---Patrick---

Kissing has never really appealed to me before today, but now I can't help but think about it and sigh as I watch Gerard walk away, his head down with his hands in his pockets and his hair bouncing behind him. He's walking down Fremont, passing the bus stop on the way and continuing down the path. He steps down off of the sidewalk onto the street and continues through the dangerous territory. It makes me a little uneasy watching him walk straight through the road but as he steps back up onto the other side of the street, I calm down, and I'm able to continue gazing at him without fear. Why does he make me so concerned for his safety? Is that normal? I can't really focus on it, though, because he's so fucking beautiful. Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm just concerned because he's a cherry blossom. He looks so pretty but I'm afraid he'll be gone soon. That's gotta be it.

Patrick, that's wrong.

I sigh, frustrated with my conflicting thoughts and emotions taking over before finally deciding I have to leave the bus stop. It'll be better if I don't stay. Kevin might end up telling more lies about me.

I quickly place my earbuds into my ears and take out my phone, scrolling through my music: Green Day, Green Day, The Offspring, Green Day, Blink-182, Green Day, Shinedown. In case it wasn't obvious, Green Day is my favorite band. I have all of their music. Well, almost all of it. I don't have their most recent album, 21st Century Breakdown.

It came out after The Incident...

I decide to just put it on shuffle since I can't decide what song to play. Adam's Song begins playing, the familiar intro to the song echoing through my ears. Guitar starting it off, drums cueing soon after, and then Mark coming in somewhere in there. I listen to this song a lot when I'm depressed or have a bottle of pills in hand. I've never been able to work up the courage to continue, but I've considered it a lot...

I walk the same road that Gerard did before now, crossing the faded black street with faded white lines and faded yellow lines. So faded, it's hard to distinguish the black from the white and the yellow looks closer to orange. This part of town is old. It hasn't been changed for at least twenty years. The roads are filled with potholes, cracks, and bumps. The paint is extremely worn out from everything that's happened to it. Each drop of rain, each car that's driven by...

Just like you, Patrick.

Just like me. Broken. Used. Old. Worn out. I need to be repaved but I have no new cement. Nothing to hold onto to pull me back up... Except... Maybe Gerard... But that's impossible. He'd never help me like that. And anyways, it would be like I'm using him.

I shut my eyes for a bit, trying to calm my growing nerves.

It'll be fine, Patrick, just don't be a fucking idiot like you almost always are.

It's going to be okay, just don't cause a scene and go straight to your room. Dad won't question it. Nobody will. They don't care about me, remember?

Nobody cares about you. Not Brendon, not Ryan, not Joe, not Frank, not even Gerard. Their lives would be so much better without you.

My foot steps up the first creaky step of our wooden front porch, then the second, and then up to the porch and I can't go any further. My feet stop me right in front of the door, my hand still at my side, clammily.

What if I just turned back and ran? What if I just ran as far away as I could? Would I still be able to get away? What if I don't have to go through this one more day? What if I can just skip it today and not worry? What if I can just forget about it for one day?

Come on, Patrick. You know you can't avoid it. You deserve everything they do.

I bite my lip and close my eyes, hoping to wake up in paradise. But that'll never happen. I know it'll never happen. This is the life I have, and I can't change it, no matter how hard I try. Only two more years and I can leave. And it'll be better. Even then, I won't have enough money to support myself. So maybe another two years after that if Dad doesn't kick me out.

My eyes open again, but only I exhale loudly in disappointment because I'm still here. In front of my house. I'll never wake up in paradise. I just need to go. I finally place my hand on the cold doorknob.

Go.

The door opens easily, my anxiety spikes almost immediately, though, and I have to calm myself before I go into a full blown panic attack. I can't see Dad, but Kevin is there. Kevin. He's my older brother, but that doesn't mean he's any different than Dad. Worse than Dad...

He's napping, thank god, but if I'm not careful I'll wake him up and I'll have an entirely different problem to deal with. And it would involve a lot of pain and discomfort in general... His eyes are closed peacefully, his dark blonde hair swaying softly, his muscled arms positioned uncomfortably across the couch. It almost looks like he's as innocent as people think.

Yeah right.

He's done things to me... So has Dad... But it's fine, really. It's not like I've ended up in the hospital and Kevin and Dad haven't been bothering me as much lately. Just here and there...

Doesn't mean you're not scared of them.

I guess that's true, too... I am still scared... I'm terrified... I've never been more scared of anything in my life. Except... of something like The Incident happening... but that's okay. It's already over. It doesn't matter anymore. It's all over.

I shut the door behind me, finally deciding to just go to my room before Kevin can stop me. He doesn't do anything as the door shuts, meaning it's safe to continue. The carpet is stained under foot. Alcohol and blood on a light tan carpet. Those are the only stains I'd ever find on the carpet after The Incident.

