Broen Boy - Prologue

Hi,

this is my first story and English is not my language, so please excuse any mistakes.

I would like to warn you, dear readers, that this is only a prologue to the main story and there is nothing sexual here because the main character is not yet an adult. But don't worry, he will be an adult in the main story.

I also want to warn you that the prologue is dark, cruel, and violent on the beginning and especially emotional. The main character didn't really have an easy life.

Moreover, I would like to point out that this story is not based on truth. I did not engage in any bad behavior or violence, it is just a figment of my imagination.

And a final warning: If you don't like violence against minors, even if they are over the age of thirteen, please do not read this prologue.

I hope you'll still like the story and wait impatiently for another parts :)

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SHAE

Okay, so i was born to my loving parents who named me Shae.

My mother, a beautiful woman, was a florist. She loved flowers, and I inherited her love for them.

My father, on the other hand, was an accident doctor and a jock. He was a little disappointed that he didn't have a son to reciprocate his love for the sport.

Sometimes, when he had a bad day, I wanted to make him happy, so I played a little football match with him in our garden.

I wasn't into sports, and to be honest, I'm not even surprised. I was skinny and too small. When I was thirteen, I was only 4 feet 9 inches tall.

I had black hair. I had green eyes and freckles on my cheeks, and of course, I wear glasses

I was a typical nerd because I loved math. I wasn't bullied, but sometimes the other students made fun of me.

So, this is me and my family. We weren't rich, but we were happy to have each other. That was until I found out I was gay. I had loving parents, so I decided to tell them. I believed that they would accept me as I am.

When I think about it today, I was so naive.

***

My parents sat quietly in the living room, waiting for me to tell them what was on my mind.

I told them I was gay. But that they didn't need to be afraid that I would change. I am still me and I will always be the same.

My mother immediately started crying and ran to me to hug me. She hugged me tightly. She was kissing the top of my head and stroking my hair.

"Don't worry sweetie. I don't care if you're gay. I'll still love you like I always did." she said and kissed my forehead.

I hugged her tightly and started crying too. I was so happy. But then... I looked on my father.

He sat quietly on the couch and stared into space. His face was cold, emotionless. As if something died inside him.

I was nervous and started to fear of him, so I hugged my mom even more. After staring into space for a moment, he slowly stood up and left for the bedroom.

Mom was still hugging me and stroking my hair. I was so happy that she accepted me. But I was worried about dad and what he would do.

After a while, he came back out of the bedroom with two suitcases and left through the front door and never came back.

Mother was very sad that father left her because of me. I blamed myself and constantly apologized to my mother for ruining her life. She told me I didn't ruin anything, that she still loves me. That she has to come to terms with the fact that we won't see my father again, but all she cares about is her son.

So, it was just the two of us living together. We were a little poorer, but we were still happy.

***

When I was fourteen, my mother died. She had cancer. She told me a few days before she died.

I cried at her funeral. Of course my father came too and cried a little too. I was somewhat glad to see him. I wanted to talk to him, but all he told me was that I had to go live with him.

He helped me move my stuff to his house, but he didn't talk to me at all. His face still had the coldness that I had seen in him the day he left.

'He must hate me' I told myself, and it was true.

Now that I was living with him, he started drinking. He was lazy and forced me to do all the work at home. Sometimes he even hit me when he was angry.

It went on like this for several months and then one evening I realized what is

REAL HELL.

It was the day I stopped living. It was the day my loving dad BROKEN ME.

One evening, father came home late. He was drunk. He was hungry, he wanted something to eat, so he forced me to cook something for him. I could barely cook, but my mom taught me something.

I cooked him a steak and fries. The steak was plain, I just salted and peppered it. It only took me a moment, and when my father came into the kitchen and sat down at the table, I brought him a plate.

He looked at it, then at me.

"Enjoy your meal." I said a looked on my feet.

He took the cutlery, cut a piece of steak, sniffed it and popped it into his mouth. But suddenly, he got red-faced.

He started coughing. I froze in place. I didn't know what was going on with him.

"Bring me water for FUCK SAKE!" he screamed on me.

I immediately grabbed a glass, poured water into it and quickly handed it to him. He quickly grabbed it and drank it all. He then placed it on the table in front of him and looked at me.

