---Patrick---

I've never felt so trapped before.

The alley is small, cold. A long narrow path that leads to light that might mean freedom but right now, I'm just a mouse. I can't get too far too fast because I'm stuck in the dark. The cat's dragging me back to its lair. I don't dare squeak for the cat can kill me at any moment. I don't run, the cat could pounce. I don't try to fight back, I don't have a chance. What do I have? I have nothing besides Gerard, but I know even he's going down swinging. It's useless, the cat's already got us in its grasp, and it's only a matter of time before we're dead.

"Search them," Bob growls. I feel hands on my body, violating me. I'm scared. I want to scream. I want to run. I want to escape from this hell. I want anything besides... this. I've been in this situation too many times to be normal. It's not normal. Once is more than enough for one person but... four times, now? Five counting this one? This is terrifying. I really do deserve it, don't I? Why does Gerard even deny it?

First, was with Dad. A week after The Incident, he hit me. It was just a slap. A mere slap because he was a little tipsy and he immediately apologized like a typical Dad would. I got mad, yelled at him for drinking. I went to my room and, pissed, fell asleep. A month later, he hit me again, but this time, he was drunk. Really, really drunk. He beat me. He hit me over and over again, shoved me against the wall, banging my head. He restrained my hands to stop me from fighting. I went to bed that night sobbing because I was so scared. He insulted me, called me worthless, told me I didn't deserve to be called his son. I believed him, and that was the start of... this...

Next, there was Bob and Jon and Spencer. They'd take me behind the school after hours and beat me up just like Dad but they weren't as strong and I didn't believe them as much because both Jon and Spencer looked like they didn't want to be there. The bullying from them wasn't that bad in perspective. It still hurt, though. The last time Jon and Spencer joined in on it was when Gerard stopped them. When I first met him forever ago in a gym locker in a school that seems a million miles away right now.

Kevin came after the first time Jon and Spencer and Bob hit me when we were alone, he'd beat me. He'd hurt me like Dad asked, but then there was the first time he... touched me. I had never been more scared in my life. I thought he was going to rape me. All the flashbacks of my past always have that memory in it. It hurts me. It hurts me so badly that I can feel is with the flashbacks and I hate it. I hate how it feels. I hate how he forced me to my knees and talked to me like a fucking lover. I want to puke just thinking about it. Worse, I knew he was going to do it. It was always my fault that he did it. It's always been my fault, when has it not been my fault? It was just... horrible... not to mention the time he actually raped me...

There was Bob again, in the alley. The time that forced me to leave Gerard for a week or so because I couldn't take the stress. I couldn't take the anxiety and the depression and the PTSD and the constant feeling of guilt. I just needed my escape, and it involved a fuckton of weed, ecstasy, gin, and sex. That was the time where he just beat me over and over again and all I could see was the flashbacks. I don't know how many there were. There must have been hundreds. Each one was just a split second long but I was so convinced Bob was Dad or Kevin and it didn't even make sense. It's like a dream, where it makes sense while you're dreaming but when you wake up, you finally just think over the vision and say, what the fuck was I thinking? I finally woke up when Gerard came, but I was still terrified. I didn't want them to hurt me. I didn't want anyone to hurt me. I was so fucking scared because I thought he was only going to hurt me more. At the same time, though, I know I deserved it. I know it was my fault they hurt me. I know it's always been my fault if I had just struggled a little harder against Bob when he got me into that van... If only...

Finally, there's here. Now. Whatever they're going to do to us. Probably kill us. I know I deserve it... I don't want this, but I know I don't have the luck to die peacefully in my sleep. I've got a guilty conscience. I heard the boots, why didn't I tell Gerard we should go? I should have looked to see who it was. I wish... If only... I could've...

The hands grab my phone, another takes the backpack from Gerard's back and his phone from his pocket. Neither of us have a chance of calling 9-1-1 now. Neither of us have a chance of living. The objects are all thrown into a pile just a little bit away.

"Get the blonde one first." Bob says, "I heard he screams for his Mom in the middle of the night. Maybe he'll cry for her now." He chuckles a dark laugh, it makes my insides twist like I'm sick. Like I'm going to vomit. I'm used to purging, though. Why is this any different?

"Please," I beg, I shouldn't beg. I deserve this but I'm so fucking weak I have no choice but to beg. Beg for mercy, beg for them to leave me alone, beg for them to realize I don't want this. It's useless. I'm useless. I'm just a broken boy, can I ever be healed?

Bob throws me against the wall. The girl and the boy with the backward cap (I'll just call them Beanie and Cap) pin me up against the cold building causing a shock of pain to jolt up my back. I clench my teeth and shut my eyes, waiting for the first impact while tears begin to prick at my eyes. Tears of fear and hate and guilt and shame. Every negative emotion I can muster up right now is coming out, and I'm crying. I'm crying and sobbing and begging just like Kevin made me do. Just like Dad forced me to do. Just like Bob is making me do.

The first punch hits my stomach, I nearly puke at the feeling of it. It settles in quickly and turns into a dull, throbbing ache, but it doesn't take long for the next one to interrupt it. The next is to the stomach, too. And again and again and again. Over and over, each wave worse than the last and each hit causing a grunt of pain or a soft plead for him to stop.

"Stop it! Let him the fuck go! He's had enough of this in his goddamn life!" I hear Gerard screaming. The man holding him has the knife against his throat, and it's digging in little by little, blood dripping from the wound but it doesn't look like he's intimidated, he's just desperate to get Bob, Beanie, and Cap to stop. Another blow hits my cheek, leaving a cut and a bruise that I know will be there for a while. All I can do is clench my teeth and try not to fade out to the flashbacks. Desperate to keep control of myself because I know if I can't I'll be weak, and I know I'll deserve this more than I already do.

Beanie and Cap let go, causing me to fall to my knees but it's not long before Dad-no Kevin... It's not long before Bob's kneed me in the face and my head is thrown back hitting the wall. I have my arms on my face, and I'm crying. Why am I crying? It's pathetic.

Another kick in the stomach, I puke this time, it splatters on the ground in a puddle of browns and orange. It's disgusting, but my bully still lets out a sick laugh, "Fucking pathetic, aren't you?"

My hands just barely holding me up, "Please, B-Bob..." I sob.

He rolls me over, so my back is against the alley wall, but I'm still huddled in a ball. He holds my arm, "Fucking faggot. It's disgusting. What's wrong with you?" It's a growl and with each word is a kick to my stomach. Over and over again, harder and harder until I can't breathe and I'm gasping for air. I think Gerard's still screaming, but I can't be sure. Will I ever be sure of what happens? Or will I die? Here and now? I'm not afraid to keep on living, but I'm not afraid to die, either. I'll welcome it if I have to. Maybe I'll join my own Black Parade with my old family, happily...

"Get the other one. This one's done for." Bob growls. My vision is kind of clearing up, but I see these little black spots here and there. It's weird. I can barely breathe, it's terrifying me, and as I'm thrown back with Knife and switched out for Gerard, I feel myself losing control over myself.

"Stop," I mumble out. I'm so... dizzy...

I puke again, doubling over in Knife's arms and coughing. I take a deep breath. I'm struggling to stay conscious, but it's so hard when all these flashbacks keep coming, and my head is pounding, and my stomach is littered with bruises, and my face has cuts across it, and Knife feels so warm...

"Patrick?" A girl? She sounds familiar... I look over and with half closed eyes and a knife to my throat, see Megan. Megan? No, she's just... just another flashback... has to be...

Right...

Fuck...

I'm fading... I need to... stay... conscious... Gerard's gonna... Megan... Kevin and Dad and... and... a...nd...

Gerard's screams.