This was just a short story I wanted to get out there real fast. Warning: It's on my dark side again so be prepared to hate me a little bit. But I promise I'll make it up to you in the end.
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Demetrius bowed his head as the priest above him began prayer. His father and mother mumbled along with him, clasping their hands tightly together. His two younger brothers didn't seem to notice and proceeded to poke and prod each other until the other reacted. The twins fought constantly and it was all his mother and father could do to keep up with them. As one twin shakily pushed the other, Demetrius' mother opened one eye and shushed them, freezing both of the five year olds in their tracks.
Demetrius closed his eyes again and kept his head bowed. Finally, the group of people before the older priest opened their eyes and raised their heads as the priest moved on. Demetrius tried to listen, but was distracted as usual. He thought about school, and the chores he had forgotten to do, and how messy his room was. He had only turned eighteen last week, and was honestly surprised at how... average he felt.
People always spoke about how when they turned eighteen the first thing they would do is leave home. Or go to college. Or date a girl. But Demetrius never thought about any of those things.
His parents had made it clear that he was going to stay at home. They owned a small farm about half an hour away from town. With his brothers too young to do much, he and his father did most of the manual work. Not that he was much help either. He was short, and thin. Weighing only a hundred pounds. He could hardly lift the enormous bags of feed, or carry the buckets full of water. He was terrible at riding their horses, and even worse at caring for the more wild animals on the farm. His blonde hair was too long, and though they always spoke of getting it cut, it had just never happened. So it hung down to his shoulders, sometimes hiding his eyes.
When he was fourteen, he had started dating. Secretly of course. His parents were strict, and even cruel at times. He dated a few girls, never going farther than kissing, and one time feeling up a girl from his class. But no matter how hard he tried, he never understood what the other boys his age were talking about. They all drooled over the young women and their curvy bodies. While his friends looked at the women, he looked at his friends.
It had scared him at first, when he found himself attracted to the other boys, and not the girls. He stared at their growing chests and arms. Their untouched bodies. He couldn't help but be attracted to them. When he and a new kid on the football team had been alone in the locker room, he let everything slip away for a moment, and found himself kissing the young boy. After the boy had run away in fear, he realized what he had done. Still hard from the soft kiss, he panicked and ran from the locker rooms. But not before grabbing a jock strap from the boy's still open locker.
A week later, his mother had found the stolen jock strap and had told his father. Demetrius had been in his room reading when the furious man came in, belt in hand. Before he could even flinch, his father began laying into him. The belt cracked against his skin, turning it pink and swollen quickly. His father screamed questions at him as he whipped Demetrius with his leather belt, the buckle in his hand.
"Who's is this? Where in the lords name did you get it? What were you doing with it you filthy pervert?!" he shouted, swinging the belt back and forth with all his might. By now Demetrius had managed to curl into a ball on his bed, trying to shield the delicate features of his face from his father's blows. But nothing could stop the furious man, until he ran out of breath. He stopped, breathing hard. Demetrius slowly uncurled from his protective ball. His father's face was beet red from shouting and swinging the thick belt. Demetrius blinked away the tears in his eyes before he stuttered out the words he would regret for the rest of his life.
"I-I like boys," he almost sobbed the three words. His father turned an even brighter shade of red and turned to leave the room. Stopping and turning suddenly, he swung the belt one last time, the buckle out now. The gleaming piece of metal struck Demetrius in the eye. He screamed as blood dripped from the wound. He wasn't ever able to see out of his left eye after that. Forced to wear the dark eye patch that contrasted greatly against his pale blond hair, he never again spoke of his interest towards his own sex. But that never stopped him from thinking.
He watched as the alter boy walked around with incense, burning the familiar smelling sticks. He smiled a little bit, though it did seem fake. He saw the altar boy often, and couldn't help but stare at him every time his mother and father dragged him to the Catholic church. It made it slightly less painful as the priest began his regular speech on homosexuality. He endured the hateful words pouring from the older man's mouth. Several people nodded along with him, sometimes letting out a small 'amen' to themselves or those around them. Demetrius' mother wrapped her hand around Demetrius' own. He looked up and saw her eyes were closed as she prayed, for him of course. He kept his head down until it was time to leave. He stood and walked down the row of pews, his parents close behind. He saw the priest and the altar boy at the exit, saying goodbye to people as they left. He couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face as he reached the boy who looked close to the same age.
"Have a good day," the altar boy said. Demetrius remembered his name was Benjamin.
"You too," Demetrius squeaked out, before his father forced him out the door of the large church.
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Demetrius sat up in his room, in his window. He looked out over the fields his family owned and sighed. This was his home, but it felt like anything but. He got out of the window and sat down on his bed, his mind wandering to the handsome altar boy. He had never seen him around school, and figured he probably went to the only other high school in town. He would never forget such a face as that. He pulled off his eyepatch and rubbed his blind eye. He had never gone to the hospital for the injury his father had caused. The eyepatch was lying around in the attic from when his father had eye surgery several years before. His mother had dug it out for him after she managed to stop the bleeding, which took several hours. He stood up and walked into the bathroom. He leaned in close to the mirror and stared at his bad eye. It had long ago turned a miserable looking gray and glazed over. Every now and then it would get sore, but he knew his father would never take him to the hospital. How would he be able to explain it?
"Demetrius, dinner!" his mother called up to him. He slipped the eye patch back over his eye and opened his bedroom door, hurrying downstairs.
He sat down at the table and his brothers soon followed. His father was last inside, coming in as his mother set down the last of the food. He bowed his head as they said grace, before everyone dug into their food. His brothers chatted loudly, his father and mother sharing a few quiet words. He ate silently, not raising his head to anyone. He winced as his eye throbbed under the dark patch and tried to discreetly rub it, but it didn't go unnoticed by his mother.
"Is your eye bothering you, Demetrius?" she asked, turning her head.
"No, ma'am," Demetrius mumbled, before putting another forkful of chicken into his mouth.
"Too bad, you deserve it," his father grunted. Demetrius glanced up at him but said nothing, returning to his food. "Your brothers are ten times better than you," he said, looking at his squabbling siblings. Demetrius kept his head down and ate quietly. "Look up when I'm talking to you, boy." He reached a hand across the table and pushed Demetrius' chin up. Demetrius winced but kept eye contact with his father until he removed his hand from under his chin. He let his head fall back down so that he was staring at his plate.
