Silent Suffering
folder
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
6,909
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
6,909
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This original, fictional work is the private property of Michelle and cannot be reproduced without permission. Any resemblance to a person, real or fictional is purely coincidental.
Waking Up
Antaris: Thank you! I like the speculation and to be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure what I'm going to do with this story. I haven't had much of a chance to flesh it out and I'm kind taking what the muses give me. =)
Takumi: Never e-mailed someone about updates before. Hopefully I don't disappoint.
Lisa: I was very, very scared there for a second that you really hated my story. I was going to be very sad. I did change for this chapter like you suggested. Hopefully it looks better. It looks different on my lappy. I go to Christopher Newport University in Newport News, VA. I love my school!
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Waking up sucks. I have managed to open my eyes after an eternity of being semi-awake but still having nightmares. My brain feels fuzzy and something is covering part of my face. I lift my left arm to pull the thing off my face but find out instead that flexing my wrist causes nauseating levels of pain. Looking at my arm, I see that from my knuckles down is covered in a cast. Then I remember that the nightmares weren’t really nightmares: they were memories. My mind clears as adrenaline punches my system and my eyes flair wide. I look around and see all the equipment around me indicative of a hospital. I’m not dead or if I am, this is the scariest brand of after-life ever. I hate hospitals. I jerk my head towards the door when I hear it open. The nurse who walks in seems surprised to see me awake. She recovers quickly and gives me a smile.
“Hey sweetheart. You’re ok. You’re being taken care of. You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital and I’m looking after you for the next few hours. Are you ready to get that mask off?” I nod vigorously. “Alright. Well lift your head a little. Good.” The mask slips off and take a deep breath of the uniquely hospital air. “Now. Do you remember your name? There was no identification on you when you were found.” I nod again and bring up my hands to tell her. The pain in my wrist is horrid and the needle digging in my other arm makes me want to vomit. She places her hands on mine and pushes them down. “You need to put your arms down. Can you tell me your name?” I pull my hands back up and begin to sign at her but she just looks confused.
Finally I mouth at her, “I can’t speak.” Knowledge dawns.
“Oh. You’re mute aren’t you?” I nod and the look of pity on her face makes me want to throw something. “You know ASL?” I nod again beginning to feel exasperated at this conversation. “I’ll get someone who can translate.” God damn it. More bloody translators. Why can’t I just find someone who knows ASL the first time instead of somebody having to learn the damn signs or find a translator. My annoyance is starting to make my head throb even more so I just lay back and try to calm my ass down. Speaking of ass, fuck it hurts. Why does it hurt so much? I’m confused until the nightmare plays in my head again and now I’m sure I’m going to vomit. Luckily the nurse walks back in, sees my distress and hands me the pan. I empty the small contents of my stomach and sit back even though my stomach is still doing some rather large flips.
“This is Andrew. He knows sign language and can help you communicate with the rest of the hospital staff.” Andrew does some little wave thing and asks me for my name.
I sign to him Michael. Michael Lee Dross. I go to LSU and I want somebody to contact my roommate and my parents. My roommate’s name is Zachery Thompson. His number is 225-783-9064. My parents are Lidia and Tom Dross. They live in Fredonia, Arizona. Their number is 928-898-8028. I finish signing and put my hands down as my stomach threatens to try voiding what little is left in my stomach. I close my eyes because of my headache and somehow fall asleep.
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Waking up didn’t suck as much this time although the weight on my chest is confusing as hell. Opening my eyes, I see a head of spiked blonde hair laying on me. Tears start to fall as I realize that it’s Zach and he’s sobbing into my chest. I lay my hand on his head, and his face jerks around to look at me. You're getting my clothes wet silly I sign at him. I manage to get small chuckle out of him but it disappears as he puts his head in his hands and cries again.
“I should have been there. I should have walked with you and then none of this would have happened.”
You don’t know that. You could have just been hurt too. There were two of them Zach. They could have easily taken both of us. I’m glad you weren’t there. You could have been hurt.
“I could have tried. Be honest with me Michael. How bad?”
The tears fall faster from my face. I’m not ready for honesty. I’m not ready to talk about it but I know that I never will be really ready for it. Bad. Really, really bad. They… I pause finding it difficult to continue. They beat me. They kicked me and one of them, he beat me with his belt. They… they raped me Zach. Both of them raped me because they knew that I couldn’t scream or call for help. I was helpless. My wrist is broken and I can tell some of my ribs are too. I’m sure there are cuts on my body and I hurt. Zach I really hurt. I put my hands down and just cry. Sobs rack my body but no noise comes out. I can’t even get the release of pain through screams.
