dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on Mar 14, 2013 22:23:56 GMT -5
Dixon was sick of just always having to stay strong for everyone, he hated having to bite his tongue when someone made a crude comment to him because he knew that arguing was stupid because he would never truly win. Other people had no fear, they didn’t care about the people that they hurt when they said the things that they said, but Dixon did. He always seemed to feel bad when he upset someone, regardless of the fact that not even a few minutes later they could insult him and say something even worse, even more hurtful than he did. Dixon was skinny, and weak, sure he could dance but dancing was going to help him win a fight and growing up he didn’t have any siblings so he never had the chance to rough house at home. His father was useless when it came to that, he worked all the time so he was often stuck at home with his mother and when at home with her they were normally baking. When he told his parents he was gay his mother even blamed herself in the beginning, saying that she was to doting when he was a child. Claiming that perhaps if things were different their son might have been straight, his parents really were as stupid as they come and now they were basically just dead to him.
He hadn’t heard from them since he had left the house when he was fourteen, and he really didn’t even think that he wanted to after all the shit they had put him through all his life. They always seemed to be fighting, about stupid things too and they made it seem like he couldn’t see and hear them. It was almost as if he didn’t even exist when it came to them and their fighting and he just hated when they would fight, he would try to block out the sounds but it was always so hard to do so. He could cover his ears all he wanted but it didn’t do any good, and sometimes he wondered just what they could possibly be doing right now and he always had it in his head that now they were probably divorced. He knew that it was going to happen someday, they had no reason to stay together anyway, he was certain his dad was cheating on his mom because he always smelled like cheap perfume a whore would wear but he never bothered to mention. It was too late to mention it now anyway, he had wished he had mentioned it the night he had been kicked out but it never crossed his mind because really he just didn’t even seem to care. A part of him wanted his mom to figure out the hard way, his dad was really just a manwhore and he would always be one, oops right.
The thought of that made him want to laugh, they called themselves good Christians but he knew for the fact they weren’t and he viewed this fact daily when he had been at home and just bit his tongue. Now he just seemed to curse them all the time so many thoughts in his mind, so many things he just wished that he could say to his parents but never did. He wanted to expose them as the horrible Christians they really were, broadcast the real them to the entire world but he didn’t because he was a good son. He just happened to be a good son with really horrible parents, sure his parents weren’t like those parents who would neglect him or hit him but they might of well had the day they had kicked him out. They just couldn’t have a gay son and that was their only explanation of anything that was happening that day, and Dixon had packed up his stuff and left. He stayed with a friend for about a year, he lived in his basement and it was pretty nice there before he went to live with another friend and in the end ended up living with his horrible boyfriend in an apartment where they could hardly pay rent each month.
Most of the money they had was put into Dixon’s boyfriends drinking pocket and Dixon was only given money for food and other things the house would need, beyond that the money that he would make at work was taken from him and he was basically broke. He was never given money for lunch, dinner if he worked later, or even just for a few extra things because his boyfriend always had it in his head that he would run the first chance that he got and a way that wasn’t far from the truth because Dixon really did just want to run sometimes and he knew that if he planned it out well enough he might be able to for at least a little while and that enough was enough for him. Even being free for a week was good for him, because he hadn’t felt free in a really long time and he hated it. He felt like a prisoner in his own home and his only escape was basically when he had work or when his boyfriend was out cold or just not home and those were the days that Dixon liked best. He could have a few hours where he didn’t have to listen to everything he said and he could just write or even paint for a change, both things he normally had to keep hidden. No one really knew that he painted or that he wrote, he was known for being a dance teacher on top of working at a diner and that was about it.
He wrote all the time though, normally poems and short stories and in high school he had dreamed about being a Literature teacher someday but decided against it his senior year of high school. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart, it was just that things didn’t go his way and he wasn’t really able to go to college and so he was stuck at the diner till perhaps the day that he died. He hated the thought of that, the thought of always having to work in the diner for hardly any pay and not being able to keep any of it anyway. He was a hard worker, and each dollar he earned he worked his butt off to get and sometimes it really didn’t seem fair to him that he didn’t even get to keep it and once he had confronted his boyfriend on it and it really didn’t end well for him. His boyfriend of course beat him, saying that if he even thought about giving him money he could possibly leave and he just couldn’t have that now could he so he was not to ask for money again and he didn’t. He knew the consequences of all of his actions now and he knew just what would happen if he did the wrong thing and he just didn’t want these kinds of things to happen. He just couldn’t have these things happen, he was terrified.
He would stay up at night thinking about all the things that could happen to him, wondering just why his boyfriend hadn’t done him in yet. The way that he always saw it he really didn’t need him around, all Dixon really did for him was cook and clean and he was sure that he would be able to find someone else to do that for him if he looked hard enough. There were plenty of people who could cook and clean, and all his boyfriend ever did was call him worthless and a waste of space. If he was such a waste of space though why did his boyfriend even keep him around, he could just kill him and that could be the end of it and in a way he was sure that dying was a lot better than going through everything he went through in the course of a day because he really did have to go through a lot and it really just sucked the way things seemed to work out. He did try his best to deal with it, act like he didn’t care but in the end he really did care and he knew that deep down he always would care and there was nothing he could do to change that.
He would continue to cry when no one was around, because that was the thing he always did. That was the way his life always went, he was strong when people were around but the minute the door was closed he just couldn’t be strong anymore and really he was getting sick of being so strong. He hated the fact that Sterling was the only one that knew about the abuse but he knew that he was the only one that he could really trust when it came to this situation, he didn’t know many people and the people that he did know just really couldn’t seem to keep a secret because they were the kind of people to gossip and knowing this news he just knew they would have a field day so Sterling really was the only person he could talk to and he was really glad to have him. He knew that there was no way he would be able to handle all of this without him, because he had someone to turn to now when things became hard to handle and they often did. Often times he just felt so alone, because no one really paid but attention to him and now that someone did he was actually really happy because at least one person cared. It was a really good feeling to have someone around that wanted to be around him, someone that wasn’t annoyed with him or just hated him like everyone else did because those people just didn’t make him feel any better about his self, in fact it just made him feel so much worse.
