Wounds

okay, so this is the first official chapter of wounds. i hope you all like it, i hope thati like it. there will be more juicy parts, by the way. i plan on doing a lot, but it might be a while before chapter 2 gets posted because i need to edit it first, and then add new stuff/deleted the bad shit. so please, if you have any comments, let me know, i would appreciate it. plese enjoy!



WOUNDS

[one]



Now that the sun has come through my windows, the light shined a path from the windowsill, to the floor, through the mess in my room, up to my bed, and finally on my eyes. I woke up being blinded. I was already aching from last night’s fun. Because of that, I already had a headache. I put my hand on my forehead to see if a fever was following. As I put my hand back down, I felt a warm and wet feeling on the bed. I saw that my sheets were stained velvet... again. I needed to wash them again before my parents suspected anything... again. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.



I slowly moved my newly scarred body across my bed, stood up painfully, and stretched as far as I could before I broke my scars some more. The distance to my dresser looked as though it would take an hour to get to. After all that I did last night, a single sep was like ten thousand pounds of needles being plunged into my body. This was always the worst part, the after effects. I slowly made my way to the dresser, passed the wicker clothes basket, the television, the mahogany night stand, and the bunch of other shit I had in my room.



Even though I had a very decent size room, and everything was placed very nicely, everything looked like it was too much. Like it didn’t fit. But because of the size of my room, I needed a lot. I couldn’t just have the room empty after all. I needed to add the three person couch next to the big plastic tree I had. The computer and desk had to go next to the big bay window that over looked the side of our estate. The forty-five inch plasma television had to be hung in between the two obscure paintings I got as gifts last year. And of course the dresser had to be all the way across my bed next to the over sized window that over looked the main corridor’s driveway.



As I walked to the dresser, I saw my “toy” was still out from last night. I also noticed some more stains on my faded gray stone floors. I needed to clean those up too before anyone noticed. I took my “toy” and threw it in with the pile of clothes in my basket. As I got closer to the dresser, I looked outside. The good thing with having a huge window is it never failed to give a good view. Looking out of that window next to the dresser, I saw the roof of the foyer, a bit of the front garden, part of the main entrance’s fountain, and a bit of the drive way itself. My parents were home. Their cars weren’t parked in the garage, they were parked by the fountain, which means they went out last night.



It looked very hot outside. The air looked heavy, the ground looked like it was steaming, and the grass looked like it was dying. I always hated August because it was so damn hot. The birds were flying around, but the weren’t chirping their regular pretty songs. They were to exhausted from the heat to make a noise. The wind was barely blowing which never helped on the hot days. If I looked hard enough, I could have probably seen the tress sweat of maple be cause it was so hot and humid. Passing the dresser, I walked into my personal bathroom. It always had a distinct smell. It wasn’t bad or anything, but it kinda relaxed me.



My bathroom was almost as big as my bedroom, but I liked it much more. I’m cheesy and like the girly marble and matching walls. I had a real big glass shower in the one corner of the bathroom. It was like a separate room itself. You walk into, close the galls doors and walk a little further into the shower and that’s where you would take a shower. It had some built in seats, which were fun for sex, but weren’t useful in any other way, and were made of the same marble, so I got rid of them Across the shower was the sauna room. I never understood why my parents put this in my bathroom, I don’t like sweating, so why would I like a sauna room?



Of course I had the standard Jacuzzi bath tub in the other corner, but it wasn’t standard at all. It was in a raised section of the bathrooms, I had to walk up for or five marble steps to get into it. I always felt like royalty taking a bath in ii though. There was a very nice, and one the only one in the entire house, sun roof above the Jacuzzi. Many a nights I would go in there and just relax for a couple of hours. Because of the room’s size, the window next to the sink overlooked more of the driveway. From that window, I saw more of the front garden, the foyer columns and entrance way, more of the drive way, and I even saw Josh’s car. It wasn’t even ten yet, and he was already here. Just what I needed.



I went back into my room and threw some clothes on. I didn’t look at what I threw on, I just threw it on. I knew Josh wouldn’t mind seeing me in shitty clothes at ten in the morning. I quickly ripped off the covers of my bed and threw fresh ones on. I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth because I knew that Josh did mind that. The last thing he wanted to smell was raunchy morning breath.



I left my bedroom and went down the long hallway. My mom loved to decorate the hallways with pictures, tons and tons of pictures. Most of the pictures on the walls weren’t even of us. They were all the standard pictures that came in the frames. She always said that they looked nicer then us. My family has issues. The only ones of us were the few scattered on the coffee tables next to the couches. They were taken years ago, before all the shit hit the fan.



