The Real Scömìche

Scott

I just stood there in the bathroom, arms around Mitch, tears streaming down my face. I saw how crushed he was that I was upset and tried to stop the flow but the memories of not just the last week, but from years ago.

He laughed coldly, towering over me and my roommate, who he then forced out. The door shut with a snap, making me flinch. A smug smile appeared as he saw the fear I tried to exile from my eyes. My thoughts flashed to Mitch, my best friend; if he ever found out about the things Alex did to me, I knew the pain I would be in might break me. And I knew I wasn't the only one Alex tortured. I hoped with all my heart that he wouldn't try to get to Mitch, who had found himself a handsome new boyfriend after a year and a half of being judged for the way he was born after coming out. I would be lying if I said I didn't like Mitch in a more romantic way, but there was no way that he would ever like me in the same way, especially not if he found out about this. I mean, every time Alex came over, I would do something completely wrong, so he would feel forced to punish me, though he assured me that definitely didn't want to use the knife. I deserved the scars didn't I?

Alex grabbed my shoulder where the newest slit was, 'accidentally' digging his finger into the cut. He pushed me onto the sofa, nibbling my neck, where I could feel a bruise beginning to form. He climbed on top of me, so I was trapped, and pushed his hips against mine, pulling at my shirt harshly. He picked up the knife, putting on a puppy dog face but then pushed the knife into my arm, dragging it through my skin, blood pouring out. He took off his clothes and then slapped me. "Get undressed, idiot!" He hissed between rough, aggressive kisses. I laughed awkwardly at my own stupidity, trying to stop the tears of pain forming in my eyes. I finally let his slimy tongue enter my mouth after a warning and another cut on my bicep, and one of his hands drifted to my waist, then further down, unsettling me. I could feel my body tensing under his cold touch. He rested his sharp elbow on my open wounds, commanding me to kiss him. I hesitated. His eyes turned black with cold fury, digging his elbow harder into my ruined, bloody shoulder.
"I said fucking kiss me, you pathetic loser!" He screamed whilst still whispering. I reluctantly raised my head and began to kiss him gently, trying to ignore the brand new slit Alex had so kindly created. I shut my eyes, trying to shut out the pain, and failing. It was like a poison spreading through my veins, forcing out my innocence and hope.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Mitch demanded as I hunched over my coffee mug.

"If it was you, would you have told me?" Mitch was silent. "Exactly."

"I'm sorry Scott. I just love you too much to ever think you might not be everything I thought..." Mitch trailed off, biting his lip, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey, hey. I love you, Mitchie, more than anything, even Beyoncé!" I feebly joked, looking for a smile on his melancholy face, but only a flash of amusement appeared. He took a deep breath.

"Okay. You told me something horrible from your past, so I'm going to tell you something horrible from mine." He took another breath and began to tell me a story.