Boy Traumatized By James
Disclaimer
This is a story which deals with sexual as well as romantic situations between consenting teenaged males. This story will also deal with sexual assault, child abuse, Anti-LGBT Bigotry, Racism, Suicide, Ableism, Discrimination and other possibly sensitive topics. If you're unable to handle reading about such sensitive subjects, then back out of the story now. Also, if you're not of the legal age to read this type of story, then please find something else to read. Other than this, no additional Trigger Warnings will be given. Also, "Flame E-mails" will be ignored.
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Finally, if you like this story and haven't done this already. Invite my e-mail address jamesheady1985@gmail.com over for wings and pizza for dinner, but when they get there serve the lowest quality of vegan wings and vegan pizza imaginable.
Thanks to K. for editing once again. Your editing really does help, and I really have, and do continue to appreciate it.
Boy Traumatized
Chapter Four
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing" Because that's what it was really all about And he gave himself an A and a slash on each damned wrist And he hung it on the bathroom door because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen." Stephen Chbosky The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Omri
It was now 3:00 P.M. that Saturday afternoon. Deon and I had eaten lunch with Ron and Barb about an hour before, and it was nice getting to know more about them. I also enjoyed telling them more about myself and my interests. I could tell that they were really interested in knowing more about the things I enjoyed. Over-all, the time we spent together over lunch was really nice, and the atmosphere was warm and truly inviting!
After we finished eating, Deon and I helped with cleaning up the kitchen table as well as helped with doing the dishes. Once Deon handed the last dish to me which was a plate, I dried it then placed it into the dish drainer. By this point, Barb and Ron had gone into the living room after putting away the bit of food that would be used for leftovers. They sat down with Ron picking up a newspaper, and Barb turning on the TV. She began flipping through channels.
I checked the dishes, then made sure the last dish was resting stable against the others, then I turned to Deon.
"Looks like they're all taken care of," he said.
"The dishes are done man," I said in what I hoped was the best impression of Kenny from Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead.
Deon laughed hard, and that got me going. I wasn't sure if he got the reference, and after we stopped laughing, he asked me what it was from. I told him, and that got us going again. That was one of the movies, or one of many movies that Chase and I had watched over the last several months of me living with him. That was one we had watched a couple of times, and that scene about the dishes never failed to get me laughing hard.
"I'd love to show you that movie sometime," I said as we headed into Deon's room.
"I'd really enjoy checking it out," he answered. "It sounds like it would be really good."
"It totally is!" I replied as we sat down at the computer desk while Deon got the computer opened up.
We were going to be checking out some music, and he was going to show me some of the Metal he was into among a few other groups I hadn't yet heard about. I told him that I would at least check out some of the more aggressive Metal he liked, and so he was at that moment going through a list of Metal albums. He selected one, and then told me what it was.
"This is some stuff from the album Tomb of the Mutilated by the Death Metal group Cannibal Corpse," he said as he pressed play on the first song that he announced as being titled Hammer Smashed Face.
It was dark, and the vocals were unintelligible. The drums were pounding and at a tempo that seemed almost impossible for any human to pull off! In short, it was a total mess. Yet as I listened, I felt myself being drawn to it, rather than repulsed. It wasn't calming in the way one would think of a piece of Classical music being calming, but it was definitely easing something within me that was always just below the surface. I guessed it was anxiety, as well as anger, and I was definitely dealing with a lot of the second emotion from time to time over the last few months.
The bottom line was that I was definitely enjoying what I was hearing, and as Hammer Smashed Face gave way to the next song titled I Cum Blood I knew I wanted to hear more! I hoped that we could continue listening to more from that particular area of the Metal world while I was there with my friend for the rest of that day!
We did a little bit of talking as the album played on, mainly bits of conversation regarding things having to do with the album such as Deon letting me know about Chris Barnes being the vocalist on that particular album, and that he would serve as Lead Vocalist until shortly after that when he was replaced. Eventually though, after Deon named off a few more albums and groups, I picked Antichrist by the Norwegian Black Metal band Gorgoroth.
"Good choice," Deon said as he started it up.
I loved the sound of that album as well, and was amazed when my friend let me know that none of the band's lyrics are published anywhere to this day. I smiled and turned to him.
"Talk about marching to the beat of their own drum," I said.
"Yeah, really," Deon agreed.
We continued talking as the album played, mainly about things we wanted to do together when we saw each other the next time. We also talked about getting together with Megan, Trish and Tanner again. Deon was totally happy about all we had discussed, and I was as well.