He hated feeling this way, he really did because he didn’t deserve to feel that way and he knew that. He knew that he deserved to be happy for a change, because he really did work hard in everything that he did and he hardly got anything in return. He was the type of person who would take extra shifts for someone when they weren’t able to go into work, he was the type of person to always ask how someone was, or he would treat everyone he met kindly and he never got that same kindness back. When he couldn’t go into work, because he was far too sick or hurt, no one would cover for him because it just seemed like no one seemed to care. He never called off, so when he did it really was serious and not something to joke about or question and yet people did. He could come into work limping and slower than normal and he would still be yelled at for it, and he figured it was basically due to the fact that he was gay. He never did get the respect that the other workers did, he would be yelled at constantly and hardly ever had anytime off because there always seemed to just be more hours available for him to work. He didn’t even get the holiday off, not that he minded because he didn’t get anything for the holidays from anyone anyway and his boyfriend just left him home alone while he left for a whole week. He liked to call it the best week of his life, he just slept every chance he had.
Dixon was kind to everyone, he just couldn’t seem to see it in his heart to be mean to people because that just wasn’t the way that he was raised. He had been raised to be nice to people, and he would be even in they weren’t nice to him because it just made him feel better when he was nice. He was one of the people that just didn’t have a mean bone in his body and he really wasn’t afraid to really admit it either because he knew that it was true, sometimes he really could almost be too nice. He knew that he could easily get hurt this way too, being too nice but he really didn’t know how to change just yet and he would work on it. With the cigarette now in his one hand and his other hand free he just lit it up quickly and let the nicotine try and calm him down the last of his tears making their way down his face, his heart was practically beating out of his chest his hands slightly shaking. His breaths were slowly starting to slow down, “I just don’t know how much more I can take. I am only human” he wished let the smoke from the cigarette escape his lips.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on Mar 17, 2013 1:33:39 GMT -5
Sterling bit his lip, now that he had released Dixon's hand he wanted the contact back again, though he wasn't sure how else to initiate it. He had never really known what to do in that regard, he was never one for contact. He always preferred to keep a healthy amount of distance between other people and himself. Sterling blamed it on not really having affectionate parents. They weren't neglectful or abusive, but they hadn't exactly been doting, either. He hadn't gotten many hugs, encouraging hands on the shoulder, or kisses on the cheek or forehead. His parents had talked to him, but hardly ever laid hand on him.
As such, he felt that his lack of exposure was the reasoning for him not liking touch all that much. Though Sterling also felt the need to keep everyone at a distance, not just emotionally, but physically as well. He knew that when the physical boundaries were broken down, the mental ones would be soon to follow, and he was not keen on letting anyone past his psychological barriers. So Sterling kept an almost mandatory distance from other people, the only time he had ever shown any physical affection willingly was when he had a girlfriend for the sake of covering his tracks.
He simply felt that that was what couples were supposed to do, be all over each other all over the time. It was as if he wanted to broadcast that he was the straightest person in existence, as if he wanted to proclaim "look at me an how very not gay I am!" It was sickeningly fake, and Sterling hated doing it, but he knew people would question if he didn't do those sorts of things. So it'd just be better for the sake of keeping up with his act if he did things that he didn't really want to do. He'd go on dates, pick up some random girl on his motorcycle, spend money that he didn't really have to impress some girl that he had never really wanted.
And he would do the whole making-out, constant physical affection sort of thing. Sterling didn't really like it, it felt all wrong with a woman under his arm, he saw no appeal in a feminine form, or even a face. Curves could never capture his interest, neither could long hair nor anything else typically considered to be a feminine feature. Sterling did at least try to make the whole dating thing easier, typically opting for girls that weren't quite so feminine- the ones with boyish figures and cropped hair, or at the very least the kinds that would rather walk around in jeans and a hoody with their hair tied back, rather than being all dolled up in heels, jewelry, makeup, and a dress.
Sometimes, it was easier to pretend with a girl who just acted like one of the guys. Though he did draw the line at one point- that being actually taking any of the cover girls to bed. Sterling refused to sleep with any of them, the idea was not at all enticing, it was almost nauseating, even. And while he might project some sort of swaggering, jerk of a personality, the type that most would expect to sleep with any girl that stayed still long enough, but even if he could have his preferred gender he didn't think that he would ever be promiscuous in any sense of the word.
Sterling wondered if it was perhaps his uptight religious upbringing still having an influence over him, but he viewed sex as something that should be, well, special. Not casually thrown about because it felt good or was fun, but something that should be kept between two people in a serious, committed relationship, preferably marriage. Sterling knew that it was incredibly old-fashioned, and almost impractical in modern society where it seemed to be a point of mockery to be a virgin, but it was simply how he felt on the matter. Maybe it was idealistic thinking, but he found the idea almost romantic in a sense.
It wasn't something that happened often, that much he knew, but he was willing to save himself for the right person until precisely the right moment. Sterling shifted a little in his spot on the bench, running a hand through his hair, trying to keep himself calm. It was hard for him to see Dixon in this sort of state, all he wanted to do was be able to take the pain away, be able to make his only friend in the world safe and comfortable, but he couldn't do it. That was perhaps what killed him most of all, being in this place of utter helplessness, unable to help even himself and the situation that he was in, let alone someone who needed help more than he did.
Sterling's situation might not be ideal, he might detest his parents, he might have to lie to himself and everyone else about who he really was on a daily basis, but at least he was safe. He didn't have to fear for his life- he didn't need to be conscious of everything that he said, or else be beaten. He didn't get yelled at for trivial details, and while most of his paycheck was sucked away into a savings account he wasn't allowed to touch, it at least was not wasted on fueling his significant other's alcohol addiction, which would serve only to further fuel the abuse...
It was a vicious cycle that was not Sterling's problem, though at times he wished that it was. If anyone should have to deal with something like that, it shouldn't be Dixon. The blonde was so kind and selfless, and had never done anything to deserve a moment of ill treatment. Sterling, on the other hand, felt that he could sometimes be an almost despicable human being. All the bullying he had done, how mean he could be, how perpetually grumpy he was, how much he lied... If anyone should have to deal with being hit on a daily basis, being degraded and taken advantage of, it should probably be himself.