He quickly stood up and threw everything from the table to the floor with his right hand. Then he slapped me hard.

"You fucking piece of shit! Don't you know I'm allergic to pepper?!" he started yelled at me.

I raised my left hand to my face and caressed my face with tears in my eyes.

„I'm so sorry. I didn't know that, dad." I answer him. My mom never told me that he is allergic.

He grabbed my neck with both hands and squeezed it hard. I quickly grabbed both of his wrists and tried to push him away. It was hopeless. He was much taller and stronger than me. I choked and felt tears running down my face.

"Fucking faggot! Did you want to kill me?!" he again yelled.

"NO! I swear dad. PLEASE. PLEASE. I didn't know about that." then he threw me to the ground and started kicking me brutally in the stomach.

I cried and screamed in pain. I was afraid he would kill me.

I don't know how many times he kicked me. I didn't count it. I remember that after a while he walked away, and I was writhing on the floor in pain. I cried so much that I couldn't even breathe.

After a few minutes, he returned with a rope in his hand. He grabbed my hair and threw me onto the table. He turned me onto my back and painfully tied my hands behind my head to the legs of the table.

I fought with him, but to no avail.

"Leave me alone, please. Whatever you want to do, please don't do it. I'm begging you. PLEASE!" I screamed with fear and pain.

He tore my shirt off and took a rag and put it in my mouth, so I couldn't scream.

Then he went to the stove and turned it on. I looked up to see what he wanted to do. I saw him take the spoon and start heating the handle.

I was scared. I didn't understand why he was doing this. After heating the spoon, he slowly walked towards me. I saw his eyes. There was death in them. I started twitching and screaming.

Then I remember seeing little angels. I felt indescribable pain. There was the stench of rotting leather in the air as the handle of the spoon dug through my skin to the muscle above my right nipple.

It took an incredibly long time. He was burning some signs for me there.

He gave me a brand. He branded me as if I were some cattle in a pen.

„Now you remember that I'm allergic to pepper." he said calmly, as if what he just did to me was perfectly fine.

After a while of torture, I couldn't take it anymore and passed out.

I woke up in my bed. It was dark. I saw the moon shining outside. I felt a sharp pain on the right side of my chest. I remembered why. My father tortured me.

He treated my wound. He was a doctor, so he knew how. I turned on my side, my back to the window.

I quietly cried and sobbed. I tried to fall asleep and not think about what happened and what awaits me in the morning. I was broken.

A week after that incident, he bought me a steel collar. I had to wear it every time I was home. I became his slave.

When I went to school, he always took the collar off. He had a key to it, but I didn't know where he kept it.

Teachers and students noticed that I had changed. But I never said anything to anyone. My psycho-father threatened to kill me if anyone found out what he did to me.

I was so scared.

***

Three weeks have passed since that incident.

My psycho-father left for work on the night emergency. Before he left, he beat me up and ordered me to clean the whole house.

He wanted his house to shine. I was tired from all the work, but I was afraid of him, so I did what he told me.

It took me all night. It was already morning and I had to go to school soon. Today I had to write a test in mathematics, and it depended on my final grade.

But I was so tired and weak. How many times I didn't even have anything to eat. At least I took a shower and wanted to go to school.

But I noticed in the mirror that I still had my steel collar around my neck. My psycho dad hasn't come home yet. I couldn't go to school like this. If anyone notices, my psycho-father will kill me. But I needed to go to that school.

I had to wear one older and thin sweater that had a turtleneck to cover my collar. I took my school bag and left for school.

The whole day at school was difficult for me. I was very tired. I couldn't stand it and just as I was writing the math test, I fell asleep.

***

"Mommy!" I cried as I ran through the garden and tripped.

My knee was scraped and I was crying. Tears were streaming down my face and my mom noticed what had happened to me, and she immediately ran to me.

She picked me up in her arms and put my head on her chest. I was crying, and my mom tried to calm me down.

She stroked my hair, kissed the top of my head, like she always did. I felt content in her arms. I felt so safe like never before.

I loved her so much. She was so beautiful. My dad noticed us and came to find out what happened and hugged me together with my mom.

