Changes 2: Torn - Part 2

Hey guys thanks for the reviews! Sorry for taking so long to upload the next part. I see theres some confusion about the story.. TORN is the sequel to Changes, it happens a few months after the first one so it's the same character Mark and Matt only months after the envents of the 1st one. I'm also uploading another story which is Solitary Spider (it has nothing to do with this one) Hope you can read it too. Enjoy and please keep reviewing!!

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Three

“Why the long faces?” My dad asked without turning away from the television. I shut the front door and walked to the living room. I sighed as I sat down next to my dad.

“Matt might be in trouble” I asked as I stared blankly at the football game. My dad turned to see me and asked concerned what was wrong.

“I got this email” I started by my mom rushed out the kitchen asking what was wrong with Matt.

I explained to both of them what had happened and once I was done my mom drove her hand to her mouth “Oh God poor Matt”

“Did you tell him he can stay here?” My dad asked concerned.

“Yeah but he said he had to go home” I answered staring at my hands; I felt like crying but didn’t want to do it in front of my parents.

“He’s gonna be alright” my dad said as he put his hand on my shoulder.

“Yes, all parents want is what’s best for their children, we want them to be happy” my mom said as she sat next to me.

“It’ll be alright” my dad said again. They were trying to convince themselves, and it wasn’t helping.

I looked at the bright, white Word page in front of me. It was 10pm and I hadn’t written my report, and I didn’t see myself ever doing it with Matt on my mind. I grabbed my cell phone and opened the lid to see if I had any missed calls or any messages from Matt. Nothing.
I grunted as I massaged my eyelids.

I had to do a report on a book we read a few weeks back; since it was a dramatic love story I put on some right tunes for inspiration. As the sweet melody began I began writing.
The words of David Gray’s song went through me and it stirred ideas for the report.

“This year’s love had better last
Heaven knows it's high time
And I've been waiting on my own too long
But when you hold me like you do
It feels so right
I start to forget
How my heart gets torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Feeling like you can't go on
And when you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain't this life so sweet

this year’s love had better last
This year’s love had better last”

Forty five minutes later I had a three page report done. I stretched as the report printed and saw the time. 11.50pm, and still no news from Matt. I thought about calling him or texting him but maybe that wouldn’t be such a good idea. All I could do was wait.

I took my printed report and saved it in a yellow folder and went to bed. I surfed through the channels until I finally left on a VH1 reality shows. I watched it without paying any attention to it, and slowly I fell asleep.

A loud thunder violently woke me up. I looked at the time, 1.30am. I turned my television off and looked out the window. The sky was dark and menacing, with sudden bursts of lighting.

I looked at my cell again and I still had nothing from Matt, and before the next loud thunder, I heard a noise downstairs. I walked slowly to the door and listened carefully for any sound. There was definitely movement coming from downstairs. I opened the door and saw the kitchen light was on, as I tiredly walked down the stairs I still couldn’t make out what my parents were saying, and then I heard a third voice.

I quickly went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Matt was sitting on of the chairs with his back to me and my parents were to his side and with their arms around him. They both turned to see me as I entered. Realizing they had turned, Matt raised his head and then turned.

My mouth dropped as I saw his blooded face. He got up and tried running to me but he was so beaten up he couldn’t even walk fast. As I hugged him he started crying like I’ve never seen him cry before.
I held him softly, trying not to hurt him as he almost buried his fingers in my back. He started crying so hard he started choking. I saw my mom shaking her head as tears dripped down her eyes. My father looked at Matt with pain as I held him; Matt’s heart ripping cries stronger than the thunder outside.

“Come on, let’s go to the hospital” my dad said as my mom gently placed her hands on Matt’s back. “Can you walk?”
Matt let go of me and nodded as he tried to stop the weeping.

The four of us left the house and went in the car. My parents rode in the front seat and Matt and me in the back. At that moment as we rushed to the hospital, I realized how lucky I was to have parents like them. I had no contact at all with other gay people so I didn’t know any experiences, but I was sure not many gay guys were as lucky as me to have supporting parents, that not only were cool with me being gay but also cool with my boyfriend and him staying at our house; they loved Matt.

I squeezed Matt’s hand as he looked silently out the window, trying to erase all the pain he was feeling. It must be horrible not only lacking the support of his parents, but a dad who can’t stand the idea to the point of horribly beating up his own son.

I squeezed his hands and gently rub it with my big finger. I noticed he was trying not to breathe so his cries wouldn’t become screams again. Looking at him I thought of how stupid and weak I was for trying to kill myself, my pain wasn’t half as bad as what Matt must be going through; and the thought made my throat tighten.

At almost 4 in the morning we got back home. Matt needed a couple of stitches on his face and he had to wear a small cast on his left wrist, other than that it was ‘just’ bruising.

My parents, Matt and I were all beat and wanted nothing else but to sleep. My mom gently kissed Matt’s forehead and his eyes became watery again. “Thank you” he whispered.

“You’re like a son to us, Matt” my dad said lovingly and Matt couldn’t keep the tears from falling. And as I helped him up the stairs to my room, I turned to them and thanked them.

In my room I helped him take his clothes off and my throat tightened again as I saw the bruises on the sides of his torso, on his back, on his leg. I couldn’t believe someone I considered a God could be in the shape he was now; so human, so vulnerable, so hurt.
I helped him under the covers and then I took my clothes off and got in with him. He moved to make himself more comfortable and cringed with pain.

“Do you want anything? I’ll get you some aspirin or a hot-“ I said as I started to get up from the bed but he took hold of my arm.

“Stay with me” his voice was breaking.

“Always” I said as I lay close to him.