Dixon should be able to be free from that hell. He thought vaguely on a line from the movie listed on his name tag as his favourite- The Shawshank Redemption- a part near the end where Morgan Freeman's character was doing a narrative about missing his friend. Saying something about it being a sin to keep some birds locked up because their feathers were too bright. Sterling almost felt the same way about his only friend in the world, he was such a wonderful person, it was heartbreaking to know how poorly he was treated. Not just in regards to the abuse, but by everyone else.
Sterling knew that Dixon was simply too nice to stop people from walking all over him, couldn't stand up for himself when others berated him. It made his stomach knot and made him clench his jaw from anger when he thought about anyone else being mean to Dixon. How could they all be so blind? Couldn't they see that he had a hard enough time already? Didn't they notice how skittish the poor boy was- that he always wore long sleeves and hardly ever looked anyone in the eye? Couldn't anyone other than himself see that the poor thing needed help? Apparently not, and it made him seethe with rage.
Though Sterling channeled that feeling the best that he could into trying to find a way to help, he was actively searching for a second job, one that would hopefully pay better than minimum wage, and give him enough hours to get a sizable savings quickly. Maybe if he had the hard cash he could get an apartment all on his own without needing to get a parent or someone similar to co-sign. Sterling was new to talks of deposits, credit history, and anything bank-related, but he was trying to learn, he needed to. If he was ever going to stand a chance of surviving on his own, he needed to figure it out.
Perhaps he might be able to find a way to help Dixon keep his money- something about money going directly into his bank account on payday... The blonde's boyfriend was likely too much of a drunkard to notice when the checks stopped coming, then at least his friend might be able to keep the money that he rightfully earned. What was that called again? Direct deposit- wasn't it? Sterling almost wanted to blurt out the idea, but something told him that this might not be the best time. He might not be the most intelligent individual, but he did have at least some amount of intuition, of knowing when was and when was not the most ideal time to say something.
Right now, Sterling needed to be of comfort to his best friend, not try and scheme with him. He knew even suggesting going behind that terrible man's back would only make Dixon upset, he needed to wait for a time where he wasn't already emotionally compromised. Sterling hated that he needed to scheme about when to implement his scheme, he shouldn't have to do something like that, but he was very finely tuned to how Dixon acted and reacted to things, and he knew now was not a good time. Now, the boy needed to let his tears out, and have someone listen and offer what they could.
In Sterling's case, all he had to offer was his shoulder to cry on, and today he had the single cigarette that his coworker had slipped into his pocket after the incident with one of the managers. Honestly, he had probably needed the smoke right in that moment, but he had already had his break, and by the time he had gotten off work all he could think about was getting as far away from that place as possible, and after getting all the way to the park he had calmed enough to forget about his craving. Though the smell as Dixon used his recently freed hand to light up was enough to spark his want again.
The aroma was enticing, even if he wasn't a fan of Marlboro, he had gone so long without a smoke that at this point he probably wouldn't be able to tell one brand from the next. At this point, a cigarette was a cigarette. Sterling settled simply for being able to breathe in the second hand smoke, though it wasn't nearly enough. He might just have to break down and use the crumpled five that was hastily stuffed into his pocket and get himself a pack of something for the sake of sanity. Sterling knew how to budget them, he could extend the life of a pack of cigarettes for two weeks if need be.
If he had it his way, he'd probably do a pack a day, he loved the act of lighting up, the way the nicotine made him feel, the instant soothing that he got from his cigarettes were unrivaled by anything else. Granted, his parents might skin him alive if they found the evidence, and he was vaguely surprised that they hadn't. Though they did seem to turn a blind eye, and in some cases, an ear for some things. Sterling knew for a fact that his older brother and his fiancee weren't pure- he had heard, and been thoroughly disgusted by, the sound of his brother's bed creaking, and the carnal grunts and moans- Sawyer's bedroom bordered his own, and the walls weren't exactly thick...
Though Sterling had found the screams of "oh God" almost ironic... Sterling tried not to pull a face at the memory, and instead slipped his arm around Dixon's shoulders. He felt a little uneasy about the gesture at first, though the longer he let it lay there, the more sure he felt about it. He had needed the contact. "I know, this is a lot for anyone to handle, and I hate that it has to be you," Sterling said, he could feel his throat tightening and a certain dampness coming to his eyes. He impatiently blinked back his wave of tears, now was not the time for him to show his own weakness.
He took a deep breath, both for the purpose of stopping tears before they formed and to suck in more of the second-hand nicotine, it was only slightly dulling his furiously humming brain... "I will get you out," said Sterling, "that's a promise."
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on Mar 24, 2013 13:43:09 GMT -5
Growing up Dixon was lucky if his parents even looked at him most days, he was always a strange child apparently since he was always the one to think differently than other people and was just always that person who saw the good in everyone. His parents would always judge people for what seemed to be no reason, they would say people were bad Christians and they deserved to be looked down upon. They always acted so stuck up, almost like they were of a higher class than everyone else even when he knew that they weren’t even close. His father was a boring Math teacher at one of the local High Schools and his mother was a nurse, really they were a middle class family at best. Dixon had always been the type of person to smile and say hello to everyone, his parents would always scoff and drag him along when someone would want to stop and chat. He never understood why his parents thought some people were different from them, and he despised when they would spot a gay or lesbian couple or someone who was gay or lesbian in general because the things they would say was just awful. He never understood how they could be so nice to some people but then so rude to an entire group of people, and it was even harder when he realized he was one of those people they hated.
Before he had come to figure out that he was gay, he was never one to follow his parents in their act of hating on people that just seemed different from them. He just thought it was wrong and every time he tried to voice that opinion he was called a silly stupid boy, and when he told his parents he was gay he didn’t even expect them to accept him. Honestly a part of him was actually glad that he was out of his house, his parents were so nice to other people but behind closed doors they were as fake as could be and he just couldn’t stand it. The things they would do and the things they would say about people, it was just awful and he wanted them to know that. He told them that right before he left that day, he told them that this wouldn’t make any difference to who he was and to who they were. They could say they had no son that he was gone now but they always would and Dixon would always be gay and it was hilarious almost, it was something they couldn’t escape from even in they tried and their perfect family they thought that they always had just wasn’t as perfect. What was perfect anyway? He always seemed to ask himself that, because in his head there was truly no family that was perfect and his family was even far from perfect because his parents always fought and he was certain they thought he never listened.
