Only the Heart Knows Why, Quax's Days

Only the Heart Knows Why, Quax's Days

Six: Rain is a State of Mind



It was cold. There was a stiff breeze that rolled the tumultuous clouds across the sky, illuminated under the glow of the moon. It was full tonight, but was threatened to be hidden before long. I wrapped my arms around myself tightly. It was cold, much too cold to be outside, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it was about to start raining. I didn't even have a jacket with me, so what could I do? Anyone else would have knocked on the door, but I'd choose hypothermia over waking my dad a hundredfold. So I started doing the baiic routines to stave off the extreme cold. I ran my hands slowly over my arms and chest, and took longer, deeper breaths.



I gave the rest of the house a quick scan and nothing else was unlocked or open, so either he really didn't want me to come in, or tonight really wasn't my night. There was also no sound coming out from inside, so no one was going to be able to let me in. I couldn't see why though, it was only eleven.



Still, dwelling on it wasn't going to help anyone so I sat on the porch and hugged my knees to my chest. I was so cold now, and growing colder still, but with little choice I closed my eyes to tried to sleep, praying my prediction of the rain was wrong.



Unfortunately, just ten minutes later, I found out just how wrong I was. The rain started lightly at first, as light flickers over my face, but before too long it was steady and working with the wind to force me to my feet. There was no where to find shelter around here, no trees or sides of the house that could protect me from the cold, so I made off down the street at a run, looking for any shelter.



I couldn't think of anyone I could go to. This time of the night, everyone I knew was asleep and I didn't know anyone who worked night shifts or anything. As far as I knew, I was on my own.



Around the corner, I found myself stopping in front of Kanau's home. The wondrous garden seemed desolate and the combination of the darkness and rain made it feel uninviting. I was tempted to check here for help, but I doubted he would help me. And as well as that, I would rather preserve any chance that we might still be friends. Besides, it's just wind and rain, right? It couldn't be that bad of a situation.



So I kept on going. I knew now I was going to be out here for a while, so running now seemed futile. The streets were cold and uninviting, there was not a soul around. The closer to the city I got, the brightness and frequency of streetlights increase, making the shadows seem longer and deeper, and the air seemed filled with even more rain. I can feel my fingers start go to numb, so I turn into an alley with an canopy over hanging a door and sit down under it, shivering uncontrollably and hugging my knees.



Before long I feel my eyes start to drop and just as I feel I'm about to fall into the most broken, terrible sleep of my life, I hear a noise off in the distance. It sounds like some kind of distant music, so I lean forward to try and make out where it's coming from. I wiped some rain from my eyes just to see an old man stumbling through the shadows. He had a long trench coat on, and his long, silvery white hair ran slick with rain down over his shoulders. A bottle was clutched in his hand, which he took swigs from between his erratic lyrics.



His random words made me smile, but I knew better than to talk to some random drunk guy in the middle of the night. Especially in the rain, only the real freaks and people with horrible fathers would be out in this weather. I pulled back into the shadows as much as I could and held my mouth shut. Please, I thought, just go passed, don't see me. My prayers were getting answered. He was almost passed me when he turned around and stared right at me. His eyes were long and hard. I was very frightened.



"Well, looky here little Ducky," he slurred, ambling over in my direction. He stood over me and even though I was sitting down, I knew he towered over me in height, as well as being quite a bit wider than me. I could feel myself shaking again, this time not just from the cold. I could smell the alcohol from here.



"What's the matter, Ducky?" he asked me, leaning down and roughly grabbing my shoulder. I yelped in pain and grabbed his hand.



"Please, that hurts, just let me go," I blurted out, closing my eyes tightly.



"Huh? Woss that?" He growled, tightening his grip on me and lifting me up to my feet. I cried out, but that just made him clench his hand even tighter until the pain was nearly blinding me. "You got some lip on you, ya pink-haired faggot."



I was still seething in pain when he leaned forward and put his mouth over mine, his tongue slobberingly probing my mouth with his tongue. It tasted horrible, like a mixture of cheap alcohol and tobacco, so I struggled and pulled away from him.



"What, too good for me, faggot?" He slurred at me and threw me down onto the concrete. The fall hurt, but the relief of having my shoulder free meant I was now feeling better overall. Well, physically, I thought as I looked up to see him dropping his pants down around his ankles. I backed up until I was against the alley wall and started shaking more than ever. But the man looked down at me dispassionately and took a knife from his belt. "You see this?" he said, waving it in front of me. I nodded to him nervously. "If you don't do what I say, you're gonna get this in the neck, alright?"



I was too scared to reply, my fear paralyzing my body, so he leaned down and made a light cut over my upper arm. "I asked you a question, faggot." I clutched my arm as a small stream of blood oozed down to my elbow, mixed in with the water from the rain. "We have an understanding?"



