?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
27 June 2010 @ 10:41 pm
Carriers [7/11]  

Chapter 6

It was Thursday. It was the night.

Brendon was scared out of his wits. He looked at the clock that hung in the hallway outside of his room. It was two hours until they were supposed to do it.

That morning, Joanne had come into his room with a huge grin on her face, “Good morning, Ofross.”

“Good morning,” Brendon had replied.

“Tonight is the night, do you remember everything?” Joanne asked.

Brendon nodded and began picking at his food with a fork. Joanne had slapped his hand and told his to not be so nervous because it wasn’t supposed to be anything.

“This is your job and nothing else,” Joanne had told him.

Brendon nodded and took the vitamins from her hands when she’d offered them to him.

“Thursdays there is no shopping, that is why yesterday Clara sent to you for a lot,” Joanne explained, “I’ll come for you at noon for your shower and then you have lunch.”

Brendon stared absently out of the window while he ate. He didn’t even notice when Joanne came for his tray. When he looked at the clock behind him it was eleven. An hour until she came back for him.

Brendon went to sit at his window ledge and stared out of the window. He stared at the tops of the trees and the manicured gardens of every house. He watched cars and people pass by and hoped they all valued their freedom. He saw Ofwentz standing in front of his window and waved, hoping that he would notice.

Ofwentz waved back, pretended to tie a rope around his neck and pulled, let his head fall to the side and pretended to be dead.

Brendon laughed out loud and smiled at Ofwentz. Patrick smiled back and then grimaced.

Brendon made a disgusted face back at him and saw Patrick start laughing.

They went on like that, making faces at each other until Joanne came for him. Brendon was making a face when he felt a tap on his shoulder and he jumped.

Joanne gave him a puzzled look, “What are you doing?” she asked in a disgruntled voice.

“Entertaining myself,” Brendon replied he looked over to see that Patrick was no longer at his window.

“By making faces at the passer-bys?”

“I was actually using the window as a mirror,” Brendon replied.

“Oh. Well then,” Joanne tried to hide an amused smile. She pulled Brendon’s curtains shut and he followed her out into the hallway.

Brendon went into the bathroom and shut the door. Joanne sat on the chair outside of the door and pulled out some yarn and knitting needles.

Brendon turned on the hot water and let the steam heat up the room before stepping into the
shower. Brendon stood under the hot water for a few minutes. As the water ran down over his body he couldn’t help but think of how everything was supposed to happen tonight. He was terrified. Brendon knew what he was supposed to do, and knew how. But all Brendon thought about was how a dick was going to be up his ass in a few hours and up until now he considered himself a straight man.

Brendon also couldn’t help but think about Commander Ross. Brendon couldn’t deny that he was attracted to him, but he couldn’t remember when he’d begun to find men attractive.

Brendon wondered why life had gotten so complicated.

Brendon hadn’t realized how long he’d spent in the shower when he heard a knock and Joanne saying, “Hurry boy, I don’t have all day.”

Brendon hurried to rinse off and grabbed the towel that was on the countertop and wrapped it around his hips. He shook his head to get rid of extra water from his hair and couldn’t bring himself to care when the mirror was speckled with water droplets. He didn’t see clothes or any other towels.

Brendon opened the door slowly and peered at Joanne, “Am I supposed to go out like this? I only have one towel.”

“Oh for god sakes boy, yes, no one’s going to see you. They’re all downstairs. Now I have to get downstairs and help Clara clean. Go to your room,” Joanne rolled her eyes and walked towards the stairs, leaving Brendon by himself.

Or so Brendon thought because as soon as he began walking towards his room Commander Ross came out of the room just before his own and almost rammed right into Brendon.

They both stopped dead in their tracks and Brendon felt Commander Ross’ intense stare. Brendon felt his eyes roaming up and down his body and he couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his back.

Brendon looked up at Commander Ross and was met with his eyes. Brendon felt his knees tremble and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

Commander Ross seemed to break out of a trance and pushed passed Brendon. His hand grazed Brendon’s hip as he passed by and Brendon couldn’t help but wonder if that had been an accident.

That night after he ate, Brendon heard a small bell go off in the house. That was his signal.

Brendon walked downstairs slowly trying to buy time but all too soon he stood outside the family room. He knocked slowly and heard Keltie’s soft “Come in,” a few seconds after.

Brendon pushed open the door and quickly and quietly went to Keltie’s left-hand side and sank to his knees, letting his head fall.

The tension in the room was so thick that at times Brendon felt like taking deeper breaths than were actually needed. A few more minutes passed and the others came in. Clara and Joanne with the chauffer stood at the opposite side of the room with expressionless faces.

Brendon was lost in his thoughts when he heard the door knob start turning and the door open.

“Sorry I’m late,” Commander Ryan said before taking his place behind the open podium. He read off lines from what looked like a bible but Brendon couldn’t place any of the stories or verses. After a while Ryan simply closed the book and walked out. The help walk out after him, all of them going back to their own business. Keltie stood up and placed a hand on Brendon’s shoulder as a signal for him to follow her.

