My Heart Hurts. Let's Make It Hurt More.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:18pm
Thread Topic: My Heart Hurts. Let's Make It Hurt More.
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"Keem! Keemmy!" The white-haired boy's mother screeched, an accent in her voice that was rather irritating. She was a scrawny woman with wispy hair. Back in England she was a nun in her younger years. Then Kim came along and she moved to America, where she joined church choirs.
"Coming, mum!" He called softly, rushing downstairs with his bag and choir binder that contained solos he'd been practicing.
"What's that, Keem?"
"My binder. From choir."
"A singer like meself. Good boy, makes me proud." That's the only thing they she was actually pleased with about the teen... -
Dalton wasted no time in shutting the door behind him. His father's hatred was most prominent, hanging above them like lead weights. Just a few months ago, the teenager had decided to come out of the closet, thinking that it would be better than keeping everything a secret. He'd known of his father's raging prejudice against homosexuals, but Dalton was fueled by the offchance that he might be able to change that. After all, he was his son. After that night when he came out, his father had been distant and cruel as ever.
His mother had died from cancer when Dalton was just a young boy. He had nearly no recollection of her, but somehow from what little he could remember, he knew she would have been accepting of the fact that he was gay. His father had insisted that it was hormonal imbalances, that the boy would grow out of it in due time. Hell, the crazed man had even sent him to a correction facility!
Currently, Dalton was occupied trying to find an alternative route to school with which he could avoid running in to the boys who had jumped him previously. School had been brutal, what with the majority of the students being Catholic.
"Go to Hell, faggot," were the only words he'd hear as he walked past them in the halls. Everyone was part of it, excluding a few including Kim and Rachael, the only Jewish girl in town. -
"I am working late ageen." Such a weird accent... "You do yo homework when you git home, okee, Keem?"
"Yes, mum." He muttered and climbed out of the car to the Hell he now faced daily.
At least hehadd Dalton and Rachel. Sometimes he'd accidentally call her Rachelle, it was a more common name in Europe than Rachel. And sometimes Dalton would get 'doll tan'. They didn't mind, they understood coming to a new place is hard. -
Sighing, Dalton set out on the sidewalk. It had rained the night before. The woods wouldn't be a great bet; he'd be soaked from the water on the ground and in the trees.
He took a deep breath, the clean, cold air giving him a sense of peace. His footsteps echoed lightly off of the houses across the street. -
Kim watched out the window, searching for Dalton. He knew his friend walked and sometimes it would take him some time to get to the building so he waited.
His mother didn't like it when he walked, especially since he let out his secret. It was Dalton that encouraged him to let it out and he didn't want the other to be alone. His mother never let him go to the boy's house again, not until she would be able to talk to his guardian about 'conditions' when they're together. They were just...friends. Just friends...
He sighed and pulled out a book to read while the time slowly passed. Maybe Rachel would show up soon to give him some form of company. -
Dalton walked at a quick pace, knowing that Kim would be waiting for him. Not looking where he was going, he tripped. The boy caught himself before he hit the ground with his hands, the pavement leaving a few nasty scrapes.
Dalton stood up and kept walking, ignoring the tiny pricks of pain on his palms. He approached the building, straightening his glasses from their previously crooked position. -
He pricked up and rushed to the school's front doors to meet the other. He almost slipped on the freshly cleaned tile floors, but steadied himself and ran outside. "Dalton!" He called, the name sounding as it had been described.
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Dalton chuckled, hearing his name. He closed the distance between the two of them. "Hello there," he said, beaming. The way Kim would pronounce his name was at the utmost level of cuteness, at least in Dalton's mind.
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"Miss-ed you. You seen Rachell-Uh Rachel-yet?" The younger asked curiously, searching their surroundings and shivered at the cool air. "Brr, let's get inside actually..."
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"I missed you too." He shook his head at Kim's question. "I haven't seen Rachel yet, but she'll be coming soon." They started to walk inside, a blast of warm air hitting Dalton's face as he opened the heavy door. He glanced around the halls. Various boys and girls were congregating, laughing and talking at an obnoxiously loud volume. People snickered as they walked by. Dalton had trained himself to ignore it, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow, however slight it was.
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Kim tried to always turn things around on people who made fun of them. When he looked at his dear friend, he could sense the sorrow and lightly nudged him. "Don't listen to them. They're the one's who are in the wrong. They're the seenners."
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Dalton looked over at Kim, offering him a sad smile. "You're right. I shouldn't let these things get to me." He reached his locker and opened it, gathering his books for first period.
"What class do you have first?" he asked the other. "I have language arts." -
"Math. Geometry. I put my things in my seat already." He waited for the other, biting his lip.
Just friends. But he wanted to be more than that and wanted Dalton to be the one to ask because he too shy to. But if it meant waiting for years, he would gladly wait for the other to ask first. -
"Oh." The light in Dalton's eyes faded a bit. It was hard being without his dear friend. He sighed, shutting his locker with a soft clang.
"I wish you were in more of my classes..." He wished to be with Kim all of the time, period. -
"We have second hour. Social Studies." He smiled. "And I'm sure your class is on the same floor as mine. And we have the same lunch..." He gave the other a suggestive look.
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