I nodded at him as he lazily waved the blade in front me. He grinned broadly as he hauled me to my knees. "Good kid," he muttered as he pulled my hair back, making my mouth open roughly and tears started to well around my eyes, "you remember that and we'll get along just fine."



He slowly pulled my face closer to his groin and I stared at his... Thing in disgust. It was crooked and shriveled, and completely undeserving of the name 'penis'. I felt sick as it smelt like he hadn't showered in a month. I clenched my mouth shut tight but he slowly pressed his knife against my throat and I very reluctantly opened my mouth to him.



"Suck it," he said roughly, jerking on my hair lightly. I closed my eyes tightly and drew my lips in tight over him. I sucked lightly, running my tongue across the underside out of reflex. I didn't care if he liked it or not, I just wanted to get this over with so he would leave me alone and I could sleep.



"Faster!" he barked as he started to grow hard in my mouth. I sucked him harder, drawing my lips slowly across his length. "I said faster, faggot," he yelled, emphasizing it by letting go of my hair just long enough to slap me. The sting of it lanced across my face and it made me bite down on him lightly. This got me slapped again. "Fuckin' bite again and I'll cutt off your ear."



I could feel the tears in my eyes start to roll down my cheeks, mixing with the rain, and I started to rock my head back and forth faster, running my tongue faster and sucking harder. The faster I got, the more he accentuated it by thrusting himself in and out my mouth. After a while, he started pushing in further than I could take and I gagged lightly. I fought my every urge not to clamp my mouth shut.



Before long, he gave one final, deep thrust and pushed my nose right up into his groin. The smell didn't help me fight against throwing up, but I could feel him reaching his climax and I felt as his juices were shot down into my throat. I was forced to either swallow it or choke, and when he finally pulled out and let go of my hair, I slumped against the wall.



Please, I thought, just leave me alone.



"I like you, kid," he said, staring down at me, "you're one of the best cock suckers I know after that." He grinned broadly, but maliciously at me and knelt down. "Maybe I'll take you home with me and you can be my personal little slave boy."



I watched him, still terrified at what he might do to me and watched him bring the knife down towards me. Oh God, was he going to kill me now?



He hooked the blade under the collar of my shirt and cut it all the way down. He finished it off by cutting my sleeves and looked down at me, probing my slight build with his eyes. He did the same to my pants next, leaving me in just my underwear. I cringed and turned my head away. I just didn't want to see myself like this.



Of course, I wasn't just in my underwear for long. He removed those too and threw all of my clothes into a pile. Right next to the trash cans. What was I going to do now if I got away? I'd have to wait until the morning and walk home naked.



The man reached down and ran a hand lightly over my stomach and chest. "You've got the cutest little girly body, you know," he said. His hand slowly made its way lower until I felt him slide his fingers around my penis. I'll admit, it's not the biggest one in the world, but while this guy was touching it, I'd never in my life wished I didn't have one more. "Do you like this?" he asked while rubbing his fingers across it lightly. I tried not to think about it, but every touch made me tingle lightly and I felt myself growing hard. I cringed, knowing that is what he wanted, and not what I wanted. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could and tried to things about the least sexy thing I could think of. Unfortunately, my thoughts betrayed me and whenever the jolts of pleasure shot through me, all I could picture is Kanau's face, and those eyes.



He wrapped his hand around me now and grinned while watching me squirm. He stroked me back and forth lightly, which made me gasp lightly. He tightened his grip and despite my efforts to stop it, I let out soft moans to him.



"You really are a little faggot, aren't you" he muttered while grinning and letting go of me. My breath takes a minute to return to normal, but before it's completely under control he roughly grabs me by my knees and lifts the lower half of my body off the ground. He shifted about about positioned himself ready to take me, and without warning he thrust himself in.



I cried out in pain, lifting myself up onto my elbows for a second and reaching out to stop him. The pain was deep and intense. It wasn't as bad as things my father has done, but the mental assault here made it so much worse.



Once he was all the way in, he started thrusting himself in and out relentlessly. With every thrust he pushed a little deeper. With every thrust he pushed a little deeper. With every thrust, my exposed back grazed harshly over the gravel and grit on the ground. It stung a lot and I could feel blood oozing under me, mixing with the rain water and staining what was left of my clothes.



---+++---



That was the worst hour of my life. My life hasn't been easy, but nothing before could compare to the helplessness, the vulnerability or the humiliation he gave me. The only word I could think to describe it is 'broken'. He broke my body and my spirit, and he stll didn't stop.



My clothes lay in a tattered heap beside me and were stained with a combination of blood and water. The rain stopped, just leaving the air in a light mist as the man continued to circle me hungrily, a lone shark staring down the remains of it's meal.