When they reached the master bedroom Keltie swiftly turned around and told Brendon to give her two minutes to get prepared. Brendon nodded and stood outside of her door.

When Brendon heard no more rummaging on the other side of the door he figured it was safe to walk in. Keltie was lying on her bed with a blindfold over her eyes. Her legs were separated and there was a pillow to raise Brendon’s hips in between. Keltie had a blanket thrown over herself and she looked just about ready to throw up.

Brendon slowly slid in between Keltie’s legs and let his head fall on the pillow she had placed for him. He made sure the other pillow elevated his hips. Another, dark but sheer sheet was placed over Brendon’s face and top half so the Commander could not see his face very well.

Brendon could hear Keltie start to lose the composure she had had when he first walked into the family room. She was trying to hold back choked sobs and Brendon really just wanted to give her a hug and tell her that he didn’t want to do this anymore than she did.

A soft knock came at the door and Keltie quickly took in a few breaths and told the commander to come in. Brendon couldn’t see much and was glad for the dark sheet on his face.

The commander came to stand in front of Brendon and waited. Keltie opened her hands and Brendon placed his in hers. She held his hands as a sign of permission.

Once Keltie’s consent had been “given” Commander Ross continued by unbuckling his own pants.

The clanging of the buckle and the noise from the zipper made Brendon want to jump off the bed and run away as fast as he could.

Brendon then felt his own pants being slid down and his legs spread open. He had never felt so exposed in his life; the feeling of being watched made him sick to his stomach.

Brendon felt Commander Ross inching closer to him and before he knew it Commander Ross was pushing into him. Brendon wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, but most of all he wanted to shove the Commander off of him and kick his ass.

Brendon had never felt such an intense pain. He felt like he was being ripped in half and he couldn’t do anything about it. He was choking back his own sobs, hoping they couldn’t hear him, and Keltie held onto his hand hard, their sweaty palms and fingers intertwining, with her nails diggings into his hand.

The commander was thrusting in relentlessly; obviously unknowing that Brendon was a virgin.
Brendon swallowed a shout every time he felt the commander’s dick being dragged in and out of him; the pain made his body heat up and he felt sweat breaking out on his forehead and the back of his neck.

A few more minutes passed and the commander finally finished. He quickly zipped up his own pants and walked out. Brendon was supposed to stay there a few more minutes and let whatever was supposed to happen, happen, but he quickly got up and pulled up his own pants.

Brendon limped back to his own room and shut the door behind himself. It was only when he laid under the covers that Brendon allowed himself to cry freely.

*

Patrick had a feeling of uneasiness as he walked out of Ashlee and Pete’s room. The Ceremony had gone over fine, probably to them anyway, but it left Patrick feeling more and more like a doll that was used and then discarded.

Ashlee had all but kicked him out of her room shortly after. Patrick walked back to his own room and looked out of his window. He couldn’t see Ofross and his lights weren’t on so

Patrick figured he had gone to sleep. Patrick slid under his own covers and stared at the ceiling all night.

The next morning Patrick could barely open his eyes, seeing as he’d only fallen asleep as the first rays of light were illuminating the sky. Lucia had come in waking him up early because he had to get to the market on time before certain items were out for the day.

“Ofwentz get up,” Lucia shook him.

Patrick mumbled something back at her and Lucia walked out of the room, telling him she’d be back in fifteen minutes with his breakfast.

Patrick could barely stand up straight when he got out of bed. He quickly slipped on some fresh clothes and sat at his table waiting for Lucia. He looked across the street and noticed that Brendon’s curtains were still closed.

After breakfast he walked downstairs and took the list of foods from Sylvia’s hand, muttering a “good morning,” before he walked out of the back door.

Patrick went around the house and down to the spot where he was supposed to meet Ofross but he wasn’t there. Patrick was supposed to wait fifteen minutes for his walking partner and if he didn’t show up he was to go back inside and tell the maidens.

About ten minutes had passed and Patrick was starting to get a little antsy. He couldn’t see into Ofross’ window to determine if he was awake. Patrick was walking back to the house when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Good morning,” Ofross whispered softly.

“May you be blessed,” Patrick replied.

“You as well my brother,” Ofross said quietly.

Patrick was confused by Ofross’ sudden mood change, just a few days ago he was bubbling and well, sort-of happy. But as they began to walk down their path to the city Patrick saw why he was so quiet.

Ofross was limping, though not very noticeably, down the street. Patrick wondered why Ofross seemed to be in such pain and when the answer finally crossed his mind he stopped walking.

Ofross walked a few more feet before noticing that Patrick was no longer at his side.

“Is something wrong?” Ofross asked.

“Nothing with me,” Patrick answered.

“Then why did you stop?” Ofross seemed confused.

“Ofross, were you a virgin?” Patrick asked bluntly.

Ofross turned bright red and nodded, “Was my limp noticeable?”

“Not really, but you were acting different and that sparked my curiosity,” Patrick replied.

Ofross laughed solemnly.

“Are you okay?” Patrick asked.

Ofross’ eyes turned a dark shade of brown almost black, “It hurt, a lot.”

Patrick felt bad for him because he did know how much it hurt, especially the first time.

