Ben sat at the kitchen table, listlessly eating a bowl of stale Cheerios, when the front door burst open. His father stumbled in, reeking of booze. *It’s not even noon yet,* Ben thought, glancing at the clock. “There you are you little faggot!” he screamed. Ben put down his spoon *Fuck this isn’t going to be good.* “Guess who I ran into at the pub this afternoon?” his father sneered. Ben said nothing and just stared at his bowl of Cheerios. “Answer me boy when I am talking to you!” the drunk screamed. Then he picked up a plate from the counter and threw it at him. Ben ducked and the plate shattered against the wall behind him. “What the fuck!?” he yelled. His patience for his father’s drunk antics already expended. “Don’t you talk like that to me boy” retorted the drunk “My friend Joe said he saw you last night holding a boy's hand down by the quarry. No son of mine is going to be a faggot. I’ll kill you before I let that happen!” At first rage welled up inside of Ben burning like an out of control forest fire, but then he was overwhelmed with shame. He felt like a dirty window smeared with filth — his light buried beneath years of rot and hate.  Then his father did something Ben was not expecting. He picked up a large kitchen knife sitting in the sink.  Without warning he unleashed a guttural growl and sprang towards Ben holding the knife above his head. Ben sat frozen in his chair, his face etched in horror at the grotesque hate radiating from every pore of his father who was lunging at him with a large knife. <center style="font-size: x-large">BOOM!</center> Ben's father dropped to the floor with a thud. Behind his crumpled body, a violent spray of red smeared the wall, thick and glistening as it dripped down the dirty brown pastel wallpaper. Ben spun around to see his mother holding a shotgun, smoke emanating from the barrel. “Mom!” Ben yelled as he sprang up and ran to his mother's side. For a moment she just stared at the mess — blood pooling across the tile and streaking the walls in slow, dripping ribbons of gore.  As reality sank in, a cry tore free from somewhere deep in her bruised and battered soul. She dropped the shotgun and fell to her knees sobbing and shrieking at the top of her lungs. Ben held his mother as she convulsed on the floor. Her face and neck were covered in fresh bruises and cuts and she smelled like cheap vodka. The side door flew open and slammed against the wall. Their next-door neighbor burst in, gripping a hoe like a weapon. “Ben! Veronica! Are you alright?” he bellowed as he took huge steps towards the boy clutching his distraught mother on the dining room floor. Gently he picked up the shotgun and set it on the table. When he did so he spotted the mutilated and smoking body laying on the kitchen floor. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed in shock. “Let’s get you two outside.” Wordlessly Ben stood and helped pick up his mother off the floor. “Let’s go out the living room door.” the neighbor suggested as he wiped the gore off the bottom of his shoes on the carpet. When the police arrived, Ben’s mother fainted. The EMTs took one look at her bruised face and cuts and quickly loaded her into the ambulance.  “Do you want to go with your mother?” an officer asked Ben as the EMTs loaded her into the back of the ambulance. “No… I can’t.” Ben murmured. “Okay son. It’s okay. You don’t have to go” the officer said softly.  Ben hated hospitals - the bright lights, the antiseptic stench, the echo of death in every corner. He couldn’t bear the thought of going to a place like that now. For Ben the rest of the morning passed in a blur. There were fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, coroner vans, and even a news truck. Practically the entire neighborhood was standing just on the other side of the yellow police tape fluttering in the wind. Even from across the street, Ben could hear them whispering. After the ambulance left, Ben walked to the backyard and sat on the rusty old swing set in his backyard. The swing creaked and groaned under his weight. His thoughts drifted back to the night before when he and Kevin were cuddling. Curled up on the rock, holding each other. He could still feel Kevin’s breath on his neck and feel his fingertips as they caressed his neck and back. Twelve hours ago, he’d been wrapped in Kevin’s arms. Now his dad was dead, his mother a broken wreck, and their home a crime scene. All he wanted to do was run far far away with Kevin and leave this town forever. Ben was lost in thought, swinging gently on the swing when he heard a gentle cough. Ben looked up. An officer was standing a few feet away.  She smiled softly at Ben then asked “How old are you?”  “Eighteen.” Ben lied. His birthday wasn’t for another few months. “Okay. Do you have anyone you can stay with?” the officer asked. “Yeah, I’ll give them a call and see if they can come get me.” Ben offered. The officer just nodded and walked back into the mobile home without saying another word. Ben watched the officer walk back into the house. She was young, blonde, and fit — most boys his age would have starred, would have felt something. But he didn’t. *If I were different... If I liked girls... maybe my dad would have loved me. Maybe he’d still be alive. Maybe Mom wouldn’t be a murderer.*  *This is all my fault!* A single tear rolled down Ben’s cheek and splashed onto the hard packed earth. Ben looked at the tear’s splash mark and he saw a line of ants crawling through the yard carrying small bits of leaves. A gruff voice snapped him from his trance. “Heads up. Coming out.” Ben looked up as the front door opened and two officers walked out escorting the body bag concealing his dad’s dead body to the waiting coroner’s van.  Ben stood up - it seemed like the right thing to do. Until today he had never seen a dead body.  No matter how cruel his father had been to him he had hoped one day he would sober up and the two of them could reconcile their differences. *It’s crazy of me to think that he could ever change enough for me to forgive him!* Ben fumed as the coroner wheeled the laden gurney down the street into a waiting van. Now reconciliation would never happen. He wasn’t angry at his mom for what she had done - she had most likely saved his life. Still his heart was broken both at what his mother had been forced to do and the fact that his deadbeat dad would never get a chance to clean himself up and be the father he’d always dreamed of having. The last words of his father echoed in Ben’s subconscious. *Faggot! I’ll kill you!* and he began to sob. Ben sat down on the front steps, holding his head in his hands, and stared at the ground watching the tears trickle off his nose and splash onto the dusty concrete. *Is it wrong to be gay?* He thought to himself as his eyes followed an ant carry a dead cricket across the porch before disappearing into a crack in the flooring. ![[asi-shotgunSwingAnts.jpg]] Ben was trying his best to tune out all of the commotion going on around him when he heard a stern voice say “Hey you can’t come in here! This is a crime scene.’ “But he’s my boyfriend! I need to be there with him.” A bright voice cut through the murmur of the neighbors and the chatter of police radios. *It's Kevin!* Ben looked up and saw Kevin standing there arguing with a police officer. “Kevin,” he shouted. Kevin brushed past the officer and ran to Ben. The officer grabbed Kevin’s arm and tried to drag him back behind the crime scene tape. Undeterred, Kevin threw his free arm around Ben and softly said “I’m here.” Ben began to sob as he clutched Kevin tightly. The officer shook his head slightly, released Kevin’s arm, and walked back to his post guarding the yellow tape barrier. “Let’s get you outta here,” Kevin replied, wiping the tears from Ben’s cheeks. “You can stay with us tonight.” Ben sobbed burying his face in his lover’s neck.“..and for as long as you need.” Kevin’s voice broke as he stroked his hand through Ben’s hair. The gut wrenching heartbreak he could feel in Ben’s sobs cut him to the core. *Hold it together, Kevin.* His eyes burned. *Everyone’s staring.* “My dad is waiting in the red pickup at the corner. Why don’t you head over there and I’ll talk to the police and see if I can gather up a few of your things.” Kevin said quickly as he struggled to remain strong. Then he gave Ben another long embrace. Ben just nodded before turning in shock and walking in the direction Kevin had pointed. Devin saw Ben approaching and got out of the truck. “Come here son.” he said as he stretched out his arms to give him a bear hug. Ben, who had just regained his composure, started crying and shaking all over again. The man’s kindness broke something loose inside of him. He had only met Devin a few weeks ago but this embrace - safe, warm, loving, and real was too much. The sharp juxtaposition to the horror he had just endured caused his legs to buckle and he collapsed into Devin’s arms. Devin, broad shouldered and calm, scooped up the sobbing boy as if he weighed nothing and set him gently on the truck’s bench seat. Then he reached across him and quietly snapped the seat belt around him. A moment later Kevin ran up. “I told the police where you would be staying in case they need to ask you anything. They wouldn’t let me in the house to get any of your things - they also said they'd be here at your place well into the night...” he said out of breath. Then he squeezed into the truck beside Ben and slammed the door. ### Next Chapter: [[7 - The Poet 📜]] ### Previous Chapter: [[5 - The Knoll 🌅]]