Chapter Twelve:
Breakdowns

"Gav, why don't you try going to work. It'll get your mind off... Well, you know," Michael suggested, walking over to me.

It's been a week since my father raped me. I hadn't been myself since then according to Michael. I mean, what did he expect from me? I surely wasn't gonna be all jubilant and excited afterwards.

"I don't want to," I told him, curling up into a tighter ball on the couch. I turned my attention back to the tv, which Michael had shut off.

"Well, can you at least go for a walk with me? Or... Or even a drive maybe?" Michael suggested.

"I'm not going for a drive," I told him bluntly.

"Okay, yeah, that was a stupid suggestion. But my point still stands. Sitting around and not doing anything isn't gonna fix anything. In fact, this is probably what your dad wanted. For you to just shut down and block out the world. You need to get back on your feet and prove to him that you're stronger than he is," Michael told me.

I thought over what he said, knowing that he was mostly right. I really did need to start focusing on beating my depression again.

However, I really didn't have the motivation, will, or energy to get up and do anything.

"No," I told Michael stubbornly.

Michael sighed in frustration, obviously trying to keep himself from yelling at me. I knew that he really wanted to, especially with my negative and stubborn attitude lately. Honestly, I was impressed with how much of my shit he could deal with without blowing up on me.

"Whatever, Gav. Lay around and do nothing. I honestly don't know what more I can do for you," Michael told me calmly. He got up from his place and went into our bedroom, closing the door behind him.

I watched the door for several more moments after he closed it, listening intently. I couldn't hear anything so I just shrugged it off and grabbed my phone.

I held it in my hands for several moments, not knowing if I really wanted to turn it on. I had tried avoiding social media and stuff since the rape out of fear people were somehow gonna find out and judge me. I knew I was gonna have lots of tweets thrown my way about my absence in videos and I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with that.

Slowly, I turned on my phone and entered my passcode, watching my apps and stuff appear. I slowly scrolled through all of them, opening Twitter.

Once Twitter loaded, I opened my notifications, noticing the hundreds of tweets directed towards me. I read through a couple from last week, noting that they were basically just people telling me their depression stories.

However, as I started opening the ones from this week, I noticed a common trend. Mostly people saying how they felt sorry for me for what I had to go through. I figured it was just about the depression video until I found a tweet with a link.

Oh my god, I can't believe someone would do this to poor Gavin. Hasn't he gone through enough?

I gulped and opened the link. I felt my heart pound against my chest as I played the video.
I felt like I was gonna get sick when I realized what the video was.

I watched myself in the video as I lolled my head back and forth on my bed, obviously being dizzy. My mouth was duck taped, along with my hands and ankles. Blood was pouring from my nose and onto the bed. Suddenly, my father appeared and shoved me further onto the bed, flipping me onto my stomach while I desperately fought back. He taped my wrists to the bedposts and began pulling off my pants. I could hear myself let out a muffled scream as he did this.

Once he began actually raping me I looked away. I couldn't watch this anymore. How many people saw this? How many people knew what happened to me? How many believed it was real?

When I looked back, I saw my father had climbed off me and was talking.

"Good boy, Gavin," He told me in his dark and horrible accented voice. My head twisted toward him. You could literally see the pain and fear in my eyes.

"Well, I really must head back to England. You're mother told me to give you something," He told me before ripping the tape off my mouth and basically shoving his tongue down my throat. I threw up immediately after which made my father step away and grab the camera, bringing it over to me.

"You shouldn't have done that. But oh well, it'll make a better video," My father told me, holding up the camera so you could see the damage he inflicted on my face. He immediately punched me across the face and the camera shut off.

I didn't even realize I was huddled in a ball again, biting the blankets until after the video was over. Tears dripped down my face and the urge to vomit overpowered all my other senses.

The next thing I knew, I was screaming.

"No!" I screamed out in a choking sob. I heard the door to Michael and I's bedroom open and Michael rushed out, confronting me.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, all anger he had for me disappearing.

I simply pointed at my phone and sobbed out again. Michael picked it up and watched the video, immediately stopping it when he realized what it was.