We were so happy together. I closed my eyes and fell asleep in my mother's arms. But my mom shakes my shoulder and I opened my eyes.

***

I was sitting in class and my head was on my desk. I noticed that all the students had already left. I raised my head and leaned back.

My test that I hadn't finished was lying on the table and I found my math teacher Mrs. Sheldon standing next to me. She was only thirty. I liked her very much. When I needed help with learning, she always helped me.

I looked at her face. She had a small smile and was looking at me. Her right hand rested on my left shoulder. She slowly turned to my desk and sat on it in front of me.

"Shae? What is wrong with you?" she said softly and still smiling.

"N-nothing. Why?" I said sadly and looked on my hands on my lap.

"Nothing? My best and most popular student won't give me a test and instead sleeps with his head on the desk. Are you tired?"

"A little. E-ev-everything is fine. Trust me." I said, still looking on my hands.

Then she looked at my hands. She saw that I was nervously tapping. She took my left hand and looked at it.

"Shae? What is this?" she said, and pointed on my wrists.

Oh, no! She noticed my purple bracelets. My psycho-father gave them to me when he tied me up and beat me up several times.

She got up from my desk and looked at me. She was still holding my hand.

"Stand up, Shae." she said, and I listened.

"Roll up your sweater, please."

"No." I answer her.

"Why not?"

"Because I do not want."

She put her hand on my right shoulder. I didn't look at her. My eyes were looking at my feet.

"Shae, if someone is hurting you, please tell me." she said and moved her palm from my shoulder a little lower.

I wailed. My brand still hasn't completely healed, and it still hurts and bleeds sometimes.

Her eyes widened. She immediately grabbed my sweater by the bottom and wanted to take it off. I grabbed her hands.

She looked at me and I on her. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my eyes begged her not to do it.

"Please don't." I said quietly.

"Shae, take off that sweater. I won't repeat that." she said, a little loud.

I started to cry. I slowly took off my sweater. Several ways how my psycho father would kill me went through my head.

When I undressed, she was horrified. My body was purple-red. I had bruises everywhere.

But then she noticed my brand. My brand spelled the word FAGGOT. This made me remember that dad is allergic to pepper.

She also noticed I'm a little malnourished and have a steel collar that I can't take off.

She took my sweater from my hand and put it on me. Then she grabbed my hand, took her things from the teacher's desk and dragged me away.

I didn't know what she wanted to do. She dragged me to her car and motioned for me to get in. I listened. She was taking me somewhere.

"I'll take you to the hospital. My husband is a surgeon and doctor. He will take care of you." she said.

"No! Please no! I don't want to go to the hospital. When my dad finds out, he'll kill me." I blurted out.

I was scarred.

"Wait. Did your father do this to you?" she said horrified.

I couldn't anymore. I turned and looked out the window and cried silently.

'He will kill me.' I said to myself.

My secret was out and there was nothing I could do about it.

The trip to the hospital took only a moment. Sometimes I hear that Mrs. Sheldon sobs.

She parked at the hospital. She took my hand and led me to the patient reception. Her husband must have been a very important doctor here, as the nurses immediately recognized Mrs. Sheldon. She told them that she brought an urgent case and wanted to see her husband immediately.

It was too much for me. I was so scared I couldn't even breathe. I was tired, scared, and broken.

After Mrs. Sheldon took my hand again and wanted to take me to the doctor, I passed out from exhaustion.

***

When I woke up, I didn't know where I was. I was lying somewhere, I was a little dazed and there was darkness everywhere.

I thought I was at home in the basement, where my psycho-father had locked me up and was preparing a way to kill me.

Someone grabbed my hand. I was startled and started to panic. I was crying and scared. I didn't want to die. I wept and sobbed with terror and fear of sorrow.

"Please, I don't want to die." I said panicly.

But then the light came on. I could finally see a little, but it was blurry because I didn't have my glasses on. But this wasn't dad's basement. I was a little relieved.

There was a person next to me holding my hand. I didn't know who it was. I noticed a smaller table next to my head, and there was probably a small lamp on it, which the person probably turned on.

There was a black stain under the lamp. That were my glasses. I reached out for them with my right hand because the person was holding my left. I put on my glasses and finally saw who was holding my hand.

