Chester rode his bike home, sweat trickling down his forehead. I have to get home. Now. He thought as he grunted and pushed the pedals harder. It couldn't be true; they wouldn't do this to him. He wiped tears off his dusty face and pedaled yet harder, his stomach lurched, he hadn't eaten all day, and riding on an empty stomach in the hot Arizona sun after school was the last thing he wanted to do. He careened around a corner and rode straight into his dads parking lot. Leaping off his bike, he dropped everything and bee lined for the kitchen. There were empty beer bottles scattered everywhere, dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and there was that smell of mildew. Chester's gaze immediately went to his mother, sitting at the table, drinking a beer, while his father was yet to be seen. She looked up at him and slurred something, then took another drink.
"Mom…. where's dad?" Chester's voice cracked and he went for a glass of water. Of course, his mother just laughed, she was never sober enough to talk to him. Or do anything. He chugged some water and set the cup down. He heard the rumor that it had happened. That he had been reported. God, if it was true, he was done. He swallowed. There was no use in searching for him, it would only earn him a good beating. As always, he started cleaning, while his mother sat and drank what little life she had away.

It remained quiet for a while, the only sound was Chester washing dishes and scrubbing counters. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Chester felt himself being yanked to the ground, and held there. It was his dad, and he was pissed. He remained calm, knowing what was going to happen, but accepting it. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the blows, but instead he was yanked to his feet and a piece of paper shoved at him. Oh god. They did. They ordered my fate. He looked at the paper and immediately his eyes welled with tears.

"Dad…." he shook his head, looking down at the paper.

"Shut up, you fucking deserve it" came his father's reply as he looked for some whiskey.

"I…. I'm sorry! I'll…. I'll do anything!" his voice breaks and he sets the paper on the counter. "Please…I.. I don't wanna be unwound! I'll go to Derek's…a…and I won't say anything about it! I swear!"
"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP, Faggot! We already ordered it, it's done. You're leaving in a week. You're a good for nothing piece of shit. At least you'll be of some use dead." His dad just grabbed a shot glass and the liquor and goes to his room, slamming the door shut behind him, his wife following. Chester sunk to his knees. How could they do this to him?

He didn't stay home. He couldn't. He had to tell the one person who had ever loved him. Jumping up, Chester ran and rode his little bike to the nice suburban home, in the more privileged neighborhood. He leapt off the bike and went to the door. Before knocking, he made sure it wasn't too late. After checking, he braced himself, and knocked. The door creaked open and Mrs Shinoda peered outside to see scrawny, dirty Chester looking at her through his tear soaked face. Normally, she hated the Bennington boy, and didn't want him near her Michael, but something told her this was important, and recently, she had been allowing him inside to clean up. He never told them what was happening. Only Mike knew.

"Oh, Charles, come in." She always used his middle name, and he hated it, but never complained. The sound of someone playing piano stopped abruptly and Mike peeked into the entry way. His brown eyes widened at the sight of Chester and he ran to him and hugged him.
"Ches? You okay?" It was apparent he was worried, was it that obvious something was this bad? Mike dragged Chester to his room and got a wash cloth to clean Chester's face. "do you need a shower and clothes? Did Derek hurt you bad again?" Chester looked down and let the tears fall, his sobs wracking his small body.

"N….no mike…T…. they did it…t.. they sent the order" His words were barely understandable, but Mike heard them and dropped everything he was holding, then hugged Chester.

"No…they couldn't have…. Chester…." His voice started breaking and he buried his face into Chester's shirt. "I can't lose you Ches!" He started to bawl, refusing to let go of Chester and rocking back and forth. That night was sleepless, filled with crying and talking quietly. Mr. and Mrs. Shinoda left the two alone. They knew something was not right, and didn't ruin this last reunion.

Chester knew why. He wasn't perfect. Far from it. He was a failure. He went to school got bullied, and failed, went home, worked until his parents took him to Derek's. At Derek's he was abused. Badly. Everything from sexual molestation to just being worked into exhaustion. Then he was returned to his parents who neglected and abused him. Until he met Michael Kenji Shinoda, his only friends were the drugs he bought and did in the bathroom before going to school every day. He was still addicted, but Mike was helping him. Making it better. He was a very hurt, and broken 15-year-old, but never did he want to be killed.

His head hurt from the crying. There was nothing to be done, he had to accept his fate. The clock to his doom was already ticking, and he had a few days before he was to be hauled off. He snuck home, and changed his clothes for school that day, of course, earning him a good beating for not being home time the previous night.

At school, Mike stayed at his side, the two were sobbing most of the day, then followed by a few of Mike's friends, Bradford, Joe, Rob and the spicy ginger Dave. They all sympathized. They weren't Chester's friends, but Mike's. Naturally, seeing Mike in turmoil made them feel bad and they tried to make things better. The day wore on and Chester finished the day, absolutely destroyed still. There was no hope for happiness. Ever. He moped home, dragging his bike with him, and Mike following. He had never been to Chester's house. He knew it was bad, but what he didn't know was how bad it really was. Kindly, he helped Chester put his bike away and go inside. Immediately his lip curled in disgust.

"Oh god...Che- "
"Shhh." Chester cut him off before he could speak. He already begged Mike to not come in, he didn't want him to see this, but Mike refused to listen and went in anyway. Upon entering the living room, someone was sitting on the couch. It wasn't just anyone. He turned his head and Chester's stomach dropped. It was Derek.

"U…uhhh D…Derek…." He could feel his knees already weakening. Derek's face twisted into a cruel smile, making Mike back off.

"Hey babe," he ran a large hand through Chester's curly hair, sending a flood of shivers through his body. Immediately, Chester stared at the ground and swallowed. "h…. hey…." his voice shuddered, making Derek look at him, displeased. Mike could tell how terrified Chester was and stayed quiet.

"Where've you been? I missed you honey," Derek's large hand enveloped Chester's jaw and he brought him close to him, forcing a small kiss. His breath reeking of vodka made Chester whimper a little, but too quiet for him to hear.

"S.. sorry…st…studying…."

"Mmmmm. I heard about you being unwound. I'm really sorry. I came to…comfort you." There was no doubt in Mike's mind that's the opposite of his actual intentions.

"I…I wanted to be with fr…friends…" Chester tried desperately to get out of his handhold but he was too strong.

"No baby, not tonight, I came all the way here to see you. And that's what we're gonna do." He stood and started sauntering off to Chester's little room. Young Chester was still frozen, staring at his feet and shaking. Suddenly it all became very real to Mike and he understood Chester's abuse.

"Ches…..." he said, quietly. Chester hugs him, tight, and follows Derek, leaving Mike to decide what to do. Worried, Mike stayed, hiding under the table in the kitchen. Waiting for Chester.