My feet pounded the sidewalk, eyes glazed over like a gazelle running from a lion. The only thing that kept me moving at such a breakneck pace was fear and instinct.

I stopped running. He was there, maybe three feet in front of me. I felt my legs wobble, the fatigue kicking in.

He stood still, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, his deep charcoal eyes full of question and worry. He made me want to crawl out of my skin and hide under a rock. I didn't know whether to embrace him or run back to the hell I had just fled from. I however did nether. I let my legs buckle under me like rotting damp plywood. The last thing my gaze caught was his shocked face. My eyes fluttered closed as he franticly threw himself towards me to halt my fall. With my vision blurred and my mouth to drunk on fear to even mutter I heard him whisper "Just a scrape, right amigo?"


My arms ached as the scrapes scabbed closed. I struggled to stand while holding his added weight. He barely passed the one hundred and ten mark, but it was still a lot of weight to support. I stood up shaking. I looked down upon his face. I cradled him in my arms gazing down at his angelic face. His dark brown hair caught the twilight's fading light. It framed his face, hanging over his black rimmed eyes and scraped cheeks. His face was slightly flushed and his mouth hung open almost as if it was begging to be saved. I brushed the hair off of his features only to uncover a large gash on his forehead. I rested the back of my hand on his cheek he was hot with a fever. I was burned up at the thought of how he had gotten these marks. It made me want to devote my life to ending the people who did this to him.

My heart ached as I slowly walked back to my empty home. I struggled to twist the key in the lock. As soon as I was in I kicked open the door to my room and placed his body on my mattress. He was breathing shallowly and the flush on his cheeks was subsiding. I sighed and sat next to my bed resting my chin on the edge so I could gaze at him. My mind slowly lulled to sleep.


I woke up to sound of a door closing. I bolted awake and sat upright thoroughly regretting this decision. My head pounded and I looked around. I was in a room painted black and decorated with posters. My mind finally caught up with me and I realized where I was. "Pepito" I muttered, thankful to my long time friend. I rested my head on a worn out, almost flat pillow. My eyes drifted closed but I remained awake. It may have been a few minutes or a few hours before he returned. He walked in wearing a pair or ripped up tight jeans with a checked belt. His lean torso was exposed and damp from a shower. He was drying his hair with a pale blue towel.

"Come on amigo, its okay" he muttered stroking my hair. He must have thought I was still sleeping as he sat on the edge of the bed humming some unknown tune. I rolled over to face him and I opened my eyes. He jumped in surprise at my movement.


I jumped a little at his movement. Thought he had still been unconscious. I cracked a smile and ruffled his hair laughing. "Trying to kill me?" I questioned. He just smiled as a response. I pushed him over and lay down next to him. We must have sat there for a good hour just staring at the ceiling enjoying each others company. I sat up…

He sat up, sighed, and rested on his elbows. Concern wrinkled on his brow and I could tell what he was about to ask.

I was almost afraid to ask knowing no matter what the answer to my question would be bad, but I opened my mouth anyway. "Why where you running, Todd?" I questioned my words dripping with concern. But nothing could have prepared me from the answer.

I had suspected it was just more beatings. But in the back of my mind I felt it was something worse. I wasn't sure of this hunch but his wordless reply made me stop thinking.


My mind was buzzing on an adrenaline overdose. His question left my longing for a short pleasant death, maybe stomach acid would be more pleasant then my answer. Yes I decided, being digested would be such a nice change.

Thoughts of death floated out of my mind and I met his eyes. His face was stern but I could see the worry wearing away at his composer. I'm not sure why I did what I did but it couldn't possibly get worse. Right?

He gazed up at my eyes and his expression was soft. Not the kind of soft that made you feel relaxed and reassured. He looked old, worn, and ready to give in.

I was lost in his eyes however corny it seems when he slowly scooted closer to me and wrapped his thin wiry arms around my torso. I will never be sure of whom he was trying to comfort with his touch. All these things flooded from my mind and I melted at the contact. I brushed the hair out of his face laced my fingers together behind his back. His bruised body and spirit made me want to well up with tears. I longed to know how he kept himself from breaking down and weeping after all he has been through in his sixteen years.