I wished in my mind that it was my mom, who somehow came back to protect me from my father. But no.

It was Mrs. Sheldon, who had a sad smile on her face, and by the light from the lamp I could see that her eyes were shining. She was crying.

I realized that I was probably in a hospital room somewhere.

I didn't understand why she was crying. Did she care that much about me? I was grateful to her for trying to help me, but I was still afraid of my psycho-father. That he would somehow find me and kill me.

"Calm down, Shae. Everything is alright." she said softly.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You're in hospital. You passed out. My husband Michael is a doctor, and he took care of you. You have a lot of injuries. You have bruised ribs and a bruised stomach. The wound on your chest was in bad shape, as was your health, but Michael took care of it." she said.

I looked into her eyes. She must have seen my pain in them because she immediately looked away.

"Thank you." I said quietly. There was a little pause.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sheldon. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me, and please thank the doctor as well." I cried.

I was sad but a little happy at the same time.

"Listen. My husband reported this to the police. Officer are coming to talk to you tomorrow. Who did this to you, Shae? Who hurts you like this? I apologize for crying, but I feel so sorry for you. I've always liked you, Shae. And now I see the pain you must have felt the whole time I knew you. Who tortures you like this? Shae? Is your father doing this to you?" she still cried.

I cried too. Mrs. Sheldon apparently already knew everything, but she needed to hear it from me.

But if I tell her that my dad is really behind it, she'll tell the police, and they'll question him, and then he'll come get me and kill me.

But the police already know that. It probably wasn't worth keeping it a secret anymore.

"I'm scared. He's a psychopath. He threatens to kill me if anyone finds out. I'm scared, I don't want to die. Help me please." I started sobbing uncontrollably.

She stood up and sat on my left side on the bed I was lying on. She hugged me and tried to calm me down. I was a little calmer. Her hug helped me a lot. I needed this. It reminded me of my mom. I felt calmer and safer in her arms. I need someone to protect me, I can't do it alone.

"I'll help you, Shae. Do not be scared. My husband and I will take care of you." she put her hands on my cheeks and looked into my eyes.

"Okay?" she asked.

I swallowed. I could not believe it. Will they be able to protect me from my psycho-father?

I just wanted this to end. I felt weak, broken, humiliated and disfigured. I wanted my mother back, I felt safe with her. But Mrs. Sheldon's hug made me feel safe, too.

"Okay, thank you." I said.

She smiled and hugged me again and stroked my back.

"Don't worry boy. Everything will be fine."

Suddenly, more light came into the room. Someone was standing in the doorway. I got nervous and looked at Mrs. Sheldon. She didn't do anything, just smiled a little.

"Well, someone woke up." He was probably some kind of doctor.

"Shae? How are you feeling, boy?" he said.

I didn't speak. I didn't know who he was. I was suddenly afraid of people and everything around me. Mrs. Sheldon decided to speak for me.

"He is nervous, Michael. He's trembling with fear. Poor boy." she said a little sadly.

"Shae? I just want to tell you that everything will be okay. You have major injuries, that wound on your chest was in bad shape. Ruby brought you just in time. You would have already had surgery if you had come a day or two later. The nurses took pictures of your bruised body, so the police would have evidence." he said with a small smile.

Mrs. Sheldon yawned. She must have been here with me the whole time.

"Honey, you can go home. Shae can handle it here, and if he has a problem, he has an emergency button here." he said to his wife.

"No, Please don't." I panicked.

I wanted Mrs. Sheldon to stay. She was the only one who gave me a sense of safety.

"I see there's a couch here. I'll sleep on it, Michael." she said.

"Are you sure, honey?"

"Yes. Looks like Shae needs me."

"You know you have to go to work in the morning. You need to get a good night's sleep."

"I know, honey, but I'll sleep here anyway." she said firmly.

"As you wish, darling. I'll get you some pillow and blanket."

"Thank you." she said with a smile.

Mr. Sheldon left. Mrs. Sheldon looked at me. My eyes were red from crying. She smiled and caressed my right cheek.

"Is it a little better now?"

"Yeah, a little bit." I said quietly.