Zach grabs one of my hands and cries with me. He doesn’t even try to tell me it’s going to be ok because we both know it won’t be.
Takumi: Never e-mailed someone about updates before. Hopefully I don't disappoint.
Lisa: I was very, very scared there for a second that you really hated my story. I was going to be very sad. I did change for this chapter like you suggested. Hopefully it looks better. It looks different on my lappy. I go to Christopher Newport University in Newport News, VA. I love my school!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Waking up sucks. I have managed to open my eyes after an eternity of being semi-awake but still having nightmares. My brain feels fuzzy and something is covering part of my face. I lift my left arm to pull the thing off my face but find out instead that flexing my wrist causes nauseating levels of pain. Looking at my arm, I see that from my knuckles down is covered in a cast. Then I remember that the nightmares weren’t really nightmares: they were memories. My mind clears as adrenaline punches my system and my eyes flair wide. I look around and see all the equipment around me indicative of a hospital. I’m not dead or if I am, this is the scariest brand of after-life ever. I hate hospitals. I jerk my head towards the door when I hear it open. The nurse who walks in seems surprised to see me awake. She recovers quickly and gives me a smile.
“Hey sweetheart. You’re ok. You’re being taken care of. You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital and I’m looking after you for the next few hours. Are you ready to get that mask off?” I nod vigorously. “Alright. Well lift your head a little. Good.” The mask slips off and take a deep breath of the uniquely hospital air. “Now. Do you remember your name? There was no identification on you when you were found.” I nod again and bring up my hands to tell her. The pain in my wrist is horrid and the needle digging in my other arm makes me want to vomit. She places her hands on mine and pushes them down. “You need to put your arms down. Can you tell me your name?” I pull my hands back up and begin to sign at her but she just looks confused.
Finally I mouth at her, “I can’t speak.” Knowledge dawns.
“Oh. You’re mute aren’t you?” I nod and the look of pity on her face makes me want to throw something. “You know ASL?” I nod again beginning to feel exasperated at this conversation. “I’ll get someone who can translate.” God damn it. More bloody translators. Why can’t I just find someone who knows ASL the first time instead of somebody having to learn the damn signs or find a translator. My annoyance is starting to make my head throb even more so I just lay back and try to calm my ass down. Speaking of ass, fuck it hurts. Why does it hurt so much? I’m confused until the nightmare plays in my head again and now I’m sure I’m going to vomit. Luckily the nurse walks back in, sees my distress and hands me the pan. I empty the small contents of my stomach and sit back even though my stomach is still doing some rather large flips.
“This is Andrew. He knows sign language and can help you communicate with the rest of the hospital staff.” Andrew does some little wave thing and asks me for my name.
I sign to him Michael. Michael Lee Dross. I go to LSU and I want somebody to contact my roommate and my parents. My roommate’s name is Zachery Thompson. His number is 225-783-9064. My parents are Lidia and Tom Dross. They live in Fredonia, Arizona. Their number is 928-898-8028. I finish signing and put my hands down as my stomach threatens to try voiding what little is left in my stomach. I close my eyes because of my headache and somehow fall asleep.
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Waking up didn’t suck as much this time although the weight on my chest is confusing as hell. Opening my eyes, I see a head of spiked blonde hair laying on me. Tears start to fall as I realize that it’s Zach and he’s sobbing into my chest. I lay my hand on his head, and his face jerks around to look at me. You're getting my clothes wet silly I sign at him. I manage to get small chuckle out of him but it disappears as he puts his head in his hands and cries again.
“I should have been there. I should have walked with you and then none of this would have happened.”
You don’t know that. You could have just been hurt too. There were two of them Zach. They could have easily taken both of us. I’m glad you weren’t there. You could have been hurt.
“I could have tried. Be honest with me Michael. How bad?”
The tears fall faster from my face. I’m not ready for honesty. I’m not ready to talk about it but I know that I never will be really ready for it. Bad. Really, really bad. They… I pause finding it difficult to continue. They beat me. They kicked me and one of them, he beat me with his belt. They… they raped me Zach. Both of them raped me because they knew that I couldn’t scream or call for help. I was helpless. My wrist is broken and I can tell some of my ribs are too. I’m sure there are cuts on my body and I hurt. Zach I really hurt. I put my hands down and just cry. Sobs rack my body but no noise comes out. I can’t even get the release of pain through screams.
Zach grabs one of my hands and cries with me. He doesn’t even try to tell me it’s going to be ok because we both know it won’t be.