The next day, Chad woke up, cold, laying in the middle of the alley. He soon realized his vision came back to life. He could see clearly, but he couldn't say the same about his body.
He struggled to get up, and he did. He soon began to bend down to put his jeans back on, which resulted in him almost falling. But, he got them on, and tried to walk. But began to stumble in the process.
He continued walking until he reached the exterior of the alley. He could see the cars, the houses, and better yet, the sun. He had a confused look on his face, not knowing what happened. Then, he remember why he had to pick up his pants and boxers. Coach Bolton.
He began to ball his fist until it tightened to the max. He knew what kind of man he was now. The cruel kind that'd rape you and leave you in a dark alley where the rats would have you to themselves. The thought of the moment made him curl, except, he couldn't have a single visualization of the moment. Nor did he want to.
He began stumbling down the street and caught a nearby bus. Everyone on the bus gave him a confused look, wondering what happened to him. Many thought he was homeless. Others thought he was just another unwealthy teen. Everyone thought individual and wrong things but him. He knew what happened. Serendipitously, he caught the right bus. The bus that rode past Rion Avenue. The street where Troy's house was.
He rode the bus until it was time to get off. He was tired. Tired of holding back everything he'd been willing to tell him.
He walked up to Troy's house, thinking of the arrangement of words he'd tell him. He knocked on the beige door, shortly before Mrs. Bolton answered.
"Chad!" she said joyfully, "What happened to you?"
Chad looked down, "Is your husband home?"
Mrs. Bolton shook her head, "No."
"Well can I come in?"
"Why sure!" she welcomed, "Come on in."
Chad stepped inside of the elaborate house before Mrs. Bolton closed the door behind him.
"Well, uh Troy's in the back, let me go get him."
Chad stopped Mrs. Bolton dead in her tracks, "Actually Mrs. Bolton, I wanted to talk to you."
She looked shocked, "Oh, okay, sit down, let me get you some tea I just heated!"
"Okay." he said nervously. He couldn't figure out how he was going to tell Mrs. Bolton. Or Troy for the matter. It was all way too much.
Mrs. Bolton came back into the room with two red cups in her hand, with tea capacitated in both of them. "Here you go sweetie!" she said. "So, what is it you wanted to tell me?"
Chad looked down again, he didn't know how he was going to tell her. "Have you ever felt like something was so horrible and you wanted to tell someone so badly but you just felt like you couldn't?"
Mrs. Bolton nodded slowly, concerned, "Yes, what's the matter?"
"Well, I'm one of those people, but it's so hard to explain!" he looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.
Mrs. Bolton positioned his face between her hands, "Oh sweetie, what's wrong?"
Chad wiped his eyes, tempting Mrs. Bolton to remove her hands. He took a deep breath and brought himself to tell Mrs. Bolton what happened, in both events.
Her jaw dropped to every word Chad said. Every piece of information was just unbelievable. She couldn't withstand any of it and got up, holding her face in her hands.
"Well did you go to the police with-" she was cut off by the sound of the front door opening.
It was Coach Bolton.
"HEY!" he yelled, "What the hell is this nigger doing in my house? I told Troy not-" He was cut off.
"I invited him in!" he yelled.
"Well I don't want him in he-" he was cut off again. But not by Mrs. Danforth, or Chad, by Troy.
Everyone looked shocked and had looks of disbelief on their faces. Troy was easing his way down the stairs, with a shiny object in his hand. A nine millimeter bullet shaped gun.
"Troooy," his mother said in a long tone. "Put the gun down baby!"
"NO MOM!" he said, tears streaming down his face. "I HEARD EVERYTHING!"
"You heard you're mother!" Coach Bolton yelled. "PUT IT DOWN!"
"FUCK YOU!" he yelled, still crying, "YOU RAPED MY BOYFRIEND!"
His father had a puzzled look on his face, "Boyfriend?" he questioned him, "You're a fagot too? My own son?"
"APPARENTLY YOU ARE TOO, YOU'RE RAPING A TEENAGE BOY!"
"Look Troy," he yelled, "Put the goddamn gun down!"
"NO!" he screamed.
"I swear!" he yelled, "I should've made your mother get an abortion!"
"FUCK YOU!" was the only thing they heard before he fired the gun.
"AHHHHH!" his mother screamed. He buried his face inside his palms, crying like never before. Chad stood, shocked in the corner. Until he began to run for the door, escaping the house, leaving the mourning family behind.
