s POV:
Okay, so I didn’t ask Brian if he wanted to have sex. That was too open. Besides, I didn’t want to have sex with him. Well, I did, but… you know. (And I will also take this chance to remind you once again how bad I feel about feeling this way about another guy so shortly after Mikey’s death…)
What I did ask was, “Brian, do you like me-?”
“What? Of course I like you, Zacky!”
“No,” I said quietly, “I-I meant… in that way…”
I didn’t know what I was doing. I couldn’t stop myself from asking that question, and then I couldn’t stop myself from getting up and running away.
I truly had nowhere to go but home. I began to run there, this time outrunning a stunned Brian, who remained sitting on the ground. When I was confident that he wasn’t going to come after me, I slowed my pace to a walk. I rounded a corner, into an alleyway that acts as a shortcut to my house. And who do I see?
Gerard.
Yes, Mikey's brother, Gerard. Remember, he hates my guts. Blames me for Mikey’s suicide, ya know?
As soon as he spotted me, I knew I was not in a good situation. I was about to run back out of the alleyway, back to Brian, but before I could even move Gerard had tackled me to the ground. His fist collided with my face and all I could feel was the pain.
“You go and drive my brother to fucking suicide and then you got out and finding another fucking fag to fuck! You fucking fag! Who do you think you are!? You ruined Mikey’s life, and you ruined mine! He was my little brother, I loved him so much! And then you have the fucking nerve to go and find someone else to be your boy toy, two fucking weeks later! You sick fuck! I fucking hate you!” Gerard screamed.
He punched me a few more times in the face, hard, then left me lying in the alleyway, all alone. I think I was in somewhat of a shocked state. I mean, I knew he hated me, but…
And how the fuck did he know about Bri? Not that I was doing what he was accusing me of… though I wanted to…
But how did he know that I was hanging out with someone? And what made him think that that meant I was doing naughty things with that someone? Because I wasn’t. No, not at all.
Though, none of that was what I was really focussing on at that time. My face hurt like hell. Gerard can really throw a punch. Tears were trickling down my face. I tried to get up, but felt dizzy and light headed. I lay in the alleyway for about another ten minutes before I attempted to get up again. When I did, my head throbbed madly. It was now that I decided I really didn’t want to go home. My head hurt bad enough, without the added risk of my dad being there when I got home and making it worse. And by worse, I mean worse.
So I decided I’d head back to the park. I didn’t know whether I’d find Brian there or not, but either way, it was better than going home, I realised now. I made my way back to the park, and scanned the area to see if Brian was still around.
He was.
I decided to go sit over there with him, despite my stupidity before. I walked up behind him, then took a seat on the cool grass, trying to wipe away the eyeliner that had run down my face when I had been crying.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
“Hey-Zacky! What happened?”
“G-Gerard,” I whispered. I’d told him about Gerard, so he knew who I was talking about.
“You’re bleeding.”
I nodded slightly. Brian stood up, and extended a hand to help me up. I took a hold of his horny hand… okay, so he didn’t have a rough hand, but… eh. Hmm… yes, I have a slightly perverted mind… images…
Okay, so I took a hold of his soft hand, which felt as if it were moisturised on a daily basis, hourly even. Though I though that unlikely. We let go of each other’s hands once I was standing, but he made me rest a hand on his shoulder as we were walking, to make it easier, or something like that, even though it was my face that hurt and my legs were only a little bit sore from when Gerard had initially tackled me.
When we arrived at Brian’s house I felt a little nervous about going inside. I didn’t really want to see Brian’s dad, because of… you know why. Just a little uncomfortable, I’d imagine. I followed Brian straight up to his room, where he sat me down on his bed, taking a seat next to me. He began to inspect my face, standing up to retrieve a tissue from across the room. He handed it to me and told me to wipe some of the blood up with it. He then told me he was going downstairs to get the first aid kit. I waited on his bed, dabbing at my nose and mouth, where a majority of the blood was coming from.
He came back into his room a few minutes later, a little kit in his hand: the first aid kit. He had a cloth draped over his arm, which he held in his hand and told me to put the tissue down. He kneeled down in front of me and used the cloth to clean my face up before applying a bandaid to a cut on my forehead. He sat the kit down on his bed, to one side of me, and then sat down on the other.
“Zacky, I’m sorry that this happened…”
“Brian, you didn’t do anything.”
“I shouldn’t have let you run off like that, I should have told you what I was going to before.”
“Yeah? And what was that?” I prepared myself for him telling me that I was a dumb, depressed fag who would be better off if actually had have managed to kill himself instead of being a fuckin' failure at that, too.
“Zacky, I do…” Brian began. “I do have feelings for you. I didn’t want to come out and say anything like this, I didn’t want to risk our friendship, after all that’s happened to you. And besides, we haven’t known each other for very long, and I thought it might be a bit weird to just confess my feelings for you after… what you’ve been through.
“You… you have feelings for m-me?” He nodded. I didn’t know what to say or do. He, however, answered that, by pressing his soft, warm lips ever so lightly against my own.