Everyone was still sleeping. I am always the first one up on Saturdays. I was always a morning person and will forever be a morning person, even through high school. The only reason I hated it, was because all of the bedrooms were upstairs. There was mine, my mom’s my dad’s, my little sister, who doesn’t live here anymore, the guest bedroom, each bedroom had its own bathroom, the library was on the second floor as with the pool and game room but all the rooms in the hallway to the stairs were bedrooms. I snuck myself downstairs quietly as to not wake anyone.



I unlocked the back door so Josh could get in. for whatever reason, he doesn’t like going through the foyer. He likes coming in through the kitchen. We have a couple entrances to the house, one being the foyer, which is the main entrance. Then there’s the door in the kitchen, the sun room, the television room, and the back foyer. He only uses the kitchen, I guess its because that’s where he always ended up going. I took the toaster out and put in some bagels. Josh quietly entered the room. He gave me the standard “is it okay to come in” look. No matter how many times I tell him he can just come in, he always asks. I gave him the okay and looked him up and down.



He was wearing a white Phillies shirt and ripped up black JNCO jeans. His hair was currently shining deep dark purple because of the sun. He died his hair with the black dye that has a hint of purple in it when the sun shines on it. It was good for work cause he works inside and no one could tell it was purple. I could tell that he had gone tanning because his arms were redder than usual, and a bit darker. He has been begging me to go tanning with him for years. I always told hi no, it just isn’t for me, “I will get tan my own way thank you” I always told him.



Josh and I have known each other since we were kids. His parents helped my parents get a job, and they hit it off very well, and became friends. Josh and I grew very close to each other. I don’t believe in “the one” or anything like that, but I do believe, some people are just go great with certain people. That’s how Josh and I am. The only problem is that, my parents disagree. They only believe in man and woman, not man and man, or woman and woman. Once they found out about josh and me, they severed all ties with Josh’s parents like it had anything to do with them. And then they moved into this house, which is a couple hours away from where Josh lives. Now Josh and I see each other in private and leave my parents out of it.



His parents, on the other hand, have always loved me. They were a little upset when they found out their only child was gay, but they loved him, and they were okay with it. I feel more compassion form them then a single person who lives in my house. In fact we always find ourselves going there one way or another. This weekend was going to be one of those occasions, and it was special. Josh’s birthday was soon. His parents were going to be away too, though they have never bothered us. Their house is bigger than mine. They have what I consider a mansion. I have a really huge house.



He looked at me, and I already knew he noticed. He walked over to me, stared at me for a couple seconds. Sighed heavily. I hate it when he sighs. I feel like shit enough and he has to go and be dramatic. He put his large, warm, loving hands on my shoulder, and squeezed tightly.



"You did it, didn't you?" His raspy voice always gives me goose bumps. It sounded the same as when I first did it, and the time after that and after that. In fact, I could swear that he ahs a recorded voice for when I fuck up. I tried to give a dramatic, shocked pause, but I knew he knew it would be bull shit. I just shrugged and forced his grip off of me and turned away from him. “Hello? Drew?”



"And what if I did?" I tried to make it sounds as though I didn’t do it. But, it didn’t work. We knew each other too much for bull shitting.



"Why?” His voice raised for a moment. Then he realized everyone was till sleeping and lowered it again. “Why do you do it? What the fuck is the point?" Even when he keeps his voice low, he makes me shiver. "You know it isn't good, and you know how I feel." He turned me around and looked directly into my eyes, as if he was searching for something. Looking for regret, looking for an answer..



"I know," I said as nonchalantly as possible. There was a silence. This wasn't what I want to talk about so early in the morning. The tears were already coming. This always happens to me. I fuck up and I hurt him.

Josh has had a bad past with what I do. His dad isn’t his biological father. He died years ago when Josh was only a little kid, before we ever met. It was close to his second birthday in fact. Something went wrong with a business deal. Then he got fired from his job. He had issues with dealing with things, especially while growing up.



Unlike my dad, he didn’t drink and take it out on everyone around him. No, he was a very gentle kind person, or so I’ve heard. He took everything out on himself. He would secretly cut himself, everyday. He didn’t have sex with his wife to hide t. It got to the point that he started to sleep by himself. In that part of his life, his wife was going to divorce him. And he finally told her that truth and he sought out help. But help doesn’t always help, especially when the person you go to is a nut. His psychiatrist told him if he hated life that much to just kill himself and stop wasting time. Problem with that was it stuck with him.