His parents could sometimes really be so stupid, they would sit in the room and just fight when Dixon was in the other room and the minute he would walk in they would stop and everything would be all perfect again. His family was so fake and really no one could even see it, no one could see behind their sugar sweet smiles and their words but him. He knew that if he was still with them he would have snapped ages ago, he was better off being homeless or with his boyfriend than being stuck with them. He could handle being beaten and abused but he just couldn’t stand his parents, his parents were just enough to make him sick to his stomach, even thinking about them made him want to vomit. Even since leaving he had only really seen them once while he was working, and they didn’t even bother to look at him and he didn’t even care. He went along his way and just waited tables and spoke to a few people that came there often, only very few people had a problem with him serving them because so many people just didn’t care as long as he did his job right. Dixon always did his job right, he was a good worker and he had to be if he wanted to keep his job. Sure he was yelled at a little more than the other workers, but he had learned to deal with that now because it had been a while now and his job was far more important than his whining. The hardest part was probably the fact that he never got to keep the money that he worked so hard to get, he would deal with all the people who would look down on him or the people who just seemed to hate him and he did it with a smile. There were so many days when he just wanted to go and punch someone in the face but he never would, he just wasn’t the type and he knew in a fight he would always lose. He tried to fight back in the beginning, when his boyfriend beat him but that always led to things only being worse. He would be beaten unconscious because he was just so much weaker than his boyfriend who was just so much bigger than him and stronger than him and it sucked. It really put Dixon in a tight spot because he had to realize that there really wasn’t much he could do to stop this right now because he was just really stuck almost, he really seemed like a caged animal and he hated that. He hated feeling so helpless all the time but he knew that there wasn’t much he could do at this time if he didn’t want to just go and get killed. He had to decide was more important to him, fighting back or his own life and his life was always what won. He just had to fight through it all just too really stay alive even when it was hard.
People that did know about Dixon’s problem always told him that he didn’t deserve it, just what was happening to him because he was such a nice person and sure he was never one to say anything really mean to people but he was just like everyone else. He had his opinions and his views of things, he would judge other people for things they would do and he knew that sometimes he could even be a little mean so he sometimes really did feel like he deserved just what his boyfriend did to him. It was wrong to just go and judge people the way that he always did, it was wrong to have such opinions of people but he still did and he just couldn’t understand why people thought he was so nice. He could be and he knew that, he would never say something cruel to someone’s face and he was always eager to help but he was still human. He was no saint and he was very far from one, he wasn’t perfect or that wonderful person people seemed to always think that he was. He was just Dixon and that was all he could ever be, he was just Dixon and he would always be just Dixon and he couldn’t just change. He hated when so many people just wanted him to change all the time, didn’t they know he just couldn’t change.
He was also always the type of person that always let people walk all over him, if someone asked him to do something he would never ask questions and he never said no. He always helped people out and he knew that no one would really bother to help him out when he needed it, because no one else really cared. When he had broken his ankle no one wanted to go out and help him, he had been out of work for over a month and no one bothered to ask if he was alright and he had nearly even lost his job. He hated it, the same people he would always work for when they needed a day off, or when they were going through a hard time he would ask if they were alright. These were the same people that would just turn aside when he was having a bad day, the same people that really just didn’t care if he just needed a day off and he never asked for a day off because anything was better than being at home. Anything was better than having to deal with his boyfriend more than he actually had too, because really the guy was just a douche and it was a surprise that he could actually stand him at all anymore, and really it was hard each and every day.
Dixon had trouble just getting through his day without breaking down, he would bite his lip on the verge of tears when people would whisper and just treat him like shit. He would come home and just want a minute to his self but he would never have that because once he got home he had to tend to whatever his boyfriend wanted to do, sometimes it was a surprise he had time to eat, sleep, and even shower before he had to go and do whatever else he had to do right away. It was exhausting and just so hard for him to handle, and sometimes it was just so surprising that he was able to handle it all and not go and kill his self or something. He liked to believe that strength he had might be what could push him to be free in the end, to really leave and never look back, but that would take some time and he knew that. He wasn’t ready yet, he didn’t have any money to even think about a place to live and he wasn’t ready mentally and emotionally either. He knew that the very thought of leaving even though it was a really good idea it was just so far from his reach, and he was terrified that if he didn’t get his head in the game soon it just wouldn’t end well.
The nicotine was just what he needed right now, his hands were shaking and he just looked awful his eyes red and puffy from all his tears and he just hated crying. Growing up he hardly ever cried so it was almost funny to see that he was crying now, as if he didn’t care just who seemed to see him in this moment because he was just too tired of caring all the time and he just wanted to have his moment of weakness because he really felt that he deserved it. He deserved his chance to just be weak for once when he always tried to be so strong and just tell everyone he was fine, he always seemed to wear his mask so well and it was so silly and stupid to do so. He knew that he had the right to show his emotions, he was only human after all but he just didn’t want people to ask questions and he didn’t want to ever have to try and explain his self to anyone. No one cared to hear about his thoughts and feelings much anyway, Sterling was really the only person who actually paid any attention to him and for that alone he was really grateful. It made him realize that perhaps he wasn’t as alone as he would always feel; there was still someone around who would be there for him.