Once the album ended, Deon asked if there was something I wanted to hear, and I looked at his playlists. After finding one that had different songs from different genres, I pulled it up and started playing it. We both then moved to Deon's bed, and as I stood there watching him transfer from his wheelchair to his bed, he moved to the far side nearest the wall, and he lay down full-length. He then motioned to me that I could join him if I wanted, and I sat down on the edge of the bed with my upper body turned slightly so I could face him.
"I've really been enjoying our time together today," I said. "I truly do enjoy spending time with you, and you've become a really good friend to me."
"I feel the same way," he said. "I've really enjoyed spending the day with you today. You're really fun to hang out with, and you're really a calm person to be around. I mean, that when we're together, I feel really relaxed around you."
"Thanks," I replied. "I feel the same way about you as well. I had to take a bit of time though when I first got to know you since I've had a lot of issues with kids back in the town and at the old school I went to last year, but it didn't take long at all to see what a good person you truly are. Not to mention what a really good friend, as well as best friend you're turning out to be."
"I'm glad to hear you say all that!" Deon said as I moved to switch positions.
Being twisted around like that was starting to make my back feel slightly uncomfortable, so I moved so that I was sitting where my back was facing the headboard of the bed. Deon motioned, and I lay down beside him and without even thinking about it, I moved closer to him and he immediately took me in his arms and held me. It felt so natural, as if we had been doing it all our lives!
"I feel really safe in your arms," I said looking deeply into his eyes. "Also, has anyone ever told you that you have the bluest eyes? I don't think I've ever seen eyes that blue on another boy before."
Deon blushed hard, and smiled shily. I smiled back, and he held me closer.
"Thanks," he answered. "That was really sweet of you to say. No, no one has ever told me that before, and it's nice to hear! I'm glad you like how blue my eyes are."
"You're welcome," I replied. "I do love them. I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing them."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said.
I eventually looked away, and rested my head against his chest. He held me for a long time, and I felt that deep sense of safety and warmth I had felt the couple of other times he held me, especially that last time he held me earlier that day.
"I wish I didn't have to leave when it's time for me to go later on," I said as Deon gently rubbed my back up and down. "I feel so safe and comforted when I'm with you."
"I wish you didn't have to leave either," he replied. "I'm glad you feel safe around me, and I feel the same around you too. I always want you to feel safe and protected when you're with me."
"I want you to feel the same as well," I said as I reached out my hand and gently ran it through Deon's hair.
Until that moment, I hadn't felt his hair unless it brushed against my neck when we would hug, and now as I ran my fingers through it I was delighted at its silky and thick texture! I could have stayed like that for ages feeling his soft hair!
He was doing the same with me now, and I loved it! I could have easily fallen asleep with him doing that, and I spoke so I could stay awake.
"I'm really excited for you to come and spend the weekend with me next weekend," I said. "I mean, once we officially get it all set up that is!"
"I'm really looking forward to that as well!" he answered as we went back to just holding each other with my head resting on Deon's chest once again. "I think we'll definitely have a lot of fun!"
"So do I," I responded.
After a while, we sat up and were sitting on the edge of Deon's bed as he was telling me about various things we could do once we got together again. As he finished with what he was saying, he had his arm resting on top of my head lightly. I only noticed it as he finished the last couple of words he was saying. I then looked up a bit, and he adjusted his arm slightly so it wouldn't fall off.
"Is there a reason as to why you're using the top of my head as an arm rest?" I asked smiling.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," he said smiling back at me. "It still does."
"Maybe it sounded better in your own head than it did once you put it into practice," I said laughing as he settled his arm on top of my head as if getting it more comfortable.
"I mean, if you really want me to move my arm I will," he said laughing and clearly enjoying screwing around with me.
"No, there are more weird or even disturbing things you could be doing," I said as I scooted closer to him.
"You mean like when I make the occasional reference to my dick when you and I are talking?" he asked smirking.
"Well, that too," I replied.
"Don't worry though," he said. "I haven't even gotten started about all the things I can tell you about my dick, so you'll have some surprises in store for you from me going forward as we keep spending time together."
"Um, thanks, I think?" I said with what I hoped was an expression of mock worry on my face.
He laughed, then put his arm around my shoulders.
"I can keep all that to myself though, all joking aside," he said turning serious again. "I really wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable with that or with anything."
"There's nothing to worry about," I said looking back at him, and reaching out to stroke his hair for a moment.
"That's good," he answered. "I'm glad to hear you say that, because I arranged a get-together between my left hand and my penis later tonight once I get in bed for the evening. That way I won't have any interruptions."
I laughed hard at that, and he was laughing just as hard along with me.
"I hope you enjoy that," I replied. "I'm right-handed, but will probably do the same."
"Right-handed?" he said assuming an expression of mock skepticism. "Really?"
"What's wrong with that?" I asked smiling back at him.
"Nothing, mainly just giving you shit," he answered.
