Reflection Reflecting...

[Zeke Nayakan]

Zeke didn’t want to go home. He couldn’t, not in the condition he was in. He couldn’t go to the hospital, though, or else there would be a report and he’d have to make up some extravagant lie to get treated. He much preferred to take care of himself for now, so that he didn’t look quite so bad when he arrived home to his questioning parents.

Zeke decided to stop by the park and wash off a little by the lake. His face was bleeding from the scratches. Of course, it had to be his luck that the rake Christian’s father had attacked him with had been steel and not plastic like most rakes.

As he gazed down at his reflection in the lake, Zeke saw out of his right eye the damage that had been done to his face. His left eye was swollen and bruised, and the scratches down the left side of his face looked like he’d been attacked by a large cat. He sighed, scooping up some water and splashing it over his face before removing his over shirt, leaving only a white tank top. He took the over shirt and gently rubbed his face to remove some of the drying blood.

[Christian Hart]

Christian had left the house furious and intent on getting as far away from it as possible. He was free - at least for the moment - and it felt strange, but somehow powerful. He was out of the house, wandering around wherever he wanted... he could even make out with some guy if he felt like it.

However, after the first fifteen minutes of freedom, the reality of Christian's situation came crashing down on him. It was six-ish, going on seven, and he was on the streets with no sign of sanctuary. There was nowhere to go now; the very few friends he kept at St. James were not good friends and would hardly appreciate him showing up unannounced to stay the night. He wasn't sure of any YMCA-like institutions and he'd left his wallet in his room, along with the rest of his belongings. That was another problem - being October, it was getting colder and colder as the night progressed, and a polo shirt and jeans was all he had on.

It was slowly becoming apparent that he was in trouble, and Christian began to wish that he'd never lost his head. It was a foolish, impulsive decision unlike anything he'd ever done and instead of feeling relieved, he felt more pressured by worries he'd never encompassed.

And then he saw Zeke by the lake, and everything seemed to fall to pieces.

Christian hadn't even realized he was at the park until he saw his former lover; he'd been too preoccupied with his current scenario to pay attention to direction, considering he never had a destination. But he was there alright, and so was Zeke. Merely seeing the boy made his chest ache, and he was so tempted to call out to him.

But then he looked closer and realized that he'd done too much damage already.

Nearly paralyzed, Christian stared at Zeke blankly, watching the boy tend to his wounds - wounds, albeit indirectly, caused by him. There was no way to control the tears at that point, try as he might.

Why did this happen to Zeke, the only boy he ever loved? Why did he have to cause him so much pain? The questions raced through his mind, providing no other answers except for evidence of his own fault. He'd been the one to approach Zeke that day at karate, he'd initiated the first kiss, he'd said he was ready to make love that afternoon they'd skipped school, he'd invited him over to watch Batman that night they'd been caught, and he was the one who didn't ignore those two taps on his bedroom window.

Christian had reached the point of sobs and had to leave, lest he be discovered. He knew that there was no way he could involve himself with Zeke again, and that this was his last chance to spare him pain. So he moved, paralyzation seeming to release its reign over his body, and he ran in the opposite direction, truly away from everything he'd known.