"Oh my god, Gavin... I-I'm so sorry," He told me.

Michael instantly wrapped me up in his arms, holding me gently. I clutched onto him, sobbing into his chest. This was horrible. I've never been more embarrassed and humiliated in my life. So many people must've seen that video.

"I... I can't do this, Michael... I can't," I sobbed. Michael clutched onto me a little tighter.

"Yes, you can, Gav. I know you can," Michael whispered reassuringly.

"No, Michael, I can't. I just... I can't," I told him, pushing him away. I got up and started pacing around the room, feeling my hands and legs shake violently.

"Gavin, stop. Sit down," Michael told me. For a moment, I could've sworn I heard fear in his voice.

"No, Michael! No! I... I want to die!" I screamed out, collapsing onto my knees and crying loudly.

I didn't realize what I had said until after I said it. Michael stopped for a moment, watching me. I suddenly stopped sobbing and thought over what I had just said.

I had never said out loud that I wanted to die.

"Gavin..." Michael said, slowly approaching me, he sat in front of me, letting me sit there and let my words sink in.

"I never thought I'd say that. Ever," I told him.

"I know," Michael responded gently.

"I... I've never felt so helpless in my life. Or so humiliated. I... I really, really want to die, Michael. I've never felt the need to die this much before. I don't know what to do anymore..." I said, surprisingly calmly. I felt like something snapped inside me.

"Okay... What else?" Michael asked me, giving me a slight smile. I slowly realized what he was doing. He was trying to get me to admit my feelings, kind of like a therapy session.

"I feel like the fans are gonna treat me differently now. Like they're never gonna see me as the lovable Brit they once knew... They're always gonna see me as a depressed, suicidal, abused and petrified man that only faked his happiness for others enjoyment," I told him.

Michael nodded and sighed. He took my hand in mine and squeezed it gently. I couldn't help but let my eyes travel to the cuts he put on his wrist for me. I let a tiny smile break out on my face. It was nice knowing he cared that much about me.

"Gav... I need to tell you something Geoff suggested. He talked to some people who specialize in depression and stuff and... They suggested you get taken to a hospital," Michael told me.

"What... What type of... Hospital?" I asked nervously, however I knew I already knew the answer.

"Gav... He wants to put you into a mental hospital," Michael told me.

More tears burst into my eyes and I shook my head quickly. I couldn't go there. I wouldn't go there. I wasn't crazy. I was just depressed.

"And... Honestly, I kind of agree with him," Michael told me sadly.

"No! No, you can't do this to me! I'm not crazy! I'm not!" I yelled at him, standing up so fast that it made my head spin.

"I didn't say you were. Gav, people go to hospitals for lots of reasons. One of my cousins went to one when she had depression. It isn't that bad," Michael reassured me, standing up and trying to calm me down.

"No! You... You can't do this to me. Please, Michael. I... I can't go there. Please," I literally begged him, tears still streaming from my eyes.

"Gavin..." Michael said.

"Please, Michael! Please. Don't make me go there. Please..." I sobbed out, collapsing onto my knees again. I curled up into a ball and screamed out in misery. I wasn't going to go. I couldn't.

"Gav, hush, I won't make you go. I'm sorry, just... Please, stop crying. Please," Michael told me, pulling me up and holding me.

I continued to cry in fear that he was only saying that to trick me. Michael hushed me like I was a child after a nightmare. He held me tightly, rocking me back and forth on the floor.

Eventually, my breathing slowed and my racing heart went back to a normal speed. Slowly, the tears stopped, and Michael pulled away a little, kissing my tear stained cheeks.

"Don't make them take me away from you," I whispered, closing my swollen and puffy eyes.

I felt Michael pull back a little and I could already see the confused and concerned look he was giving me without even looking at him. I heard him sigh gently and he kissed my head.

"I won't, Gav. I promise."
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Lately... Lots of stuff has been going on in my life. This story is probably going to be based a little more around my life since I think it would make a little more sense if I did it that way.
Anyway... I really hope you guys are enjoying. This story is probably going to be my more frequently updated story since I have some ideas for it. Please let me know what you think. It really motivates me to continue writing.
Thanks for reading!