He really valued Sterling’s friendship, something he was certain that if it wasn’t for his best friend he wouldn’t have any reason to still be alive because his life just really sucked and that was about it. He hated waking up in the morning sometimes having to deal with everything that happened throughout his day and he honestly looked forward to talking to Sterling because he at least made him forget things for a little while. When Sterling slipped his arm around Dixon’s shoulder he sighed, trying really hard not to lay his head on his shoulder or anything which was something he would do when he was upset. “I ask myself why all the time, I try to hide my emotions so no one asks questions but then I realize no one would ask them anyway even if I did cry in front of them. You are really the only person that actually seems to care about me” he whispered it looking down wiping his eyes with his free hand. “I know for a fact if we weren’t friends I wouldn’t be here anymore, I would have killed myself because this is just so hard to take sometimes” he said quietly with a really small sigh. “Just really thank you for being my friend Sterling, I don’t know what I would do without you. Without that one person in my life that I can always turn to, too make me feel better and just make my day less sucky” he said really quietly.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on Mar 25, 2013 0:44:02 GMT -5
Sterling felt almost panicky, all the worry building up within him made his stomach knot unpleasantly, he didn't know what to do with himself, and he was normally so sure of his actions... It was foreign to say the least, he had never been in this sort of a position. Something of this severity, knowing that someone's life may hang in the balance. Sterling had needed to stop himself several times over from calling the police, he felt like he should, but he knew that would only get his best friend out of the frying pan and into the fire. Dixon had nowhere else to go, and Sterling couldn't provide for him.
Oftentimes on the nights where he laid awake both worrying about Dixon and scheming ways to save him from the hell that he was in, Sterling wondered if he were smarter if he might have been able to figure something out by now. He knew he was nowhere near the sharpest tool in the shed, he had always been a little dim, he had to work harder than most people to figure things out. Over the years he had gotten much brighter socially, knew how to conduct himself and lie without raising any suspicions, but that was different. He was no strategist for something like this, and definitely not an academic.
In elementary school there had been worries of if he was mildly retarded, which he supposed hadn't been entirely unfounded. Sterling hadn't learned to read properly until he was almost nine, hadn't been able to focus on anything for longer than fifteen seconds, and he had been one of those poor kids who needed to use their fingers for more than simple math- it had taken him years to memorize simple, single-digit addition- multiplication, division, and subtraction went straight over his head and he sort of shut down, and would spend the rest of the class period squirming in his chair and chewing on his pencil.
His younger self had simply wanted to either go to gym class or recess, or sometimes art class because he was allowed to do things with his hands like mould clay or finger paint. Sterling had been subjected to a great many exam by his worried parents and concerned teachers, trying to unearth whatever shred of intelligence that he may be in possession of, but he had failed those as well. Sterling simply hadn't understood what they had wanted him to do, and reading and math were difficult, they turned his brain into mush and all the letters and numbers turned to a muddled mess in his head.
Sterling had even been put in the special education class for a time, only passing each grade because of No Child Left Behind, in spite of how much he struggled, how hard it was for him to stay focused, he'd been dragged along with the same class. The special ed stint hadn't lasted for long when they discovered that neither cognitively nor socially impaired, and his parents were simply left with the impression that their son was just stupid. For Sterling, stupid had been easier to deal with than stunted, he was normal, he just wasn't smart or even average like the other kids were.
It wasn't until seventh grade when he had had a wise, experience-seasoned teacher that he was tested for learning disabilities. He remembered said teacher vividly, she had been a middle-aged English teacher with kind hazel eyes, slight crow's feet and lines at the corners of her mouth, and a tuft of grey hair at each temple, breaking up her dark brown hair that was in a severe pixie cut. Her name was Mrs. Grant, and it was if she had recognized his struggle at once, it was definitely a change. She had treated him like an actual human being rather than some stupid kid who needed pity.
She had gone out of her way to help him, and been the one to recommend him for testing. It was that year when he was finally diagnosed with having both dyslexia and dyscalculia- which was essentially a cousin of his first learning disability, but with numbers and math rather than words. Mrs. Grant had been his favourite teacher, she had spent painstaking hours with him one-on-one, making sure he understood what she was trying to teach. She had even gone so far as to help him with homework that his other, less charitable teachers, had assigned him.
He had gotten a B in her class by the end of the year, and that was unheard of for someone like him, who was used to failing everything or just barely passing because people pitied him. Sterling had even tentatively begun to like school when he was under her wing, it had never been easy, but it was like he had had an ally on his side. Of course, all the progress Mrs. Grant had helped him make in that regard had immediately gone out the window when he passed on to eighth grade- she had moved to a different school, and he had been left to fend for himself again.
Lord knew that his parents had never really been much help, his mother was a mindless sheep and quite dim, but in a different way than himself. He tried, but she had simply given up. She didn't even have his learning barriers, she just didn't try, she might have memorized the entirety of the bible and all the sermons the church had posted in the form of mediocre-quality podcasts, there wasn't an ounce of practical knowledge in her head. Honestly, it was a wonder that the woman hadn't gotten herself killed by now. And his father... Well, he had never really had much patience for that sort of thing.
The man wasn't harsh, he definitely wasn't a disciplinarian, but he didn't have an ounce of patience in him. And Sterling had been the kind of person who needed hours for homework that might take someone else thirty minutes at the most. Reading a chapter of a book for English would take two hours, sometimes even three if he actually had to remember anything about what he had read. Though by the time Sterling had hit high school, he had simply stopped giving a damn about school or even trying to keep up. He had stopped doing his homework, had started cutting classes- enough so the the point where he only hung around long enough to avoid a call home to his parents.
He had stopped caring. And he had been struggling just as much socially, freshman year of high school was when he had figured out that he was gay, and he had suffered a bit of an identity crisis when he had figured out that he was the sort of person he had been brought up to hate and spite. Sterling had never been the extreme that his parents were, but he had been intolerant and cruel all the same. Especially so when he figured out that he was gay, he couldn't let anyone know that he would rather kiss a fellow man, so he had obtained an even more hardened, intolerant exterior.
He had, admittedly, been a bit of an asshole, he had been verbally abusive to his openly gay peers, but never to Dixon. Sterling wasn't sure how they had even become friends, but it was as if they understood each other, the connection had been almost instantaneous. The blonde boy was the only one who ever got to see the real him. Everyone else saw the mean Sterling, the intolerant, oddly silent, social recluse who seemed to hate everyone. Really, the boy had a heart of gold, he would do anything for a friend in need, anything in his power, he'd give all he had if need be.