"Yeah, I just hold it circled in my index finger and thumb and move it up and down like that."
"What?" he asked laughing now. "Are you jacking off or trying to write a letter with it?"
We laughed hard at that one.
"Okay, so you're trying to persuade me to try it left-handed I'm guessing," I said as we stopped laughing,.
"Yeah, and with your hand wrapped around it like a fist," he replied.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll try that when I do it next time," I said.
"I'm glad I could help," he responded. "I hope you find it as enjoyable as I have found it."
"I'm sure I will."
We continued talking for a little while longer, then a little after 5:00 P.M., Chase was there to get me. I hugged Deon and we said goodbye. After shaking Barb and Ron's hands, I walked out to the car with Chase.
Once belted in and pulling away from the driveway, I leaned back, and Chase spoke.
"Did you have a good time?" he asked this, and I heard a tone in his voice that set my alarms off.
Something was wrong, and he was trying to act as if nothing was.
"I did," I said. "What's wrong?"
He turned to me, and looked at me for a long moment.
"Something happened earlier today," he said as he took my hand as we neared the house. "I need to talk with you once we get in the house. I wanted to wait to let you have your time with Deon before dropping it on you".
I was scared now. It had to be about what happened back last year. I got out of the car, and we went in the house. Once seated in Chase's study he sat down beside me and showed me the letter, and my hands shook badly enough so that I had to hand it to him.
He took it, then read it out loud. I felt fear overtaking me along with rage beginning to bubble up to the surface. I shot up, and began sobbing as I ran out of the study and in to my room!
"God Fucking Damn it!" I screamed then punched the wall with all the force I had!
I didn't even feel the impact, then I threw myself onto my bed.
It wasn't fucking fair! Just when I started getting to a place of what I felt was safety, something had to come and fuck things up for me again! I heard Chase walking towards my room, but the flashbacks were upon me now, and there was nothing that would stop them this time!
Back around the beginning of November of this past year I had been going to school like usual with my three friends Terry, Brad and Shane. They were the ones I had mentioned earlier a little ways back, and who were anti-LGBT, and who would regularly make fun of me. They would always give me shit about whether or not I would turn out to be a fag, their words not mine. They would always talk about how soft I was, not just in terms of my physical body, but how I would always cry easily.
They saw it as something that boys much less men shouldn't do. They also made fun of me for not being in to the music they were into, and it would get hard listening to them sometimes as I mentioned a while back. Things happened at the beginning of November that set in motion the events that would lead to me being traumatized. Not just from the events and the climax of said events, but my being traumatized psychologically as life went on.
In early November of last year I had been at lunch with a guy named Mike. He and I seemed to be getting close when we met towards the end of October. He had started school there around that time, and we met and started hanging out a little. He seemed to be a more compassionate guy, and I felt like I could open up to him about stuff, then eventually anything. We would hang out at his house a couple of times a week as October came to a close, and I was starting to develop feelings for him, and though I tried to keep it to myself it finally became too much to hold in. Finally at lunch on the day in question I was sitting there with Mike at lunch as I said, I hoped that I could trust him, and I felt like I could. He didn't seem to really like my three friends, at least I wouldn't see him hanging around them much. Believing myself safe in that notion, I leaned towards him and began talking.
"Mike?" I began. "I know that you and I have been hanging out for a couple of weeks now."
"Yeah," he said leaning in close facing me as well.
"Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm really enjoying hanging out with you," I went on completely unsure of how to continue.
He began looking at me as if I had suddenly sprouted two extra heads.
"Yeah?" he went on looking closer at me.
"Well, have you ever had a friend where you guys are getting so close that you could tell them anything, like you're so connected that you feel connected even when you're not together?" I was flushed now and wasn't sure how to stop from rambling on. "It's also like one of those friendships where you guys are wondering what the other is doing even when you're not physically around each other, and like you can't stop thinking about each other no matter how hard you try?"
I was starting to feel like I had made a mistake. Mike's eyes narrowed and he got a tight-lipped expression. I recognized this as the facial expression he would get when he was starting to lose his patience, or just before he lost his temper, which I would see him do sometimes while at his house. It would be mainly when his computer wouldn't act exactly the way he would want it, and he would yell, or slam his fist on the desk over and over again. It scared me when he would get this way, and when I would try to give suggestions, he would tell me to shut up and let him think for a minute. It took only a second time of me offering help to learn to just let him rage until he was done.
He had that look now, and I was trying to think of a way I could change the subject.
"Sorry to sound rude," he said as his lips shifted into a sneer. "But what the fuck are you talking about Omri? You some kind of Fag trying to hit on me or something?"
He said that last part, and as he said it, two other guys walking by heard it, then turned to where we were sitting. I felt my stomach drop, and I felt my bowels stirring uncomfortably! They looked at us for a long moment, and then Mike met their eyes and nodded his head.
