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Phil caught me up the next day as I made my way to my first class. What the hell happened last night? he demanded.
I shrugged. I'd made brief mention of my altercation on social media, but hadn't gone into too many details. My parents weren't speaking to me, but I'd been careful not to make too much mention of what had prompted the stoush. "I told Mum where to shove it when she tried telling me I wasn't taking a scholarship," I said.
Dominic whistled in admiration as he joined us. "Brave move," he said.
You know they won't let this go, Phil warned, but the admiration was clear in his eyes, and I felt my heart warm a little. 81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqIfGT9McOB
"They can try," I told both my friends, "but they won't succeed. I'm going to Principal Smiths and asking him if I can board here for the remainder of the year. My parents won't dare say boo once social services come down on them like a ton of bricks; I've got enough evidence to bury the pair of them for years."81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡACh1nYp5JC
"Don't let them get a hold of it," Dominic advised me as we entered our first class of the day.
"I've already backed it up," I said, holding up the USB I'd been carrying with me for quite some time. It was one of many I had hidden in the westernmost tower with full blessing from Principal Smiths. "I'll gather it all up and give it to Principal Smiths at lunch, and let him handle things from here. I can always get new clothes, if need be."
Phil and Dominic put their hands on my shoulders in silent understanding, and I thanked my lucky stars I had two such good friends. I just hoped we'd be able to stay together for a long while yet to come, but I already had the feeling my friends would pull out all the stops to make sure that happened.
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At lunchtime, I was dealt the first serious blow when Principal Smiths informed me I wouldn't be allowed to board at the school. "Your parents have made it quite clear they'll use the legal system to ensure you never make it to Oxford," he said, and the simmering temper in his voice made me glad he was on my side. "I told them you were well within your rights to seek emancipation, and I've made it crystal clear I'll be pulling a few strings of my own to make sure you get a chance to present your case. I know it isn't strictly protocol, but I won't have you ground into the dirt."
"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Are there any other options? I know if I go home this afternoon, my parents will make damn sure I never leave the house again."
Principal Smiths nodded his understanding. "If you're willing to let me testify on your behalf," he said, indicating the USBs I'd brought to him, "I can make a strong case for you to social services. They've got your parents on notice, and with this evidence, I can easily swing something that will allow you to guest with one of my staff for the time being until we can find more suitable accomodation for you. How does that sound?"
I nodded. "That sounds wonderful," I said. "I really appreciate it."
"I'll let you know by the end of the school day what happens," Principal Smiths assured me. "And if I get pushback, well, I can push twice as hard, and for a lot longer than anyone thinks."
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The second blow came when my parents countered my evidence, and social services had to regretfully inform Principal Smiths I wasn't allowed to guest with any staff. I knew social services were smelling a big rat, but unless they were presented with a very real threat to my safety, their hands were tied. I was fuming as I boarded the bus that afternoon, my heart sinking right to the bottom of my toes. And it sank even further when I got off the bus and saw Dad waiting for me, a loaded gun in hand. But I almost had to laugh at his stupidity; he wasn't even bothering to conceal his weapon, and though our neighbours generally kept themselves to themselves, this time, they'd chosen sense. I could see several concerned people nearby, some with phones on hand, and I blessed them as I pulled out my own phone.
"Put the phone down," Dad warned, his beady little black eyes looking like they were on fire. "You know it's not going to do you any good; social services won't lift a finger to save your sorry arse unless your life is threatened. Well, it isn't."
"You're pointing a gun at me," I said, keeping my voice steady, even though my heart was pounding like a drum. I didn't want to be seen as provoking him into shooting me. "I feel threatened right now."81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9sIiOztGu8
Dad snorted. "You're a weak shit," he said. "I've beaten the shit out of you, watched as your mum beat the shit out of you, and I've watched as she made short work of reminding you you're still 'her little boy'. I've fuckin' thrown you to the ground and stomped the shit out of your head, and I could've used it for fuckin' soccer practice if I had half a mind. I've whipped you bloody night after night, until the blood was fucking pourin' down your back and legs, and you know what? Your screams fuckin' turned me on something chronic. I was half fuckin' tempted to see what your mum thought was so fuckin' special about you, but I ain't no fag. Is that what you are? A fag? A dirty little boy who likes other dirty little boys? Is that why you've got 'friends'? How many times have you fucked 'em in the arse? Does it feel good, havin' your dick inside their tight little arseholes?"
I swallowed my revulsion. "Dad, you can be a right laff," I said, "but spouting homophobic insults isn't the way to deal with things. Just please, put the gun down, and we can talk, you, me and Mum."81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ46KiC86lep
"I'm through fuckin' talkin'," Dad snarled, raising the gun. "I'm goin' to show you what a real man does, you fuckin' hear me? I'm goin' to put a pretty little bullet through your pretty little back so you can never fuckin' walk again. Then I'm gonna have you tied up day and fuckin' night, and you'll have to fuckin' beg me to eat, and drink, and sleep. And if I don't like it, I might have to give you some encouragement. How's that sound, you dirty little swine?"
A siren chirped nearby, but I didn't dare turn my back; Dad would make good on his threats, and I didn't intend on letting my guard down for a moment. An officer soon put her hand on my shoulder. "Stay calm," she told me. "There's two more cars on the way."
I nodded, but it was hard as Dad then began degrading the officer, his talk turning truly vile as he kept the gun trained on me. To her credit, she kept her cool, though I could sense her blood was boiling as she and I endured his crass insults. Mercifully, the two promised cars rocked up, and Dad's bluster finally faltered as more officers joined the scene. "I think we should wrap this up," one of the male officers suggested. He kept his hand well away from his gun, as did his colleagues; none of them wanted to provoke Dad into shooting. "Let's lower the gun and talk about this more calmly," the spokesman added. "I'm sure you don't want to escalate things, do you?"
Mum had come out of the house by now, arms folded as she watched everything unfold. Up till now she hadn't said anything, but now she had something to say. It was short, and to the point, starting with "Fuck" and ending with "You." I was never going to find out who that was directed at; Dad finally snapped and began shooting. A bullet grazed my wrist, but I kept a tight grip on my phone despite the pain, and after that, everything descended into pure chaos.
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