I cautiously walked over to the guy. As I got closer, I noted that he smelled like cheap beer and. . . I don't realy know, but it sort of smelled like burning leafs.

He opened up the grey overcoat he was wearing, and I gasped. . . I-Is this guy realy tryin'na sell me weed?

"I-I. . . I-"

"C'mon kid, I don' have all day!"

I looked around having no idea what to do. . . Did he say it would make me feel good?

"Hey," I start, "You said it would make me feel good. . . Uh. . . W-What else could it do?"

"Well," He said with a chuckle, "This stuff'll get ya' fucked up. You go to a party, this stuff'll get ya' laid. You get in a arguement wit yer girl? This'll make ya' ferget-"

That's all I needed to hear.

"How much?" I ask before he could continue.

"Well, yer a preppy little spit-fuck aren't ya? It's fifteen bucks fer each pound."

I bite my bottum lip, "Okay, so I don't have any money right now, but how 'bout I give you my bag'a snacks?"

He glares at me, but I keep a straight face. "Alright," He growls, "But next time, ya' betta pay me double! Yer just lucky I'm feelin generous t'day."

With shakey hands, I take the bag he offered in his hand.

"So," I start, "How do I use this, exactly?"

He rolls his eye, "Jeez runt, are ya' realy this fuckin' stupid? Take the pot, put it in paper, roll the paper up tight, smoke it. Or ya' can just eat it. Now get outta here 'fore the fuzz drives by!"

Stuffing the bag into one of my inner coat pockets, I suspiciously walk out of the alley.

Finally arriving home, I rush directly into my room and slammed the door closed. My breathing was fast and heavy, I honestly don't know why I was so paranoid though, it wasn't like I was being followed. . . Right?

Shaking that thought from my head, I hastily pull out a peice of paper from my desk drawer and start working on wrapping up a joint. I fumbled my lighter out of my pocket and hurridly lit it. I took my first puff a little too hard and started coughing. I hit my chest trying to clear my throte. Taking a deep breath, I try for another puff. I'm starting to feel the effects starting to sink in. One more puff, and I'm out of it.

When I finally came through, it was dark out. I must've passed out. I hear heavy feet pounding around downstairs, but because of my headach, it sounded like a bunch of boulders crashin down.

I sigh and try to pull myself up off the floor. The first few time, I fell before I could even get halfway up, but I eventually was able to get up.

As I got closer to my door, I could hear more footsteps stomp around. Everybody must be home now, I thought.

I dragged myself downstair, aching all over. I should find a better place to pass out at next time, I thought. I nearly slipped down the stairs, shit, I'm still fuckin dizzy.

When I finally get down the stairs, the first person I see is my mother. Then it's Curly, then Angela. . . and I guess we have a guest. Curly was smiling as he talked to the guy whose back was facing me. The guy had short curly, ginger-ish or blonde-ish hair, I couldn't tell which, and he was built sort of like my brother, but taller.

Who is this guy? It was then that Curly's eyes drifted over to me. His smile wavered a bit, but he managed to keep it unnoticed by everybody else. He rolled eyes, then hed his hand out in my direction.

"Well," He said with a hint of annoyance in his voice, "Here he is! Mr. Timothy Shephard."

Everyone turned to look at me, except for that guy. I noticed that Mom gave a me distressed look, but I wasn't sure why. Finally, that guy standing by Curly slowly turned around.

My blood ran cold.

My breathing stopped.

Everything around us froze.

The only things left behind was black space, myself. . . and. . . HIM!

"Hello. . . Son." He smirked sadisticly.

I couldn't respond, I was in complete shock. I stood straight up, ignoring the hit of dizziness I received. I stared at him, and he stared at me.

I took a step back, getting ready to make a break for my room. I was just about to turn around and bolt when Dad grabbed me by my arm and pulled me into the living with everbody else. He sat me down on the couch beside him and wrapped his arm around to be sure I wasn't going anywhere. He smiled with fake warmness and pulled my head onto his chest. I noticed that Curly was glaring at me out of the corner of his eye.