After loosing the job, three days before Josh’s party, he fell into a deep depression. He didn’t see anyone, he didn’t go to Josh’s party. He said nothing to his wife. Then the next thing she knew, he was dead. He cut himself so bad that he couldn’t move. To this day, I don’t think it was intentional. The autopsies all said that he had struck a nerve that made him not feel it even more than normal Because of this, he couldn’t tell how deep he as cutting. Eventually, he just layed there and was slowly dying from blood loss. He realized it and figured to just end it quicker. He slashed is wrist and his neck and just prayed for one of the to work quickly. Josh was the one to find him. On his birthday, none the less.



"So how could you tell?" I was still trying to not look at him. I hated seeing him upset. I hated more how I got him upset. One would think that would be enough incentive to stop. Words are so much easier than actions



"Your posture is different every time you do it.” He paused and waled to the fridge to get a drink. “I can tell you are in pain. I always could. I don't like it." He was right. No matter how hard I try, he could always tell when I did it. every single time. I couldn’t hide it from him. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. That would hurt him more that any cut. Once again, he sighed, and I noticed some shaking in his voice “you need to stop.”



"We've talked about this before. I can't stop." Tears started to fall from my eyes. "I hate being this way. I am addicted and I know it. I can't help it though. I get so caught up in everything and it just happens." I don't like hurting him but I can't stop. It feels so good that someone actually cares for once. But the fact that it kills him inside makes me hate myself even more because I know I cant stop. It just doesn’t work. I’ve tried before and the results weren’t good.



He looked into my eyes, purging all my pain from my soul. He had soft, beautiful, green eyes. No matter the occasion, he always took my breath away when he looked me directly in the eyes. He just has those deep cascading eyes that I can gaze into for years and years on end. My eyes, on the other hand, are the bland dark brown. There’s no substance, no gazing depths. Just plain old boring eyes.

"Hungry?" I broke the silence.



"Yeah. I have been on this stupid diet and now it is over.” During the spring semester at school, he plays baseball and sometimes soccer. Even if he wasn’t playing a sport, he was dieting, going to the gym, and practically starving himself. He always said that just cause he isn’t playing a sport, he still needed to stay in shape and look good for me. I never cared of he was in shape or not. Yeah, I loved when we fuck and I feel his abs, and how his muscles tense up. But it wasn’t like I was going to leave him if he wasn’t in shape.



We sat and ate in silence. It wasn’t out of awkwardness, we just don’t need to talk while we eat. Besides I was still waking up and recovering from the previous night. I remember the first night we ate together as a couple. We actually went to some stupid pizza place after a horrible movie. At first, we were nervous and anxious. We talked only because the silence was awkward. Like I’ve said before, we’ve known each other for a very long time, but we’ve been together, officially, since I was seventeen. Once we got the pizza, we just ate. Nothing to it, no conversation, nothing about the shitty move, or the over priced pizza for that matter. And since then, we just don’t talk while we eat. It doesn’t bother us.



We started to clean everything up when I heard a noise from upstairs. I checked the clock and realized my parents would be waking up soon. I knew with all that happened last night, I didn’t want to see them, and I knew Josh really didn’t want to see them anymore than me. We half assed cleaning up, got my stuff, already placed by the door, and went out to his Jeep.



I loved his Jeep almost as much as him. It was a really nice luxury Jeep. The chrome, GPS system, sound system, and interior weren’t all that the car had to offer. For being a Jeep, it was very spacious, which was great because of how long the ride was to his house. In the back of the vehicle, there were DVDs and TVs built into the seats, but I’ve never used them before. What was the point sitting in the back? I might as well drive myself.

Something about driving with him to his house always made me happy. It felt like I was leaving an entire galaxy away. His house was an escape for me, this entire weekend, in fact, would be a nice vacation that I was well deserving of. I just needed to relax, think and escape. I just needed to be with him. I looked at him driving. He was so stern when he drove. It always made me laugh.



We made our way onto the highway. The only problem with where I lived was that it was isolated from everywhere else. No matter where I needed to go, I had to go on this stupid highway. I guess it brings back memories though. There were trees on the side of the road and bushes. It was a really nice looking highway. I still remember the first time I went to Josh's house. It was one of the first times I enjoyed being with my parents. They drove me over when I was ten on this highway. My parents were very good friends with his parents. We hung out a lot because of that. I guess I can thank them for bringing him into my life, not that too happy with that.

Driving down this road over the years, we found out that listening to CDs was boring and over done, so now all we do is listen to the XM radio. It had everything we wanted to listen to, and we didn’t need to skip any songs or change disks. It was a really good thing to have.



The highway, although it took about an hours drive to get from my house to his, was pretty straight forward. Except for the turn on and turn off, we just went north. Very simple, very easy, but yet, very boring. This was the time we talked. We never talked about anything big in the car because he liked to concentrate on driving and that was all. I would sometimes fall asleep, with I knew didn’t other him. I fell asleep this trip up to his house.



