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Tags: Pain, Torture, Love

His pain...

Submitted:Mar 15, 2011    Reads: 86    Comments: 17    Likes: 7   


He sat hunched in the rain, his sculpted muscles flexing as he clenched his fingers through his unkempt chocolate brown hair. His hand brushed against his face, wet with liquid other than the rain.
His topaz shaded skin, criss-crossed with red and blue.
Harassed by the harshness of his mother and physical whipping endured of his father.
I watched him from my window, my chest constricting at the pain for the stranger outside. My first sight of the tortured soul he posessed.

The clock buzzed, it was midnight. I rolled off my bed, pulling back the curtains to find him lying across the roof, his eyes shut. As far away as I was, the effusive flow of tears, running across his face, was apparent.
Then the man, climbing up, a leather whip in his hand. He dragged the boy off the roof, hitting his shin so that he fell off, to the ground.
I stood, stupified, placing my hand on the window weakly. I could do nothing. My knees folded underneath me.

'You're useless!...A mistake!...No good...pathetic...weak....stupid...' the broken yelling pounded my ears as I stood shakily outside his yard.
'Stop it, stop it,' I chanted to no avail, tears splattering down my cheeks. I couldn't handle it. My sturdy persona was crumbling . 'Leave him alone,' I screamed silently, walking away, helpless.

He stood in the burning scissors of sunlight, holding a gushing hose over his arm, which dripped with crimson. Agony teased his expression. The vein in his temple throbbed and pulsed so powerfully, it rippled his entire facade.

My sleep broke at three in the morning. The curtains slapped the wall, damp. The window had smashed into tiny facades. The lightening streaked and shook the ground with angry fists. Rain spat furiously against the corrugated roof. I drew aside the curtains... there he was, lying on his doorstep, the door locked on him.
My heart felt like it was being sliced open.
I could take it any more.
I grabbed my blanket, shoved open the door, and sprinted. I tripped, gashed myself, slammed into the gate, but scrambled up and flung myself into his yard. I slid on my knees, tearing my skin, and fell ontop of him, my heart shrieking, my eyes burning angrily.
It was like a bomb detonating, the impact. My fingers feeling his jagged, abused skin; my lips pressing into his hair; my hands shaking as I wrapped my blanket around him.
The stranger jolted, stunned. His red rimmed eyes filled with surprise, with confusion.
Someone out of nowhere.
He didn't know me. I didn't know him. I didn't even know his name. But I knew him.
'I'm here," I shouted, my voice drowning in the rain. I shook his shoulders. 'I'm here for you!'
His breathing was heavy, irregular. He just gaped in shock, for a long time, then collapsed into my arms, his body caving in. I felt the heat from his eyes drench my chest, my neck, my cheeks.

His face is nestled into my neck. I awaken from beneath a copious lot of bedsheets, to find him lying next to me, smiling, his honey eyes twinkling...content.
"I love you," he breathes into my lips. It says everything he wants to say. It captures his gratitude and describes his happiness so simply, yet so depthlessly.
I hold up his hand to the light, and a smile spread over my mouth to see a boy...that was healing.


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