"So Tim," Dad starts, "What have you been doing since I was gone?"

I gulp, "N-Nothing much."

"Oh realy? 'Cause I heard yer the leader of your very own gang, I'm so proud." He turns to Curly, "Hey Curl, why don't you have yer own gang?" Curly crossed his arms and mumbles something.

Oh, I see what he's trying to do: He's tryin to turn Curly against me. Well too late buddy, that happened on its own.

The night went on sort of like that. Dad would make comments that would suggests he prefers me over Curly, Curly'd get angry, and, when everyone else wasn't looking, dad would glide his hand up and down my thigh.

At one point in the night, I excused myself so that I could go up to my room.

When I reached the top of the staircase, instead of going directly to my room, I bolted to the bathroom and emptied my stomach into the toilet. I'm just glad I was actually able to make to the bathroom.

When I got to my room, I immediately passed out on my bed.

Hours later, it had to be like, two in the morning when I'm woken up by the sound of my door being creaked open, then close. Whoever had came in didn't make any noise, I'm not even sure if they'd moved, so I just pretended I was still asleep. Soon, though, I felt the weight shift on my bed. Then whovere that was climbed on top of me. . . Oh no, I now who it is now. He was already stiff. . .

He grinded up against my backside, slow and hard. I didn't dare move or say anything. I had to cover my mouth to keep from yelping out loud when I felt his hand travel between my legs. Hold back a moan, I tried to resist the urge to buck up against him when he started rubbing me vicously. He growled sadistically when he saw that I was fighting the pleasure he was giving me.

I couldn't hold it anymore and let out a loud moan when he grabs me from inside my boxers. I bite down on my pillow as he moved his hand up and down my member.

"P-Please, stop!" I say into the pillow.

"Don't fuckin' wine." He growls, moving faster.

I start panting and sweating. This isn't good. This isn't good. I can't just let him do this to me, not when I'm fucking eighteen years old! . . . But I still didn't try to move. . . He still scares me too much.

"Ple-e-ease! Sto-Stop! P-Please!" This time, he ignors me.

I began shaking in both fear and extacy, tightening my arms around my pillow.

With one more loud moan, I arched my back as I shamefully came.

I continued to burry my face into my pillow as my dad laugh sadistically.

"Well," He said, "That didn't last long. I'm guessin' you didn' have yer first time yet, have ya'?"

I didn't wanna answer him. Of course, it wasn't first time in bed, but it was the first time I actually came.

"Answer me dammit!" The bitterness in his voice makes me flinch, so I just nod in response. He chuckled, "Heh, just what I thought. Yer so damn scarred of what we did the yer scared ta fuck someone. What a lil bitch."

When he finally left the room, closing the door behind him, I finally let my tears fall from my eyes.

What now, did your Daddy hurt you again.

"Shut up."

Oh, wait, that actually felt good for you, didn't it?

"Leave me alone."

You know what that little experience with your father when you were a kid turned you into?

"I-I have no Idea what you'r talking about."

Yes, you do. You know what you are. You know the names society places on men that like the feel of other men. Men like you.

"J-Just. . . Stop!"

Fag. Queer. Homo. Flitty.

"Don't call me names."

You know that's what you are, and everyone will hate you when they find out.

"Shut up! He made me do it! You don't know anything!"

I didn't realize I'd been yelling until Curly came in and punched the back of my head.

"Shut the fuck up!" He yells, "Not all of us r' pansies like you so we don't need to be kept up by yer girly screaming!"

It was at that moment that dad walked in.

"Now Curls," He started, "Yer brother's obviously got some problems and you have to learn to respect them, or he'll never get over them." He seemed to have stressed that last part out..

Curly scoffed and glared at me. "Fine."He grumbles, and walkes out.

Dad continued to stand in the doorway, staring at me. ". . . Remember," Starts with a smile, "Twice a day, that's the rules of the game!" He shuts my door and leaves.

I laid there, frozen.

Oh, he wants to play with you again. But seeing as to how you'r a big fat flitty now, it won't be so bad for you.

I didn't bother responding to the voice. . . I'm too frightened.