I had a dream. Everything was dark, there was no noise. I felt like I was lost, but I was happy. I looked around the empty abyss of darkness. All I saw was josh holding on to me. He was sleeping. I kissed his forehead and he looked up at me. His green eyes glared at me with hatred. He pushed me backwards once he realized he was touching me.



“Fuck you!” he screamed out to me with such hatred that I fell to the floor sobbing. “That’s right, all you do is cry. You’re worthless.” He walked closer to me and slapped me across the face. “why don’t you just kill yourself?”



I looked up at him with tears and a confused look. I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t sound like Josh at all. It almost didn’t even look like him. The happiness turned to depression and anger. This wasn’t my Josh.



“Hey you okay?” a soft nudge on my let too back to reality.



“What?” I didn’t realize I dozed off and was dreaming.



“You were making weird noises and grunts. Are you okay?” He looked concerned, this was my Josh.



“Oh, sorry. I’m fine.” I blushed and set myself better in the seat.



"Well, we're here ready for fun!" He looked at me with a forced smile. He was obviously worried and upset with me I did it again, I upset him.



"I'm sorry,” slowly crept its way out of my throat. I hated being like this. It isn’t easy to explain. I get upset. Then I do something about it, then I upset people when I do it, which makes me even more upset. It is a vicious cycle.



“I don’t know what to say,” he sat there looking at me. “I mean, I want to say, ‘don’t worry about it’ but you have to worry about it.” He was right. If I didn’t start thinking about what I was doing, I could be dead. But was that so bad? He sighed a little and turned the car off. “Let’s go, we’ll talk inside.”

Josh’s house was always alive looking. There were always flowers and lights. They hired the best garden service in the world. Every bush looked just as good as the one before. All the hedges were perfectly trimmed year round, everyday. The grass was the same color green year round and absolutely beautiful. The house itself, like I said before, was a real mansion. There were rooms on rooms upon rooms. Some o f the rooms I don’t think they ever used. They had three kitchens, eight bathrooms, six bedrooms, a separate maid’s corridor. His parents were very successful at what they did, though I really never found out what exactly they do. It really doesn’t matter to me. All I know is that they liked me, though they were never really home.



We made ourselves to the third floor, where Josh’s living corridors were. He had his own bathroom, bedroom, living room, kitchen, library, balcony, and gym. Whenever ii stayed over, I always felt like I was on vacation. He pretty much lives on his own, and I like the privacy. Every couple of years, he does something different to his “corridor”. Last summer, I came over and we repainted his bedroom and library. His bedroom used to be a light green color. It was nice, but too bright. Now, he has dark burgundy walls. It goes very well with his mahogany hard wood floors. I placed my bag on his sofa. He came behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed me. It was the first, official kiss of the day. His soft lips were always nice against my rough lips. No matter how much chap stick I put on my lips, they are always hard and chapped. He never minded though. He said he likes the different texture.



He started to move down to my neck. His warm tongue on my neck always gave me goose bumps all over the place. I held him closer to e and sighed in pleasure. I grasped his blackish purple hair between my fingers and held on. He said it was a rush having me pull his hair, he said it made him feel alive. I started getting hard when he pushed me onto his bed. He leaned over me looking at me with a smile that just makes me so happy to be alive.

He went to my ears and started nibbling on them. Little bites f love in between the pushing back and forth of his tongue always put me in the mood. I put my hands on his back, in between his shirt and his body. I was giving him a massage as he slowly started to go further down on my body. He gave me light kisses on my lips, not slipping any tongue. It was just enough to make want to suck face and he pulled away, teasing me over and over. Then as he went back to my neck, more than likely to give me a hicky, I started scratching his back. Scratching always turned him on. He could be completely miserable and want nothing to do with anyone, but as soon as I scratch his back, he has a hard dick and already on top of me.



My dick was bulging in my pants enough as it was. It didn’t help that he kept rubbing it with his legs as he was moving. It was bliss. Then he started to unbutton my shirt with his teeth, which I taught him that. His soft skin against my chest made my heart race. I loved being in love and being with him. But I fell back into reality when I remembered what I did last night.



“We need to stop,” I said as carefully as possible, as to not upset him.



“But baby,” he said in his sexy voice, “I’m just getting started.” He had his eyes closed and was starting to suck on my nipple. If his eyes were open, he would see the hundred of scars I had on my chest from last night alone; it was amazing that he didn’t feel them in the first place.