Here Sterling was, willingly giving up his only cigarette, being the one to listen to poor Dixon when nobody else would, and contemplating sacrificing all his time into however many jobs he could cram into his schedule in order to afford an apartment for them to be together in, to keep him safe... No, Sterling was beyond the point of contemplating, he was in the phase of planning where exactly he was going to get said positions, and how he could juggle two, possibly three jobs at the same time, manage to fit them all into his schedule and still manage a few hours sleep in a night.
Just thinking about it was exhaustive, and he was none too good at planning, he needed to be able to physically see how it would work. He actually kept a planner in which he wrote down his shifts for the week, appointments, and anything else he needed to remember because he couldn't possibly be expected to keep everything straight in his head, that was almost too much to ask. Though he did stand a chance if he wrote it down, and sometimes even then he had a tendency to let things slip his mind, never on purpose, but he simply wasn't good at remembering dates and times.
Half the time he couldn't recall his brother's or his father's birthday. His mother's stuck easily, mostly because she would never allow anyone to forget that the world revolved around her every October nineteenth, she started breathing down everyone's neck about her day around the beginning of August, when there was still more than enough time. But really, Sterling figured that if Slater, Sawyer, or his father did something similar to that he might not have such a hard time remembering when their anniversary of their coming into existence.
Call him cynical, though Sterling didn't see much point in celebrating birthdays anymore, it just meant that they were one year closer to death, they had been granted one more year to suffer through terrible things. Sure, there were positives to life, but Sterling was most definitely a pessimist, he felt it was unrealistic to be hopeful and chipper all the time, even his true personality didn't show much optimism. The only thin he had left to hope for was that one day he would be able to provide a safe haven for Dixon, that he wouldn't have to suffer at the hands of his terrible boyfriend anymore.
That was what kept whatever trivial amount of hope that he had alive, the idea that he might be able to save his best friend from such a terrible fate. Sterling lightly bit his lip, glad at the very least that the blonde had not rejected the arm he had put cautiously around his shoulders. Sterling hadn't been sure if it was the right move, didn't know how Dixon would react to something like that, he just wanted to be of some comfort to the young man who couldn't get it anywhere else. The last thing he wanted to do was generate some sort of negative response. Dixon's life was difficult enough already, he didn't need Sterling making it worse.
Hence why he kept the ideas of direct deposit or even up and running away from Lipton altogether to himself. He knew they were foolish. Sterling looked over at Dixon as he spoke, and as always was quiet, allowing his friend to get out all of his words before saying anything. His friend's words were touching, they added new fuel to the raging fire that was his cocktail of unpleasant emotions, only serving to make them stronger. He was stuck, but he needed to help, needed to do something more worthwhile than simply being the shoulder to cry on and the hand to offer a cigarette when he had one, something that would actually make a change.
The tears which Sterling had forced back were now returning with a vengeance, try as he might to beat them back into submission. He hated being weak anyway, but he especially detested it now, when he needed to be strong for someone else. But this time he couldn't fight them all back, and a few managed to get past his eyelids. Sterling impatiently brushed them away, he couldn't allow Dixon to see him weak. Was he really the only reason that the blonde boy was still alive? He couldn't stand the thought of his best friend giving up in the worst possible way and killing himself...
Now he felt that the situation really was more dire, he needed to move more quickly to get the blonde out of there, get him safe, make him happy. It then struck Sterling that this was perhaps the most important goal of his life, no single person or thing had ever gotten this much of his attention. Sterling blinked forcefully a few times to clear the rest of his tears from his vision. He wasn't allowed to cry, not right now. "You're my best friend in the world, I'll do anything that I can to help," said Sterling, though he couldn't look Dixon in the eye, not when he was still grappling with his tears, "just promise me you'll hold on. I honestly don't know if I could live without you."
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on Mar 29, 2013 10:38:46 GMT -5
Dixon knew that he was in such a tough spot, each day seemed to be getting harder for him to take and sometimes he just didn’t even know just how he did it. He would wake up in the morning; go to work where he would deal with the names and the whispers because it was always so much better than being at home. He could deal with his boss calling him a faggot, because he really was use to it by now. It was a name he had all throughout high school and being out of high school did nothing to change that, in fact it only seemed to bring him into a new world of dangers. At least when he was a kid he only had to handle it till the weekend, each day was either better or harder than the last and many days he had gone home and cried his self to sleep but he did it. He had graduated college with pretty decent grades, even though he had skipped school a lot to try and just escape all the bullying. Due to that he had graduated a year later than he planned, he had to obtain his needed credits before he could even think about walking across the stage and failing two classes he obviously had to go back and take them. The day he graduated had been a good day for him, he had left and never looked back on his past he really just didn’t want to remember because for him like for many other people high school was hell and he was lucky he didn’t go insane even though many days he just really wanted too. Many days he wanted to snap and just say ‘fuck you’ to everyone around, but he never did.
He would go online sometimes and search stories of kids who killed themselves, or other people because of bullying and he really had to call his self lucky that it had never gotten to that. He was one of those people who just put themselves into their school work, his artwork, and his dancing because it was just what he was good at and what he loved for besides his best friend. He had always felt alone, his parents had obviously abandoned him when he was fourteen and he had been living with multiple friends in till they would get sick of him which was something that had always happened. Having another person in your house was hard, since they had needs and he was very grateful for the things that they did for him those years and he almost wished that they still talked but they all went off to college and Dixon was stuck here in Lipton a town that barely ever changed. When he was young he had dreams of getting up and leaving and looking back, he had so many hopes and dreams that just seemed to cost a lot more money than he had. It seemed lately that everything cost money though, and he really didn’t have that so here he was stuck in a place that he really just didn’t want to be and it sucked. It really sucked being in such a place as this, because years ago he would have never been able to imagine his self like this and looking back he really wished that he did so he could have just avoided it. Perhaps if he had pretended a little longer his life would be different now, he would have never had to leave his home and sure by now he would have still been hated by his parents but at least he would have been able to slow it all down.
