Short story we had to write (the ending is kinda wack)
The last thing I remember is the sound of someone screaming and crying. Pleading that I’ll be okay. The feeling of someone squeezing my hand as they softly pray for my safety. Then silence. I don’t hear the prayers anymore, or the crying, or the screaming. The tranquility of the situation is so nice, I can’t help but wake up. The light is so warm on my cold body. As I lay there in silence, not knowing who I am.
I don’t know how long I laid there, but as the sun slowly set I could tell it was pretty late. The noises still loud as ever and the feeling of something missing still there. I could still hear the sound of people screaming and saying that ‘Lawrence didn’t deserve this’ or ‘He had it coming for being what he was’. From what I could understand, I must be Lawrence. I don’t know what I ‘had coming’ or what I ‘deserved’ but it must have been something terrible to end up like this.
In this foreign place with so many things I don’t understand, it feels like I’ve been asleep for so long, like I’ve missed an important event of my life. It’s not until hours later when I’m pulled out my trance of trying to figure out who I am when a lady walks in pushing a cart.
“Mr. Wright,” she gasps, “I- You weren’t supposed to wake up for another month, I must tell the doctor. Please excuse me.” she says rushing out the door before I could respond. Not even minutes later, a man accompanied by the lady rushes back in with a clipboard in hand. He pulls up a chair and takes a seat.
“Mr. Wright,” he starts, “you must be very confused as to where you are. My name is Dr. Seinfeld and I am here to check on you. I ask that you answer all the questions that I have to the best of your abilities. Do you understand?” he questions. Not knowing what to do I nod hoping that he wouldn’t ask me anything else. Which wasn’t the case as he started asking questions left and right.
“Do you know who you are?”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Do you remember anything?”
Of all the questions he asks, I respond to everything with a simple ‘No’ to all but one. I knew my name. He looks at me and then quickly writes a bunch of notes on his clipboard before standing up. “Okay, Mr. Wright thank you for answering all my questions. I called your family to inform them that you have woken up and I’ll send them up when they get here. Do you understand?” he asked. I nod, once again hoping he would just leave already.
Seeming to understand that I understood he gathered his things and left. When he’s finally gone I lay back down and look out the window, somewhat excited to see my family arrive. A few minutes later I hear people running down the hall before my door is pushed open and two people run in. The woman runs towards me with tears running down her face as she comes to give he a hug. She squeezes me tightly, sobbing onto my shoulder
“Lawrence, oh Lawrence you're okay! Thank god!” she sobs. I don’t know how long we sat there as she cried until the man waiting behind her finally spoke.
“Marrie let the poor boy go, the doctor told us he has amnesia he probably has no idea who you are,” the man mentioned almost uncaringly.
“Yes, you’re right William. Lawrence I’m your mother, Marrie and this is your father, William. You’ve been in a coma for five months after an unfortunate incident. I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault and they had no right to do what they did. I just hope that you stay the same and -”
“Oh cut the crap Marrie, you know damn well that boy had it coming. Saying that disgusting shit and then expecting not to get beat for it. I’m surprised they didn’t kill him. I know I would’ve if I wasn’t ye’ father, boy.” he snaps.
“Oh, William not now, please, I don’t want him to think he deserved that.” she begs “If you’re going to start, please leave.”
“Okay, I’ll leave,” he sneers, “But not before I tell him that I am utterly disgusted in having a son like him and I refuse to let this homo call himself my son.” he says disgusted, standing up to leave, slamming the door on his way out.
“Lawrence, don’t take what he said to heart he’s just- just unable to accept it. But he’ll come around. I promise.” she reassures. “Now you’ve got to work on getting your memories back, okay?”
Not knowing what to say I nod, like I always seem to be doing. She nods back before getting up to leave. Still confused as to what happened, I lay down ready to go back to sleep, tired from this day’s events.
‘Hahaha get em’ boys, beat his ass’ someone shouted.
I remember the feeling of my lungs burning as I ran through the bushes past Old Man Reeds farm, up the river then through it. I could still hear the sound of them screaming curses at me as they chased me through the forest. We were almost at the highway, probably a mile away, before someone grabbed onto my collar choking me from behind. I fell onto the ground coughing and wheezing as the four men surrounded me.
‘Thought ya’ could run lil’ boy huh?’ one of them said while the others laughed. ‘We gon’ teach ya’ what it means to be a fag in this town’ he sneered. They all stared at me before they started stripping me. One of them tore my shirt as the other pulled off my pants laughing as they threw them into the bushes. Before I knew it one of them was on top of me choking me as the others scratched at my legs and crushed my fingers.
They laughed even more as I started screaming begging for help, and asking them to stop. My cries seemed to only egg them on as they got more violent. They started hitting my face punching my stomach as I threw up. I don’t know long I laid there on the forest floor as these men attacked me, because before I knew it I was losing conscious. I heard them laugh as they grabbed my legs. Dragging me through the forest. Then they threw me in the river.
Before my body plunged into the water I woke up. Panting I looked around my room. No-one was there, I wasn’t in a forest, my body is okay. I am okay. I stand up and go to the bathroom to throw up. My body aches as I remember the horrific events that had occurred. I stand in the bathroom for a long time just starting at my reflection. The small scars all over my face, my throat wrapped up so tight I can’t breathe. My knees give out as I fall to the floor, wondering how I never noticed all the scars on my legs, my hands wrapped up in bandages, and my face. I almost don’t recognize myself.
My cheeks wet as tears start pouring down my face and I sob so loud my throat hurt. I start tearing at the bandages, wanting them to come off. I scream as I feel people grab at me, people staring as I was dragged out of the bathroom. I thrash around still scratching at my neck. I scream as people grab legs and arms. Holding me down, just like before. Men in white coats surround me, as the sound of people saying “Hold him down, hold him down!” gets quieter and quieter as I black out.
It’s been three months since I woke up in the hospital. I’ve learned a lot of things. Like how the men who attacked me were hired by my father, he visited me about a month after I had woken to tell me he hoped they’d killed me. Then, my parents are getting a divorce. It was a weird moment after I blacked out. The doctor said it was trauma and that I would get over it soon enough which sounds easier than it actually is. It also makes me really uncomfortable when people touch me, especially men who are older.
It was tough and I have to thank my mom for being so supportive and being there for me. When I think about it, I always wonder if things could have gone differently and maybe it would have if I wasn’t what I was. You know, a “homo”. But it is what it is, I can’t change what’s already happened and I don’t think i’ll ever get over it. And that’s okay.
