Renga Fluff But I Hit You In The Head With The Skateboard Of Angst

5: father

Reki woke up at around 2am to a big thump in the other room. He immediately felt himself tense. He was groggy, half asleep, so obviously he immediately assumed there was a demon in his home or something.

That fear was quickly replaced by a new one as he heard the loud, angry talking that started to pick up as his mom yelled at his drunken dad, who he hadn't seen in days.

It picked up a lot and soon the yelling was closer. And closer. And soon his dad slammed open his bedroom door, fuming.

Reki was terrified.

He tore himself out of his covers and tried to make a bolt for his bathroom but his dad was faster.

He grabbed him by his shirt collar and wrapped his hand around his neck, pinning him against the wall. Hitting him repeatedly. Reki begged for him to stop.

He couldn't breath.

He kicked and tried to loosen his grip but nothing helped. His dad was furious, his mom was watching with a scowl. She had told him the news and set him off and was fine with it. She didn't care if he got hurt, she wanted him to get hurt.

He felt himself getting weaker. His vision starting to blacken, but his dad dropped him instead. His coughed as he gasped for air, begging him to stop the hitting and punching in between sobbing breaths.

But he didn't stop.

It seemed like it would never stop until his mom decided that he was bleeding enough and dragged his dad out of the room.

And Reki laid there on the floor, his nose bloody and seeping into his shirt and the floor. He pushed himself up, rubbing his shoulder where a new bruise had formed. In that moment he realized how much he hated himself.

He felt new tears prick at his eyes as this new ball of self hatred started to build up on the inside. A big black ball that just kept getting bigger the more he thought.

And the more he tried to distract himself the more reasons he found.

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He wanted to scream. He didn't know to where or at who he just wanted to scream and let the whole world hear. He wanted them to know that he hated himself too. He wanted everyone to understand that if he could control his sexuality he would change it.

He wished he could take back telling anyone.

He wished he could take back whatever made him gay. Whatever clicked in his brain that made him realize. He felt tears streaming down his face as this ball of hatred for himself flattened in his stomach and lined his insides.

He found himself unable to stop crying. He yearned for the past. The way things used to be. So many friends who seemed to like him. Teachers not trying to fail him. Feeling comfortable everywhere he went in the small town.

Now he felt completely trapped with no way out.

He choked on a sob as he thought about how much he would rather be anyone else than who he was. How he would rather die than be in this situation.

He thought about how the people who told him to kill himself might be onto something. His mind was racing with these new thoughts and opportunities, all the while he thought that before this week, not once in his life did he think he would be anything close to commiting suicide.

He had his hardships yes, but this?

This was the worst it had ever been. The most he had ever just wanted to down a bottle of something in the medicine cabinet and let the overdose take it's toll.