He even use to imagine what his parents could be doing now without him, what they told people when they asked where he was. Did they tell them the truth he seemed to always wonder, or did they tell them a lie, some false story about how he just wasn’t home or that he had even died. He never did see any of his parent’s friends around town anyway, so he was almost as good as dead and he even heard that his parents had moved away. He figured it was just a way to get away from him and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was, his parents were just those types of people and they always would be. They were the type to just go and run away the minute things changed, they were never ones to stay and understand, that was evident in the fact that they could abandon their own son they had once said they loved. Dixon had to laugh at that really, they claimed that they had loved him, and he guessed this was their own special form of love. Dixon really wasn’t sure if he believed in love anymore, he would always watch these romance movies and read all these novels and they always seemed to puzzle him when he would look at his own twisted relationship and just how different it seemed to be from theirs. They would have kisses on the forehead, sweet words said, while Dixon had to fight and struggle each and every day. If only people wrote more about that, and less about the perfect relationships that just didn’t seem to exist he seemed to wonder just what would happen. Would people even care to read about that? He just seemed to wonder, but then he also guessed that he didn’t care his self because he knew the story by heart anyway, the story was his life.
This was a story that you just couldn’t stop reading when there was a part that you didn’t like it, because this wasn’t a story at all and Dixon had to live this out to the very end and sometimes he really seemed to wonder just what his ending would be. He knew that if things stayed how they are now his ending would not be a good one, he always just found his self closer to snapping and ending his own life everyday and he didn’t want it to come to that. He heard of so many people taking their lives because their lives just got so hard and they couldn’t handle and though Dixon hated to admit it he had once almost been in that situation already, he was a really silly high school student and he let things get to him. He did some things he wasn’t proud of in the past, and he had those scars to prove it but that really was in the past now. He tried hard to resist the urges to pick up a blade now, and he could always do it because he knew it really wouldn’t make things better anyway and someday when his life was finally where he wanted it to be he didn’t want all his scars there. It wasn’t attractive at all, and he just really hated having each and every one of them. He just really wished they would all just go away, but he knew that was so much easier said than done. There were so many things that were so much easier said than done though, he had all these thoughts and said all these things but he was always so scared to actually take action. He was so scared of what his boyfriend could do to him if he tried to leave, but he always thought about it. He always thought about finally being free but he knew right now he just couldn’t seem to do it, he just wasn’t ready.
He didn’t have the money for one, since all the money he ever earned he didn’t even get to keep because his boyfriend thought he would try to run if he got to keep the money that he got with every paycheck so he took it and kept very good records of just how much was there. It was funny really just how good with money the guy actually was even when he was drinking his life away, he still counted and recounted every dime and every penny just to make sure nothing was missing and then he would hide it all away and give him just the amount he needed for things and never anything over. The guy was paranoid and Dixon knew that, and he knew that he had to be careful with just what he said around him if he didn’t want to get beaten just for speaking out of line. He seemed to speak out of line a lot though, things that would normally not bother someone seemed to always bother his boyfriend and things that would normally bother someone seemed to not bother him. It was weird just how that man’s mind worked and Dixon just really seemed to hate that, it was just so silly. Everything his boyfriend did was so silly and so stupid and he really just couldn’t seem to even stand it really, his boyfriend had this way of doing things and everyone seemed to just think he was dim and in a way he was. He was a total ass around everyone, thinking that he knew everything and he always smelled like alcohol and Dixon was so surprised he hadn’t found a way to lose his job yet since Dixon was certain there were times when he had went to work drunk. There was really hardly ever a time where he wasn’t drunk now though, and Dixon hated that.
He wanted the old man he use to know, the one he knew would have never hurt him but he would never have him back because he had turned to drinking as his answer to everything. He never left the house either, Dixon was the type of person who just wanted to do things and have fun and his boyfriend just really wouldn’t have that. His boyfriend was more into sitting on the couch and just watching TV and that just bored Dixon so that was why he would go out and do things alone so he didn’t have to stay in the house all the time, he just couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t stand just sitting there all the time, he felt like he was in a cage sometimes so stuck and so trapped. He hated it so much really and he had to escape sometimes and he did escape sometimes too, he would just go and walk around town because he didn’t have a car. He wasn’t even allowed to get a license because that would be he would have a way of leaving, leaving was not allowed and knew someday when he was free he would find a way to have a license and finally just have something that is his for a change. He would finally have his life back, he could really just live his life the way he would want and he just needed to be happy again. He wanted to be happy again, he would hide his feelings and fake his smiles but it was always so hard for him to do and some days he really felt like he just couldn’t even do it anymore. He didn’t want to smile some days, he didn’t want to pretend anymore because pretending just seemed so silly and stupid now and it really didn’t fix anything. Dixon was a really good actor now a days, he could even fool his self now.
He knew there were very few people that he didn’t seem to fool, few people that looked behind his fake smiles and figured that he wasn’t okay no matter what he said. He thought he had perfected his disguise, thought that he had everything figured out but he then supposed that he just really hadn’t though and he hated it so much. He really did hate having to lie to his only friend but he did that to try and protect his self from having to explain just what was going on, but often times it just seemed that Sterling just knew something was going on and he was almost both glad and mad that he was the only person that could do that. He was the only person that seemed to pay so much attention to him, he was his very best friend and he knew that he just needed him. He was really the only person he could turn to when he was having a bad day, and Sterling was always there and he would always listen and he never was one to butt in like other people did. He actually cared to hear what Dixon had to say when he spoke with him, something really no one else would actually do. He could sit there and just talk for once, which was something that Dixon just really needed to do sometimes when his emotions just became far too hard for him to handle. He had so many racing emotions sometimes; he would cry his self to sleep at night just wishing that it would all stop, wishing that he just wouldn’t wake up but he knew that was just all too good to be true. It was so hard waking up all day and dealing with all the shit going on, perhaps being dead would be better anyway. Life would just be better that way perhaps, even though he just couldn’t stand the thought sometimes.