"Look, just forget it," I said standing up. "Never mind. I don't know what I was talking about!"
"I know exactly what you were talking about you fucking piece of shit Faggot!" Mike yelled.
"No!" I said stepping up to him. "Keep your voice down!"
"Fuck that shit!" he yelled this time louder. "I've seen those guys you hang with, and even talked to them a few days ago when we were in Gym Class while you were in your other class. They told me what a filthy Queer they think you are, and now I know what they meant!"
"No, it's not like that!" I said starting to feel like I would lose it any moment and start crying! "It's not like that!"
"I know exactly what it's like you sick freak!" Mike screamed as I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
I looked to my left, and the worst sight I could ever see was right before my eyes! Terry, Brad and Shane stood there watching us. How long had they been hearing everything?
"At last," Brad, the leader of our friend group said as he stepped close to me. "Now we know the truth."
"No!" I said stepping towards him. "It's not what you think!"
"Hey, don't stand that close to me!" he said with a mock expression of disgust on his face. "I don't need you giving me AIDS or whatever other horror you and your Fag friends are infected with."
"Brad!" I said as the first couple of tears fell. "Please, just listen!"
"No, there's no listening," he said. "I've heard enough, and so have Terry and Shane. Now life as you know it is over. You walk through those fucking doors into the school tomorrow, you're going to get a whole new experience in education, thanks to me, Terry, Shane and well, this."
He said that last part and positioned his body so that only I could see. In his hand was one of those Out-The-Front knives that while legal to own, were technically illegal to transport across state lines through the mail.
"What!" I said feeling my mouth go completely dry.
"This is what you have to look forward to if you even try touching us in any sort of way," he said his face just inches from mine. "Let me be very fucking clear. My dad taught me about the evils of perverts like you! He hates them, my mom hates them and I hate them. I always suspected that you were like that, but couldn't prove it. I'm serious Omri! You even accidently graze my hand with yours even if handing me something during class, I'll slice off your fucking balls and shove them down your fucking throat. Oh, and don't think about asking for silence from me."
He then turned to the five or six tables in front of him.
"What are you doing!" I said feeling like I would faint any moment.
"Hey everyone!" Brad yelled over the noise which by this time was slowly decreasing as more people based on our body language from a few moments before had stopped talking to watch what was going on. "I need you all to know something. We have us a Fag here!"
Brad pointed at me when saying that last part. He had since put away his knife, and though slightly relieved, I was still terrified!
"Yeah," Mike said stepping forward to stand beside Brad. "Little Fag tried to hit on me a few minutes ago."
"You guys just be careful around him," Brad went on. "We just barely tolerate Fags here at our school as it is, we don't need them getting the idea that they can just fuck us up the ass any time they feel like it. If I was principal of this school though, no perverts like this little freak would be allowed through the doors, not one single time!"
At that point I couldn't take anymore! I ran out of the room, and in a blind panic, I somehow was able to run home. I knew that my parents would be out at their jobs. My parents would be at work for a while. I had a few more hours before they got home, and that made my terror increase several more levels! My dad would never accept me as gay, neither would my mom! My dad would beat the shit out of me many times when I would act less than manly. It could be anything, such as if I showed interest in a slightly more colorful shirt at the store, or if I would look as if I was about to cry for whatever reason. He would make me go to my room, and while there he would say he would be in in a few minutes. I would wait there, and once there he would beat me several times on my ass with his belt. He never used his hands, always his belt which totally fucking hurt! I could only imagine what he would do to me now!
I had no idea what my dad would do if any of the kids at school told him. I'd be lucky if all he and my mom did was throw me out of the house. As I sat there on the edge of my bed with my thoughts racing like crazy, I felt my fear growing more and more. I couldn't take it, and without giving any thought to it, I ran to where my dad had a collection of hunting knives. I took one that was the sharpest, and running back into my room, I gripped it as my mind was flooded with the memories of what had just happened at school!
I didn't even feel it as I pressed the blade in to first one wrist, then the other, slashing down and deep! I also didn't feel it as the blood began spirting out, and then I fell to the ground and hoped that it would all be over soon!
Author's Notes
Now we're getting into the dark stuff. I'll continue through these events in Chapter Five, as well as will be visiting more of Deon's back story, but that will come later in the chapter. I can imagine that this isn't easy to read about, and I urge anyone who's going through suicidal thoughts to please seek help from a counselor or if there is an emergency then call 9-11.
I hope everyone had a good holiday for which ever holidays all of you celebrate in December, and I hope everyone had a Happy New Year's. All that being said, I hope everyone is doing well. I'll see all of you in Chapter Five.