“Babe please,” I was more stern this time. “I really over did it last night and you wo-”



“Won’t what?” now he was irritated. “Wont like what I see?” he sat up to look me in the eye. “Lemme tell you something okay, everyday, I don’t like what I see. Everyday I have to look at the shit you are put through. Everyday, I am reminded of how much in pain you are in. And I don’t like it, cause there is nothing for me to do.” The tears were starting to come. “Everyday, I see you depressed about something. And I cant do anything about it.”



“But, you do-”



“No I don’t” he snapped at me. “I do nothing for you. All I can do is make you cum. That is the one time I don’t see your pain.” he got off the bed and started to wipe the tears off his face. “And here you go. You’re worried I’m gonna see the scars and get upset. I’ve seen ‘em. I can feel them okay. Its nothing new. But you are too worried. I’m already upset, nothing is gonna make it worse.”



He stood there looking at me with such compassion in his eyes. What the fuck do I say to that? I cant keep saying ‘I’m sorry’. I cant promise not to do it. I never know what to do.



“What the fuck happened?” somehow I knew it was gonna come up. I hate answering why, I truly do. It drives me mad. Most of the time, I don’t know why I do it. And then other times, when I explain it, I hear myself and then I thik of how stupid a reason that was to do something like this. “You were so good for so long, man. What went wrong. Was it me”



“No.” it was never him. He was the only good thing in my life. “You damn well know it wasn’t you. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, you don’t hurt me.”



“But why then? What else could it be? You don’t talk to your parents anymore since the last time you were here.” I just started crying. I got up out of the bed and flew myself into his arms.



“I’m worthless! I hate my self and everything I do! You are the only thing left in my life I can look forward to, and everyone has a problem with it! My dad, he almost killed me last night! He had my head against the floor pushing on it with his boot.” He looked at me, with anger in his eyes.



“What happened?”



“I don’t know. I got home and mom was talking to my boss. Apparently he heard some ‘disturbing’ rumors about me that he felt was necessary to speak to my parents about.” I looked up at him holding me like a baby. “I don’t know what they were, who they involved or anything, and I don’t care. All I knw is that my mom, for once, stuck up for me. She told my boss to mind his own fucing business and that that had nothing to do with work.”



“Wow, I didn’t expect that.” we sat back down on the bed.



“When she hung up the phone, she acknowledged I was there, but didn’t say anything and walked away. So far so good, no problems. But apparently, my boss didn’t like what she had told him and immediately called my dad.”



“This is where things got bad I’m sure.” He kissed my cheek for comfort.



“Well, you know him. Unless he won money, he didn’t like to be called during work. Even if that was the case, he would be pissed cause he’s loaded. But anyway, unbeknownst to me, my boss called him and was bitching to him about how mom handled things and how we both should be punished. When he came home,” I took a breath. “ when he came home, I was in the kitchen making some soup for dinner. I never heard him come in. He came behind me…” the tears started falling again. “he grabbed me by the neck, and threw me around. I was total shocked and dropped the knife I was using. I saw it was him, and before I could do anything, he hit me hard and went falling to the floor. As this was happening, mom came walking in and sees what’s happened and asked about it, and he told ‘fuck off bitch or you’ll be next’ so she just left the room silent.



“I tried to get back up and he kicked me in the stomach. He started screaming about something. He said if he’d ever hear about me being with a guy on more time, he will cut my throat in my sleep. He called me ‘faggot’ and said I was useless and that I should just kill myself.”



“Well, I can see why you were upset.” He put his hand on my hand, for more comfort. “You know, you can leave that place. Move in with me, please.”



“I know I need to, but I’m afraid, if I do, they’ll torch the place down in anger.” We sat in silence just thinking.



“You know I love you right?”



“Of course I do. You’re the only one feel love from.” The fact that he said it though, made me feel better. We don’t often say ‘I love you’ because it is generally understood. We both know we loved each other with all our heart.



We layed on the bed for quite a while, holding each other. I was running my hand against his abs, spooning him at the same time. We aid there, in peace with one another. I knew he appreciated me telling him, but I did leave out a few things, just because I always do. I never tell him everything. I never tell him how I want to kill myself after things like that and how I silently pray that I cut too deep. We started to doze off together.

The phone rang waking us up. We slowly got up, as it kept ringing. I gave him a kiss on the forehead before he got up to answer the phone. I looked at the clock, it was already six at night. We slept for a long time. It was nice. As he was talking on the phone, I went to the bathroom. I took a look in the mirror, and I noticed my eyes were getting bags underneath of them. Only twenty two and I started looking old. When I went back into the bedroom, Josh was sitting on the bed, hunched in a position like he was thinking about something. He looked up at me. Something was wrong.