“Did you tell them? Did he prep you?”

Ofross laughed, for real this time.

“That’s funny. No, they didn’t know and if we’re being honest here I don’t think he would have cared,” Ofross replied as he started walking again.

Patrick had almost forgotten the reason why Ofross had to lose his virginity in the first place and the realized that he was right; those people wouldn’t have cared at all.

They kept on walking through the city and picked up the families’ groceries quickly so they could take longer walking back home.

“So how was it for you?” Ofross asked him as they started their trek back home.

“Same old, same old,” Patrick replied nonchalantly.

“So you weren’t…,” Ofross started to ask.

“No, I wasn’t. I’m gay,” Patrick replied.

Ofross looked unperturbed, as if he wasn’t surprised by the answer.

“You?” Patrick asked.

“Me what?” Ofross questioned.

“Are you gay?” Patrick clarified.

Ofross shrugged in reply.

“Well were you with a girl before all this mess happened?”

“Yes,” Ofross replied curtly.

Patrick decided not to push that subject any further and instead pointed out something
disgusting on the wall.

“Oh my –,” Ofross started.

“What the fu-,” Patrick began saying.

On the wall hung three dead bodies, all of them wore white clothing that was drenched in
blood. Over them in black, bold letters were the words “Do Not Fight It.”

A sweat broke out along Patrick’s back and he took a step closer to the bodies that purposely hung at eye level. Patrick took a woman’s hand and was disturbed by the cold. He dropped her hand and ran a finger down her neck, he noticed rope burns all around her neck; she had been hung and then brought for display.

Ofross coughed behind him and Patrick snapped out of it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ofross asked.

“How could they do this?” Patrick ignored his question.

“Because they can, and nobody fights them,” Ofross replied sadly.

They walked home in and overbearing silence. They couldn’t get their minds off of the display of people.

“May the blessing be bestowed upon you,” Patrick said.

“Unto you as well,” Ofross replied and they parted at the street corner.

Patrick walked into the house and noticed no one was home.

“Hello?” Patrick called out.

“Upstairs,” he heard Pete yell.

Patrick dropped the food off in the kitchen and took the stairs up two steps at a time. He saw Pete leaning against his bedroom door like it was okay for him to be there.

“Where is everyone?” Patrick asked.

“I don’t know, one of the carriers had a baby. You were supposed to be picked up by the van
but you weren’t here so they left you behind,” Pete informed him.

“How long will they be gone?”

Pete shrugged.

“Did they take Bronx?”

Pete nodded.

Patrick stood at the top of the stairs awkwardly. Pete came to stand at his side and took
Patrick’s hand in his own.

Patrick looked down at their intertwined hands and looked back up at Pete confusedly.

“Hi,” Pete said.

Patrick didn’t know how to respond.

“So…”

“What?” Patrick asked.

Pete smiled, “You look pretty today.”

Patrick rolled his eyes.

“You do ‘Trick. You were always the prettiest,” Pete said quietly.

“Don’t start,” Patrick told him but it was too late. Before he could process what was happening Pete was bring their lips together.

Suddenly everything seemed to move backward in time as Patrick’s soft lips pressed to Pete’s slightly dry ones. The memories he had tried to suppress from years ago came flooding back.

One memory in particular, the night that Pete first told Patrick he loved him.

“You’re going to get yourself killed or worse, get me killed.” Patrick laughed as he let Pete pull him down the busy streets downtown by the hand,

“Don’t worry ‘Trick. I’d never let anything happen to you,” Pete reassured him.

“I’m not convinced that my life is in any less danger now,” Patrick joked, “Can we get out of the rain? My pants are soaking and my shoes are flooded.”

Pete suddenly turned around and slammed right into Patrick.

“Why did you stop here dummy? We’re going to get hit,” Patrick tried to pull Pete out of the street Pete stood heavy on the ground and pulled Patrick back to him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, ever.” Pete said seriously, “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you, I promise. I love you, Patrick.”

Patrick stood frozen for a few seconds before smiling, “I love you too, Pete.”

Pete smiled meekly and kissed Patrick in the roaring rain. They stood in the middle of the street as people drove by them honking their horns and yelling out of their windows.


“No Pete,” Patrick mumbled as Pete continued to kiss him. It took all of Patrick’s power push Pete off of him as hard as he could.

“Patrick what’s-,” Pete looked shocked.

“No Pete shut up. Don’t kiss me like that ever. You broke us up. You didn’t want me anymore
because I didn’t conform to your plan. You broke my heart and then trapped me back here just as I was starting to really be happy again. You did the one thing you said you would never let anyone do. Pete you hurt more than anyone. Leave me alone,” Patrick walked passed Pete and into his own room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Pete reacted within moments, running to Patrick’s door and jiggling the knob whilst pounding on the door, “Patrick let me in. Patrick, I love you. I still do, I never stopped. I don’t know why I did what I did but let me prove to you that I still love you as much, no, more than ever. Please Patrick open the door.”

Pete slid to the floor and continued with his pleas until his wife came home.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, Patrick was curled up in a corner, with a pillow covering his ears and tear stained cheeks.

Chapter 8