Escaping Is Never Easy (BoyxMan)

Chapter one

It's been a long time, but here you go. :)

Picture of Zachary to the >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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Zachary's P. O. V

I opened my eyes to find myself staring at the same familiar ceiling that I have been looking at for months now. Dusty, cracked, and colored an ugly off set white. Oh how I detest that color now. I sighed and rolled over to glance at the digital clock that was resting on the cheap nightstand next to bed.

The bright red numbers that read 12:45 a.m. stood out from the bleak room, almost the only color that could be seen. I groaned, running a hand through my messy dirty blond hair in annoyance. I winced when the palm of my hand brushed the bruised skin on my cheek that throbbed faintly. I pulled my hand back and glared at the wall in front of me, pissed off.

I swear that I can be so stupid some times that you wouldn't have thought that I was actually a really smart kid. A straight A student in fact. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? I'm just hurting myself from all that disobedience, I really need to teach myself some survival instincts, because one of these days I'm going to end up getting killed.

I sat up slowly, hissing in pain as my lower back set off a series of pains that stabbed at me with every move I made. I gritted my teeth and climbed out of my crappy bed that barley provided comfort with its thin mattress and sharp springs that dug into my back as I slept.

Good god I felt like shit, like I was hit by a flight train or something! Using the nightstand for support I limped carefully to the bathroom to go take a shower. I was covered in nastiness, some dried blood and semen that coated my chest, not to mention I stunk of sweat and sex. Its overpowering stench filled my nose, making it scrunch up in disgust.

I walked into the bathroom and peeled off my boxers that stuck to me like glue and threw them into the sink, mentally reminding myself to wash them when I was done with my shower.

I turned on the shower, making sure to put it on warm and watched as steam rose from off of the tiled floor and fogged up the small, cracked mirror. Carefully, as to not agitate my sore muscles and aching back, I stepped into the shower and instantly basked in the warmth of the water.

I sighed in contentment and relaxed my stiff shoulders. Grabbing the shampoo, I wet my hair and began the slow process of washing it, making sure to massage my scalp thoroughly, almost falling asleep in the process from how good it felt.

In the meantime, thoughts of how fucked up my life is, and how it came to be this way invaded my mind.

If only I hadn't met the guy, if only Tristan had never came into my life this would have never have happened. Tristan with his charming self that I instantly fell for in such a short time, every gay man's dream guy. Funny, gentle, kind, smart, gook looking, the perfect guy, too perfect in fact. But my naive self didn't think twice about that, that maybe he's not as perfect as you think, maybe he's hiding something dark behind that set of pearly whites.

No my naive self was too busy swooning over him, delighted in the fact that such a guy would choose me. Not that I was ugly or dumb or anything like that. No, I was a pretty handsome guy, at least that's what everyone said. I was also wickedly smart and awesome at sports, so I guess it wasn't so hard to think of us as a couple.

But what pissed me off the most is that I could fall for such trickery, such foreplay. Never once sensing any danger, any fakeness in the way he acted, talked, anything about him. To think it was even possible to slip past by me so easily like that just left me speechless.