I found myself drifting off into the abyss of sleep with my arms around him and my head of his lean shoulder. It was so hard not to break down and cry but I promised myself long ago that such trivial things solved nothing. This resolution however was not kept and I found myself tearing up on his shoulder. I don't know how long he sat there with me before I finally dozed off into a restless slumber. All I know is I woke up alone to the smell of pancakes.


There we sat his head on my shoulder and his hands clasped behind my back. I gave into the touch and ran my fingers through his hair. I had quietly longed for a moment like this for years. I never thought such a tender moment would come from something so dark. I drank in his sent and let my eyes flutter closed…

I awoke with a stiff neck and Todd's slender arms weakly wrapped around me. Last night played through my mind and I did my best to get up without disturbing his trembling figure. I gazed down at his small form laying there on my bed and felt something inside me go soft. I draped a blanket over him. I made my way to the kitchen whilst lecturing myself over the growing feelings for the broken soul that was the one person I could confide with.

For the past 4 years I had feared telling him how I felt. I, the mother fucking antichrist was petrified that I would be rejected by Todd Casil average tenth grader. I was lost in thought and mindlessly spilling pancake batter as I mixed in the ingredients angrily. Out of the corner of my eye I spied him scuttle into the kitchen.

"Pancakes?" I lazily question pouring the last of my hastily prepared batter onto a griddle. He nodded and I skillfully flipped 4 steaming cakes onto his plate and offered syrup and butter. The last cakes where done, slightly burnt but none the less decent. I sat down across from him with a plate of several dozen pancakes between us. I found myself locked in a staring competition with a pancake when he broke the silence.

"I'm sorry" I muttered behind a shy smile. I found myself embarrassed about how clingy I had been. This was particularly unnerving because even I had to admit, he was an attractive antichrist. My insides squished around like starved piranhas in a bucket. I was almost ashamed. It made me feel silly and I cracked another smile.

I was stunned at the apology. It took me a brief moment to figure out what it was about. My mind flicked back to 7th grade.

We where lounging in a makeshift tent in my room. I must have gone through at least 7 cans of cola that night. I don't remember how we got on the subject but he quietly asked me something…

"Pepito?" he muttered almost too quite to be heard "can I ask you something?" I nodded yes downing another soda and washing it down with a handful of vinegar chips. He looked shyly down and continued, "What would you do if I was gay?" I was caught of guard. I, at the time, didn't know whether to be surprised, offended, or confused. I found myself to be all of the above.

"Nothing" I calmly decided this was the right answer, "when did ya figure it out, amigo?" I slurped more cola.

At least I figured out why he was jumpy about it. To bad he had a completely wrong opinion.


Pepito had known for some time about my sexuality, but this didn't keep me from blushing at the close contact of last night. I decided to change the subject to something a little grimmer.

"About last night" he rested his elbows on the table and looked me in the eye. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you why I was running." He was fully perplexed and gazed into my eyes with concern. A long pause followed as I worked up courage to continue with my grim tale.

"My mom was baked and yelling at me in what I believe was some sort of French and Italian hybrid. The only real words I understood where some cuss words and Hell." I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes. "Dad was completely smashed, nothing completely new. I took the beatings silently for a time; I let a few whimpers escape only to be punished for the noise and my existence." I felt a tear run down my cheek and Pepito wiped it away, then giving me time to continue. "I was okay for a bit, but it got worse than ever before. Before it had just been beatings with a belt or the occasional smack or kick, but this got out of hand. I don't know what possessed me but I felt a cold blade slice through my shirt and rip through my back. It made me so angry, angry at myself for taking the abuse all these years."

I broke down and dropped my head in my hands full out sobbing. I felt his hand on my shoulder and his voice whispering reassurance in my ear. "I don't know how I managed to do it but I got the knife… And I… I… I killed them" My voice sank to a whisper. My voice grew faster as I continued "I fucking killed them Pepito, The people who had caused me pain through my entire existence, there gone. I have nowhere to go, no home to return to. I can never go back. If I go to that house again I'll break down. I'm out of my fucking hell." I broke down crying over a plate of cold pancakes and he held me.