Bruised | ✔️

"Get out" (6) *edited*

A/N: So, usually my chapters are between 3 and 4 thousand words long but between school just starting and volleyball practice after that I may just cut back to a little over a thousand words per chapter. Okay, on with chapter 6. P

P.s. Don't hate me.

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Brett

I was kissing Alex on my bed right when my mother decided to walk in on us snogging off.

"Brett Edgar Anderson. What is the meaning of this?!" She exclaims. I try to think of a reasonable explanation as to why I'm kissing my "friend", as she knows, on my bed. I sit up from over Alex and prepare to explain.

"Mom," I start explaining, putting my hands up as if she'd pounce at any given moment. "Alex he.." I looked over to my boyfriend who's sitting up watching as I say, "he made me."

My mother buys it.

She stands there with her hands on her hips for a moment and then looks to Alex with a cold glare.

"You mean to tell me, that you made my straight son kiss you on purpose? Pack your things. You're going back to your father's house."

Alex, I can tell, is at loss for words. He is staring at me with such a sad look that I have to turn away. I feel bad for what I had told my mother. But I had to.

Alex angrily gets up from the bed, with tears staining his cheeks, and stuffs his clothes back into the duffel bag that he had brought with him. He gives me one more cold look and then exits.

My mother watches him leave with the same disappointed look plastered on her wrinkled face. Before she walks out she turns to me and says, "My son will not be a faggot like him."

⭕⭕

Alex

I hate him. I hate him with all my guts. I hate him with every cell in my body. I hate him like cats hate dogs. I hate him with every other word that means hate. Despise. I cannot stand to even breathe the same air.

He just sold me out like that, like my feelings didn't matter, like he was trying to save his ass from getting beat. Well, guess who actually got the literal beating when he got home. I can barely walk. Or talk. Or even stand.

My right eye is bruised. My left eye is swollen. My rib cage is, I'm pretty sure, cracked. My nose is swollen and had just stopped bleeding, after about twenty minutes, it may be broken. I have one chipped tooth and my mouth still tastes like metal due to the blood.

I don't think I should show up at school looking like this. I doubt I could even face being in the same building with Brett now. I still can't believe he'd do that to me. And for what? To save himself. Unbelievable.

My father walks through my bedroom door and looks at me with a sickly sweet smile on his face. Oh no.

"I heard something very interesting from a..Mrs. Anderson?" I gasp. She called him? "Apparently, she found you and your little annoying friend kissin' it up today. That true..fag?"

He kicked me in my, already bruised, stomach and then punched me in my face. "If you're a fag like she says so why don't you and I have some fun on the bed?" He brings out some rope that he had behind his back and I started to crawl away.

"Ah ah ah." He grabs my ankle and pulls me back toward him on my stomach. "Come on now, be good for daddy." He ties my wrists to the bedpost, on my stomach, and my ankles to the footboard.

*RAPE WARNING*

He rips my clothes to shreds, not literally, and tears my boxers off, ripping those too, and throws them on the ground.

He quickly, almost eagerly takes his clothes off while I sob on the bed for help.

"HELP! HELP ME! SOMEONE!" I cry.

He chuckles, "No one can hear you here sweetheart." He climbs back over me and straddles my thighs. I feel his tip poke my entrance and I scream out of fear. He grabs my chin forcefully and pulls my head up at a painful position to look at him, "Don't make me gag you."

He went back to my entrance and slammed himself inside of me. This isn't how I expected my first time to be. Especially not with my own father.

My father keeps going, not even waiting for the pain to subside, as I cry out in pain with each slam.

This goes on for about an hour and I'm now curled up on my bed. My father untied the restraints and walked out my door..just like that. Like he hadn't r-r-raped his own son. Why is this my life? What did I do to deserve such hate? First from Mack and Zander. Then my father. Then..Brett. Gosh, I can't even think his name without wanting to rip my own intestines out.

Deciding to get some sleep I bury my head in my pillows and get under the blanket despite the pain in my lower abdomen and back.

I cried myself to sleep that night. Wondering why everything turned out to be the way it is. I'm not going to try suicide again. I don't even know how to do that right. Brett, I thought, loved me. Apparently not. He didn't even try to stop his mom from kicking me out.

Brett is an average person. Always thinking about himself. Never considering other's feelings. Never considerate. And last and definitely least..the cocky, over-the-top, wanna be superstar, jock of high school.

I'm no longer surprised by his earlier actions. I've just decided that that's the way he is.

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Don't hate don't hate don't hate. It wasn't even planned trust me. So before you come at me with your pitchforks and torches stop your sharpening and dont forget to

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And stay tuned for chapter 7

~Guilty Publisher (Ayzha)