nowhere to go ⇮ brallon

⇮1

Brendon's POV
I was making the bed when I heard the front door open. When I heard it slam shut my breath caught in my throat, I knew it was him, my boyfriend Max- I mean Sir. He was mad, I could already tell from across the house.

He came into our bedroom and immediately started screaming at me and pushed me onto the floor. "You knew that my dinner was supposed to be on the table by now! That's how it goes every day, what's your excuse slut?! I know you'll have one, you always try to think of a way to get out of stuff! But it's not going to work. You're not eating for a week, and you'll be lucky if it's only that long." He smacked me across the face after he finished, with a look of pure hatred for me in his eyes.  I did nothing but sit there and cry. 

"I'm going out, be on the bed waiting for me or else you'll just make things rougher on yourself." He said, spitting the words at me, causing me to flinch away in fear. I shook my head yes, even though I wanted to talk back, I knew better than to. "Use your words, whore."

"O-okay." I said, barely above a whisper.

"What was that, Brendon?! And what do you call me?!" He yelled, getting closer to my face as he did. I could feel the venom of his words soak into my skin.

"O-o-okay, Sir. I'll be on the b-bed when you get home."

"That's what I thought." He said, smiling as if he was proud of himself, proud of how he treats his boyfriend. If you could even call me his boyfriend, I was more like his slave, or maid. I did everything in the house. I cooked, I cleaned, I gave him whatever he wanted, out of fear of course. And on top of that, I always had to call him Sir and be ready for him to have "sex" with me, even though it was complete rape and not sex.

"And get the fuck up off of the floor, you look like a bitch sitting there crying."  He kicked me in the side before walking away, slamming the door on his way out. My sobs shook my body, and I soon fell asleep to the sound of my loud cries.
—
I woke up to a rough kick to the shin, which was soon followed by yelling in my face. "I fucking told you that I wanted you on the bed waiting for me when I got home! I fucking told you! But you didn't listen, you can never just fucking listen can you?! I told you it would make it easier on you, but now it's gonna be rough, just the way you know I fucking like it!"

I started crying, knowing that there would be no talking him out of this.  He was mad, and I didn't want to make it worse than I already had.

He grabbed my arms and pulled me roughly to my feet and then pushed me down on the bed. I was still crying, but he didn't care, he never cared. He unzipped my jeans and threw them onto the ground, before flipping me over onto my stomach. I began to try to think of anything else, of anything better than this, but it was no use. I was stuck underneath him crying while he used me like a toy, just as he does almost every night.  Every time I cried as if it was the first time he's done it, and every time I pray it will be the last.  But it never is, and I begin to lose hope.

When he had finished with me for the night, he kicked me out of the bedroom and made me sleep on the couch, I didn't mind though, I could normally sleep sounder there than I could when I was next to him and all I could think about was that he could wake up any moment and take advantage of me again, even though right now there's nothing except a hallway stopping him from doing it, it still offered me a small amount of comfort. But tonight, tonight I couldn't sleep. Tonight I never stopped crying, and the "sex" hurt exceptionally bad and made me more sore than usual. My thoughts soon began to race through my head and I could feel an anxiety attacking coming my way.

There's nobody on this Earth that would care if you died, Brendon. Who would be upset? Not your mother, and your fathers already gone. Why don't you join him? Im sure Sir would love that, I'm sure your little boyfriend would love if you weren't here anymore.