Lord Have Mercy...

Hatered

Travis is finally home after a long day of school, honestly he would much rather sit in that shithole than be at home. I mean, can you blame him? At least he's free from his father and his brutal tyranny. School may not be the ideal but it's good enough for Travis, especially when hes able to talk to him. Even just seeing him makes it worth going to that ass of a shitpile.

Walking into the kitchen the switched the lights. He seated himself on an old creaky chair and slid his back pack under the dinner table. Ultimately, he can rest for a couple of hours until father comes back from the church meeting.

He let out a deep sigh. His eyes slowly began closeing whilst he drifted off into a sweet slumber. The leaves gently twirled and twisted in the quiet breeze outside. The stars shimmering in the dark sky illuminating the surface of Earth. The house was cold and noisless, just how Phelps liked it.

A loud rattling noise came from the front door suddenly. An ominous black figure emerged from the shadows of the night. It was heading towards the dazed boy. Travis was jolted awake, oh god...oh god no... its piercing gaze met Travis' stare. The fury on its face was undeniably terrifying. His father was back, and he wasn't too happy.

Oh shit... muttered Travis as he was dragged onto the floor by his short blonde hair.

"HOW DARE YOU REBEL AGAINST GOD?! WHO ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??!" The kitchen shook fearfully. His yells now hazy and obscure. Travis couldn't hear a word said as he was repeatedly kicked in the stomach. Excruciating pain circulated his body whilst red gore poured out of his mouth. This was one of the worst beatings he has received in a while.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU YOUNG BOY" his father spat "HOW DARE YPU BRING SUCH DISGRACE INTO THE FAMILY WITH YOUR....WITH YOUR...YOUR SINFUL THOUGHTS!?!"

Travis' conscious stated attempted to reason what his father's words. What was he on about? His sinful thoughts? What?

As a kid Travis was always taught that sinners deserve agony, and agony only. The only way to become pure is from pain and suffering. Somehow, Travis still carried out his sins. In the eyes of god homosexuality was an abomination... Then, why did he have such ideals? God must of despised him and his entire existence. There was no way our greatest creator could love such a disgusting creature. No one, especially a boy like Phelps, should have these...these, these sick fantasies!! It was revolting, it was incorrect.

However, Travis was straight now! God could finally love him. Even tho he may have been cured the disgust still lingers somewhere deep down.

Travis met Sally "Face" Fisher on his second sophomore year of highschool.  Initially, Phelps hated everything about Sal. Theew was something about him he couldn't stand.

Sal was everything Travis ever despised. He always had a distaste to smart asses he didn't need to study for a test to ace it. Sally's voice always pissed off Phelps, it was so calm and collected. However, it ways expressed so many emotions. Even when he was angry Sal had that composed tone in his voice. His unnaturally vibrant blue hair nearly always tied up in two  low pigtails, or his emotionless mask that never seemed phased. Or his kind and caring nature, somehow always on his way to help. Or even how comfortable he seemed in his own skin. All of this made Travis' blood boil. Sally Face possessed so many talents Travis didn't. But the thing that Travis hated the most was that Sal was a fag, a fucking homo. I mean, how could he not be?? A guy that paints his nails and hangs out with a group of queers must be a faggot himself. There was no other logical explanation to it. He and his pathetic group could fuck off and die in a ditch for all Travis cared. In actually fact it would be much better if they did, god would never love sal and his homo gang. So why should Phelps??

But, Travis could never put his finger on why Sal made his stomach flip upsidown. Even though he was straight he couldn't look away from Fisher. Why was he so attracted to that social reject? He really must of him for him to always have his eyes on Sally. Travis was completely straight after all. It really must of been from hatred, right? Yeah, it was just from pure hatred. That's why. Or, maybe not-?

It was the beginning of Autumn. The puddles outside began plinking as the light pitter-patter progressively became heavier. The sun was covered by grim clouds. Cold dense air entered the still classroom through a singular open window. Class was about to end in 3...2..1 RING RING. A swarm of kids emerged from their classes, all heading in one direction. Loud chatter spread in the narrow hallways and laughter imploded from all over. Travis was standing up from his desk, grabbing tightly onto his worn out backpack glancing carefully at the others. Oh how "lovely" it is to be going back home on such a day. If he doesn't hurry his ass up he'll get soaked again. What a pain.

He sprinted down filled corridors, pushing past kids until-

"OW, WATCH OUT WHERE YOU GO DUMBASS-" Travis had stumbled onto the wet school floors, his wounded knee bursting open. Wrath bottled up in his chest. He glared at the flooring, his eyebrows hunched and his fists clenched.

"Oh god, sorry man. You okay? Didn't mean to bump into you like that."

A familiar voice echoed from behind him. It was soft and gentle, it had a funny accent to it. You could hear the genuine concern in it. A warm rush grew on Travis' face, his heart quickening. He felt a slight sickness in his throat, as if he was about to throw up. He turned around facing the small figure in front of him. Its skinny hands extended, indicating for Phelps to grab it. It's two length pigtails slowly coming undone and its baggy clothes hanged off it's short body.

It was Sal.

"Fuck off Sally Face. And don't touch me!!" Travis raised from the ground, pushing the other boy out of his way. His busted knee stung like a bitch, the bruising on it enlarged. Thick red blood trickled down his leg.

"Oh your knee looks pretty nasty, hang on man I might have some bandaids...hmm" Sal said whilst he bent down to search through his backpack. It seemed to be quite old, it was covered in stickers and patches to keep it intact.

"Leave me alone shrinky dinky, I can take care of myself fuck wards" snapped Phelps.

"It's just a bandaid Trav, let me help you" He grinned through his mask. Travis noticed that whenever Sally smiled you can faintly see his eyes softly  scrunch up. A cold wave of sweat passed through Travis. Fucking freak, he and his creepy mask. Ugh, and once a-fucking-gain with that nice and loving nature of his. It was so annoying and uncalled for. Why did he care so much? Travis didn't want to waste his time on someone like Fisher.

"Fine Fisher, whatever. Ugh, fucking freak" Sally took off the plastic packaging and carefully applied it to Travis' knee. He seemed pretty content with his accomplishment. Sally Face quietly laughed under his breath. It made Travis' heart stop. The nauseation intensely perpetuated.

Travis hated him so fucking much...