From the LeftBay Files
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
686
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
686
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Untitled Oneshot
warning: mention of child abuse, rape,
~*~*~*~
Michael was always Blake’s closest friend. But things were easier before Cal was outed.
Cal was always quiet and people called him Blake’s charity case. No one knew anything about Cal’s home life, and Cal kept it that way. He was a pro at turning the conversation back on to the initiator, because the truth is, people are more willing to talk about themselves.
Blake met Cal when he was twelve. Blake was always violent, his family problems weren’t hidden like Cal’s. Everyone knew his brother was in and out of prison, everyone knew what Mr. Mitchell called his eldest son and everyone knew it was the truth. Faggot
Blake learnt at an early age that if he wanted something done he had to do it himself. It was no secret Mrs. Mitchell was addicted to pain medication, and that the Mitchell boys spent time with Miss Sparkle, the transvestite across the road, just to get a hot meal into them once a week. At least until Mr. Mitchell found out.
Kids are cruel.
Blake knew if he wanted the kids to stop talking about his family he was going to have to make them. And he did.
Blake spent time when he was twelve at Leftbay. It was hoped his temper would dissipate away from the influence of his family. Everyone knew that.
Only a few people knew that Cal was there because his father and uncle had raped him, and allowed others to, for a price.
Cal was fourteen. He’d been there for six years.
~~
Blake hated the recreation room. The room was full of loonies. He wasn’t a loony. His mother was. She should be here. Not him.
Blake refused to talk to the others. He refused to paint, he refused to read. Blake crossed his arms and stared out the flexi glass windows at the wavering landscape beyond.
Blake ignored the girl with the bald patches as she began to scream, and pull out her hair. He ignored the Attendings rushing her from the room, leaving them alone. He ignored the three teenagers approaching the blond kid in the corner.
But he couldn’t ignore their words. Faggot
Blake didn’t know the kids names, but he had their blood on his hands, and a tooth from one of their mouths lay near his foot.
~~
When Blake was allowed back in the rec room the blond kid wasn’t there. Neither were the ones he’d hurt.
Blake painted. A black page. A red splodge in the middle. Vertical grey lines ran the length of the page. They asked what it was. He assured them he didn’t know. But somehow he thought maybe that was his future.
~~
The blond boy approached him in the rec room.
Blake stared out the wavering world beyond the glass for a long time after he left.
His words still ringing in Blake’s ears
Thank You.
~~
Cal spoke to Blake whenever they met. He wanted to know how Blake was doing. He wanted to know if Blake wanted his pudding. He wanted to know if Blake was okay. And he wanted to know why Blake was angry.
Years later, long after Cal was outed. Long after Blake told him it didn’t matter. Long after Blake realised he loved Cal back. Years later, Blake realised it was Cal who helped him the most.
And Blake had never given anything in return. When he told Cal this, the blond, now greying, would smile sweetly, kiss Blake and say ‘you were enough’.
~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~
Michael was always Blake’s closest friend. But things were easier before Cal was outed.
Cal was always quiet and people called him Blake’s charity case. No one knew anything about Cal’s home life, and Cal kept it that way. He was a pro at turning the conversation back on to the initiator, because the truth is, people are more willing to talk about themselves.
Blake met Cal when he was twelve. Blake was always violent, his family problems weren’t hidden like Cal’s. Everyone knew his brother was in and out of prison, everyone knew what Mr. Mitchell called his eldest son and everyone knew it was the truth. Faggot
Blake learnt at an early age that if he wanted something done he had to do it himself. It was no secret Mrs. Mitchell was addicted to pain medication, and that the Mitchell boys spent time with Miss Sparkle, the transvestite across the road, just to get a hot meal into them once a week. At least until Mr. Mitchell found out.
Kids are cruel.
Blake knew if he wanted the kids to stop talking about his family he was going to have to make them. And he did.
Blake spent time when he was twelve at Leftbay. It was hoped his temper would dissipate away from the influence of his family. Everyone knew that.
Only a few people knew that Cal was there because his father and uncle had raped him, and allowed others to, for a price.
Cal was fourteen. He’d been there for six years.
~~
Blake hated the recreation room. The room was full of loonies. He wasn’t a loony. His mother was. She should be here. Not him.
Blake refused to talk to the others. He refused to paint, he refused to read. Blake crossed his arms and stared out the flexi glass windows at the wavering landscape beyond.
Blake ignored the girl with the bald patches as she began to scream, and pull out her hair. He ignored the Attendings rushing her from the room, leaving them alone. He ignored the three teenagers approaching the blond kid in the corner.
But he couldn’t ignore their words. Faggot
Blake didn’t know the kids names, but he had their blood on his hands, and a tooth from one of their mouths lay near his foot.
~~
When Blake was allowed back in the rec room the blond kid wasn’t there. Neither were the ones he’d hurt.
Blake painted. A black page. A red splodge in the middle. Vertical grey lines ran the length of the page. They asked what it was. He assured them he didn’t know. But somehow he thought maybe that was his future.
~~
The blond boy approached him in the rec room.
Blake stared out the wavering world beyond the glass for a long time after he left.
His words still ringing in Blake’s ears
Thank You.
~~
Cal spoke to Blake whenever they met. He wanted to know how Blake was doing. He wanted to know if Blake wanted his pudding. He wanted to know if Blake was okay. And he wanted to know why Blake was angry.
Years later, long after Cal was outed. Long after Blake told him it didn’t matter. Long after Blake realised he loved Cal back. Years later, Blake realised it was Cal who helped him the most.
And Blake had never given anything in return. When he told Cal this, the blond, now greying, would smile sweetly, kiss Blake and say ‘you were enough’.
~*~*~*~