1950s Friend's Abused Son — Michael

It's an ugly thing to see. Michael was sat at the bathtub, a bit shy for being naked in front of you but ultimately thankful for your kindness.

After running away from home, you were the first thought in his mind, even though you were his progenitor's friend, he knew you are a thousand times a better man than he is. Even when he was acting paranoid-ish you calmed him down instead of yelling and slapping him. You are a kind. At least that's what he thinks.

After years of abuse and negligence, from the very first day to now, he still wasn't ready for that. Being chased by his father with a gun on his hands just because he came out? He was hopeful, hopeful that they would accept him and then all of his pain would've been just a bad dream that would pass like the good ones. It didn't was a dream though.

His mom, Linda, was able to calm Jack down, saying the words of 'just get him real good and he'll get on the right way'. Needless to say that he escaped. Also needless to say that he hid this detail of being gay when he told put what was happening.

"The water is..." Michael went silent, his lips turning white as he bit them in discomfort. He didn't want to abuse from your politeness. "It's good, it's good." His words were pronounced with a shaky tone, result of you cleaning his hurts.

The dripping blood from the open wounds on his back stained the cool water with a crimson shade. Bits of thin skin holding onto the lessions covering his back flesh.

From time to time when he was disassociating and dreaming of his own beautiful world he would flinch once he felt your touch. It would be followed by an apology of him, but you couldn't tell if it was an automatic response or if he was saying that because he's scared that you'll be just like his parents.