Samuel, David, and a few other boys were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the old church. There were six in all. They were gathered around a large man with a straw hat on, eyes glinting coldly with malice.
"Hello, boys. My name is James Reynolds and my job is to lead you back to God. Your job is to follow me as I work. You can be fixed, do not worry."
Samuel cringed and rolled his eyes. This man was all business. He spoke as if he believed that you actually can pray the gay away. As if it actually works.
"Okay," Mr. Reynolds began. "Let's all start by introducing ourselves. I've already gone, so let's start with… you!" he pointed at a kid with whitish-blonde hair.
"M-me?" the boy stammered.
"Yes, you." Mr. Reynolds responded with clipped tones.
"Uh," the boy said, "My name is George Frederick and… yeah."
"What are your goals by the end of your... treatment?" Mr. Reynolds asked.
"Um… to still be gay," George said.
Mr. Reynolds rolled his eyes. "R-i-i-ight. You missed the whole fucking point of this camp. Moving on, go in a clockwise circle."
The next kid blinked with sleepy eyes. "Uh," he said softly, "my name is Aaron Burr and my goal is to get out of here in one piece."
"Hello fellow gays, my name is George Eaker and my goal is the same as George Frederick's. I ain't here to become straight. I'm hella gay and I'll stay hella gay. I only came here cause my old man says I gotta or he'll kick me out, and I got nowhere to go."
It was David's turn. "My name is David Seabury," he said nervously, "and my goal is to graduate and return home accepted by my family."
George Frederick stood up, His blonde hair catching the sunlight attractively. "You're really gonna go along with this crap?"
"HOLD uP!" James Reynolds shouted, his face a deep purple. "You boys have been disrespectful enough! This is the last straw. You, George Whatever, go stand in the corner!"
"This room is fucking round, dipshit! There are no fucking corners!" George Frederick shouted.
Samuel felt his stomach flip. This George Frederick was playing a dangerous game. But he was brave, Samuel had to admit to himself. He maybe was even a little…
'StOP, Samuel!' Samuel thought to himself.
Now Mr. Reynolds was really pissed. He strode over and grabbed George by the forearm and threw him into the wall. He forced George onto his knees and loosened his belt. Samuel watched in horror as Mr. Reynolds whipped George over and over, his screams lost in the sound of thwacking. After the tenth last, he let George slump over in a pool of his own blood, sobbing.
Mr. Reynolds turned around with a glint in his eye. "Anyone else?"
None of the boys said a word. The only sound was of George's soft sobbing. Samuel felt so bad for him. He wanted to crawl over to George and hug him, anything to stop his pain.
Mr. Reynolds smiled. "Good. I believe we have not finished our activity." Then he pointed to Samuel. "Your turn," he said, "and be careful."
"Umm," Samuel squeaked, "My name is Samuel Seabury. My goal… my g-goal… is to, uh, f-follow Jesus once m-more…"
He cringed under Mr. Reynolds's gaze. Luckily, their director seemed satisfied with Samuel's answer. He turned back to the boys.
"Okay, now-"
"WASSUP, FUCKERS?"
Samuel watched in utter astonishment as Charles Lee strode into the old building. "Is this the 'Pray the Gay Away' camp shit they were talking 'bout in the bar?"
"Yes," George Eaker smirked. "Welcome to our shitty little camp. Mi casa es tu casa."
"Kewl beans," Charles said. Then he caught sight of Samuel. "HEY SAMMY BOI, WASSUP?"
"Um," Samuel said, blushing.
Mr. Reynolds was standing to the side, his hands over his face. "I've had enough," he growled. "I'm locking you all in this goddamn church!"
"What?" Everyone yelled at once.
Mr. Reynolds sprinted towards the door and pulled it shut, locking it from the outside. George Eaker ran up and kicked the door as hard as he could. "THE FUCK, MAN?"
"And I'll be doing this every night until you fags learn respect for your elders and superiors! Good night!"
"nOOOOOOOO!" David screeched.
"Shut up!" Samuel hissed, punching his brother on the arm. "You'll make everything worse, dipshit!"
"nO cussing, Samuel!" David whimpered.
Samuel rolled his eyes. "My god, you're so babyish. Man up, brother!"
Charles pushed the two brothers away from each other. "Stop fighting, losers!"
"I'm no loser!" Samuel sniffed, crossing his arms.
Charles grinned. "Tough luck, buddy. Turns out you are one."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"AM NOT!"
"ARE TOO!"
"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!" George Eaker cried, grabbing Samuel's arm and pulling him away from a smirking Charles. "Samuel, fighting with everyone isn't going to solve anything!"
Samuel glared at all the boys and then turned his back to them, marching over to George Frederick, who was crying softly. Aaron was hovering near him, unsure of what to do.
"Aaron, do you know if we can find bandages anywhere here?" Samuel asked softly.
"N-no," Aaron whispered. "But we can use my spare jacket. I brought two."
"Why did you being two jackets?" Samuel said, taking Aaron's spare.
"Thought it might be cold. Anyway, it's useful now."
"True," Samuel said. He turned to George.
George's shirt was ripped open, blood trickling from deep scratches, bruises blooming on his pale back.
Samuel leaned down. "George," he said, "my name is Samuel Seabury and I am going to bandage your wounds the best I can. I am used one of Aaron's jackets because that's the best we have. I'm going to use a little water from my water bottle to wash the blood away. Is that okay?"
George didn't say anything; he only nodded.
Samuel sighed. "Okay."
He got to work.
A/N: Hello school's a bitch so here I am. Like I said before, I literally have no plot and now I'm taking suggestions! (For plot and OC's to join the pray the gay away camp. I'm adding up to three OCs. Just suggest things and I'll see if I can work it in! Have fun you guys! :P