I tread on light feet as I continue into the room, avoiding the empty bottles of beer and whiskey scattered across the floor. But just as I'm about to turn the corner to the hall that leads to my bedroom, I hear footsteps in the kitchen.

I have to force myself to keep calm.

Inhale, exhale. It's going to be okay.

What are you talking about, idiot? He's going to beat you bloody!

I turn to see Dad, struggling to keep my eyes brave and my head high against a half-empty bottle of beer and an addict. He looks wobbly on his feet, but his posture is still straight as usual. He looks at me with those dark green eyes, anger clouding out his real emotions. The alcohol taking over his actions and forcing something on him that he shouldn't bare. He's holding onto the doorway for balance but looking straight at me like I'm the only thing in the room. Like I'm the only problem in his life. That's what he treats me like, anyways. He treats me like garbage.

It's probably true, though. I'm just a pathetic, useless waste of space. Him and Kevin are both right about it. I probably do deserve what he does to me. I do deserve what Kevin does when Dad's not around. I deserve all of it. Every sliver of pain they put on me. Every last bit.

I'm pathetic.

"Where were you last night, Boy?" He growls from the other side of the room, rage filling his round face.

"I-I was home last night," I stutter out, fumbling over my words. Fear and caution easy to hear in my voice as I pick out what I say, carefully. Phrasing it just right. Crafting it in such a way that will attempt to keep me on his good side.

"He's lying!" Kevin snaps angrily, his untruthful words are obvious to me but not to Dad. My gaze is averted from my father to the now awake boy on the couch. He means trouble. He's going to lie. Something is going to happen to me... "I saw him sneaking out last night."

Dad's glare snaps back to me, "What did I tell you about sneaking out again, Boy?"

I gulp, trying to stop to tears of fear reaching my eyes. The memories of last time Kevin lied to Dad about me sneaking out return to me, flashing in my mind for a second. I can't go through that again. I can't...

"P-please, I w-wasn't out last night!" I cry out, practically begging. Begging because it hurts. Begging because I don't want the taste of blood in my mouth, much less anything else that gets in there. Begging, because no matter how much I deserve it, I try to avoid it. I'm desperately trying to find an escape.

Like a fucking coward.

"Boy, you know better than to avoid it." Dad snarls. He looks to Kevin before grumbling out a lazy, "Don't keep me awake."

Kevin shoots up from the couch, excitement obvious in his movements but not to his face while Dad turns around and head back down to the basement. Probably to sleep or get even more wasted than he already is. I shudder to think what it does to his health. It's fairly obvious through his looks but on the inside is what worries me.

In all honesty, I don't care that they beat me, I've still got a strand of love left for them or I wouldn't be here. They've just been hurt, and this is how they cope... I guess... For something I did...

Kevin looks back to make sure Dad's gone before he walks over to me, quick on his feet. I can only stand frozen, terrified with fresh tears gathering in my eyes. I know exactly what he's going to do and I hate it. I hate how he touches me and what he makes me do. It's embarrassing and uncomfortable. I'd take a beating over it any day... Anything to keep it away.

Of course, Dad doesn't know what Kevin does. He's homophobic. Extremely homophobic. If he finds out what I think of Gerard, he'll probably kill me trying to beat it out of me. He isn't even religious, just against homosexuals. He thinks it's disgusting...

"Come on, Slut," Kevin growls, yanking me by my hair into my room. His grip is tight and it takes all my will not to scream because that'll only make Dad come up and beat me himself. Kevin shoves me down on the bed before turning and locking the door, making sure nobody will walk in. Fear has me in a death-hold and I wonder if there's a way I could get away from this without alerting dad. But that's impossible... Dad would still find out eventually...

Kevin turns back to me as I sit on the bed nervously, my hands shaking and my eyes locked on him like he's a predator and I'm prey. I feel so vulnerable. Weak. He could do anything to me but somehow there are limits for him on how far he'd take this. He won't actually take my virginity, and I don't have to take him, thank God. He mostly just forces me to... To... Take him... In my mouth... Or he'll cause me a lot of pain. Whichever one he feels like. I guess the former today by how eager he is.

I swallow nervously as he comes back towards the bed and yanks me by my hair onto my knees, pain shooting through my scalp as he does it. It feels bad and I just want him to stop. I don't want to go through this again. I want him to stop. I want him to leave me alone. But... I only want what I can't have, I guess. He quickly unzips his pants making me whimper in embarrassment and fear. I really don't want this now. I want him to let me go but I just have to sit still and take it.

He leans down toward my ear, a fistful of my hair grasped tightly in his hand making my eyes water, "Be quiet and open wide, whore."