He grabbed me by my hair again and lifted me to my feet. I didn't have the strength to hold myself up, so he held me against the wall. "What game should we play now, Ducky?"



Suddenly, the alley was filled with a brilliant light. I closed my eyes and looked away, but the man holding me up howled in pain and dropped me, covering his eyes with his hands and crying out in discomfort.



"What's going on in there?" I heard a familiar voice call out. It was so familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on where I knew it from. I reached out with my hand to block off the source of the light, but all I could see was the shadow of someone amongst it. He was tall, and had long hair. That much I could figure out, but as he started walking closer, my vision was starting to blur. I didn't even know who he was, but he sounded so familiar. Someone protective. I slowly slipped into unconsciousness, but I suddenly felt safe.



---+++---



I don't think I slept. I remember hearing thudding noises. I remember being lifted off the ground. The only thing I know for sure wasn't a dream was the image of me sitting in a car, wrapped in a blanket, and staring listlessly out the window. I wasn't myself. I couldn't be. I've seen black days, but not like this. I'd never felt empty, defeated or worthless like this before. I was just pathetic. A pathetic excuse for a man, though I doubt I could really prove I was one to begin with. But, I don't care. Right now, all I wanted to do was to sit in this car seat and sleep. I couldn't, but I was so unaware of myself that the time just flew by as though I were.



Before long, I found myself sitting at a familiar table in a familiar place. There was a mug of coffee in my hands, and it tasted like I'd had a few mouthfuls. I heard shifting from across the room and looked over to see Atarun moving about.



So, Atarun was my hero. I was in no place to care right now, so I just took a sip of my coffee and idly watched him. At first I thought he was making himself a coffe, but then he turned around and I saw he had a phone against his ear. I sighed, knowing who he was probably calling. Atarun worked with my father, they worked at some company that makes roads. My father's higher up the corporate ladder than Atarun, but they're from different departments, so he can't boss him around. I closed my eyes and tried to return to my daze, but I guess the coffee started to work and I couldn't slip away any further.



After a few minutes and a couple more mouthfuls of coffee, Atarun came over and sat next to me. He had his own coffee and set it down, but turned to me.



"So," he said, using his usual direct tone, "you going to tell me what happened?"



I watched him as he spoke, but afterwards my eyes drifted down to the coffee. What should I do now? I suppose a smart person would go to the police, but I just wanted to forget. I wanted to close my eyes, push everything out and forget. I wanted to sleep.



I shook my head to Atarun. The last thing I wanted to do right now was talk about it. Reliving it would be near a suicidal action.



"Did you tell them what happened?" I asked, my voice little more then a hoarse whisper.



Atarun just shook his head and drank a mouthful off his coffee. He's a real man, he doesn't need to sip it when it's hot. "That's your thing to talk about, kid," he said, a little more softly than he usually does, "besides, I know what your old man did the last time something like that happened."



I sighed. He heard about that? After what happened at my old school, and for those unenlightened few, it involved a fake party, alocohol, getting drugged and being completely taken advantage of. I guess some people would think that what happened then is worse than what happened tonight. I never could pin down the details of what happened, but it didn't stop the school from expelling me, or my father from thinking I was a worthless little slut. Maybe he was right. Maybe all this shit happens to me and no one else for a reason.



"I talked to you mother," Atarun said, breaking my chain of thought. I looked up at him and found him giving me that usual stern gaze. "She said she was worried about you after not coming home after work."



I smiled a little on the inside, more over the irony. My mother didn't care about me. She didn't come out and say it, but the only reason she wanted me around at all was because I was the closest thing to that baby girl she always wanted but never got. No, instead she gets herself a little cross-dressing, pink-haired faggot for a son. She gets this; a meek, pathetic excuse for a son who's only still around to fulfill some deluded fantasy of hers. If she cared, if she really cared about me, she would have gotten me out of there a long time ago. Long before any of this happened.



"I said you could stay here tonight, but you've got to go home tomorrow." I looked up into his eyes. "You don't have tto go to school, though. You can just stay here until you have to go home, if you want."



I just sat there looking him in the eyes. For the first time in hours, it suddenly dawned on me what happened. It suddenly dawned on my what the man did to me. What pain it caused, and what it's going to mean for the rest of my life. The whole night flashed before my eyes. I was going to have a good night. I got to have a shower before work, my dad was asleep when I got home, I was going to have a good night's sleep and have a harsh reminder of my life in the morning. This wasn't my good night. My perfect vision for my evening. This was much, much worse. This was the worst night of my life.



My head dropped. I covered my face with my hands and cried. Atarun moved closer and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned my face into his chest and just cried.