It was hard, handling all the thoughts that were in his head all the time and thought he tried to manage it all with a brave face he knew that it wasn’t going to be easy and perhaps that was just why he was sitting here right now in tears. He was sitting here feeling stupid for crying like this, he felt stupid for letting his emotions get the better of him because that wasn’t supposed to happen to him. He was supposed to be the happy person he normally was because things were just better that way, and things were easier that way for everyone. When he smiled no one asked him questions, when he smiled no one thought something was going on because they just thought he was happy even when he really wasn’t happy at all. He was more so slowly losing his head, and he knew that and he always felt that. He would stare down when talking, cringe and jump when someone touched him and he was just all together a tense fidgety person. No one seemed to question the way he acted, apparently he was just an odd person and that was the only reason they really had but Dixon knew the real reason. He knew everything of course, he knew just what went on each and every day and looking at Sterling he sighed and bit down on his lip. He was just so glad to have him in his life and he wasn’t even sure if Sterling knew just how much he really cared about him, he was the most important person in his life and he really believed that too. When he wanted to end his life he was the one who changed his mind each and every time, he was the one that made him realize that ending his life wasn’t really worth it.
“And you’re my very best friend too Sterling, you really are. You mean so much to me Sterling, you are always the one that can pull me out of the way I feel all the time” he whispered softly staring down at his lap for a moment biting down on his lap again. He listened to his words and he wished to he could just go right out and promise that he wouldn’t do anything drastic, but he really just couldn’t do that because really anything was possible. “I don’t know if that is possible, I can’t be certain what the future might hold for me Sterling” he bit down on his lip. He felt so weak and useless sometimes that it really was hard to tell what his future might be like and that was what really scared him the most.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on Mar 30, 2013 19:06:43 GMT -5
Sterling continued to struggle against his tears, he didn't want to show them, he didn't want to be weak. Right now it was him who was supposed to be the strong one, Dixon was strong all the time, he deserved to be able to break down and cry in that moment, to not have to care for anyone else like he always did. He bit his lip and sniffed quietly, forcing away his tears yet again, and instead he focused on the smell of the cigarette smoke as it unfurled from the steadily shrinking cigarette- curling into the steadily darkening sky and making nonsensical, abstract shapes until it faded away into the semidarkness, leaving on the linger odor.
Sterling thought on his own experience with smoking, for as long as he had done it, he didn't really smoke all that often. He figured that he had maybe a pack a month if he were to add up all the cigarettes he could bum off of other people. His first smoke had been when he was fourteen years old, a meek little freshman who had gotten to hang out with the cool seniors who smoked in a secluded corner of the school parking lot. He remembered the group well, they were all the stereotypical bad kids- the ones that had leather jackets, put piercings in their faces, and got suspended for fighting.
The leader of the group, who everyone called by his surname Murphy (Sterling at this point doubted that anyone knew what the boy's given name had been, he himself had never cared to find out), had been the one to supply the cigarettes. Apparently he had snitched the pack of Marlboro Lights from his mother's purse, and in celebration of his petty thievery had given one to each in the group and instructed them to light up. They had passed around the battered red Bic lighter and the air in their small circle had filled with the stench of the common brand of cigarette.
They had all made fun of Sterling because he had choked on the smoke, coughing and sputtering as he tried to get the fumes to go to his lungs, but they had caught in his throat. After a few puffs he had gotten the hang of it, and it was almost like an instant hook. He had felt strange as he had smoked the whole thin on his first go. It had made him very nauseous, enough so to the point where he had thrown up after he had left the group, and it had made an odd sort of fuzziness in his brain, as if the space between his ears had been filled with cotton.
But it had felt good, he had suddenly been very relaxed, and not at all did he think about the stresses of that day, and the questioning he had of his sexuality. He had simply mellowed out, which wasn't something that came to him easily. Sterling was a subtle worrier, he kept things in his mind, running over them over and over again in some sort of hellish hamster wheel. Sterling always over-thought everything, which seemed to be the exact opposite of what people might expect someone of his less than average intelligence to do, but it was simply the way that his mind worked.
He simply wasn't vocal about his mental struggles, not wanting to let anyone in on what he was thinking. But it was exhaustive. Had he looked too long at that attractive young man, but not long enough at the young woman in the mini-skirt and low cut top that seemed to be screaming for groping stares? Had he cleared the search history on his computer? What if he hadn't and his parents saw the things that he had Googled in the past week? Had he clocked out when he left work? Was he really supposed to be at work the next day at noon- or was it eleven and he simply forgot?
It was never-ending, he was always thinking, always worrying, he couldn't stop it. But the cigarettes were enough to mute it on a temporary basis. When he had a dose of nicotine running through his veins he didn't have to think about those things, it shut up his worrying, made him feel good. It had been an instant hook. He had spent the rest of his high school career getting cigarettes wherever he could, it made him stop worrying about his failing grades and how he could never pull them up even when he did put the effort into them, made him stop fretting over what his parents would do if they found out that he was gay, let him simply relax when nothing else helped. In a way, his minor addiction had turned into something that was almost liberating.
Sterling knew that it wasn't healthy, knew that smoking caused cancer and a whole slew of other health problems, but at this point he couldn't be bothered to give a damn. Maybe it would be best if he died young of lung cancer or heart disease, then he wouldn't be burdened with this situation for the rest of his life, or however long it took for him to be in the financial position to be able to support himself. At any rate, he didn't think that he was exactly at risk for developing too many severe health complications from his vice, it wasn't as if he could afford to have a cigarette whenever he wanted to.
The last time Sterling had bought a pack had been on his eighteenth birthday nearly a year ago. He had smuggled it home in his backpack, and had been able to make it last for an entire week, only allowing himself a few cigarettes a day. How he had stretched that pack of Lucky Strikes to the absolute limit... It had also been courtesy of Murphy that he had discovered his favourite brand. Once the senior had hit his own eighteenth birthday, he had been able to buy his own cigarettes, and with his offbeat ways had gone for one of the lesser-known brands, the ones that weren't in the locked case at the front of the grocery store, but rather one had to obtain at the specialty tobacco shops.
But the taste of that smoke... It was unlike any other brand, particularly when they were unfiltered. Sterling preferred any brand that way, but especially so with his Lucky Strikes. It was as if he had become some sort of purist when it came to cigarettes, they needed to be undiluted by that annoying orange piece of paper. But at this point in his life and finances, Sterling couldn't afford to be picky. Beggars couldn't be choosers, as the old saying went. He would take what he could get these days, even Virginia Slims, which he felt were girly cigarettes, he'd only ever seen them toted by old ladies at the bingo games the church hosted that his mother forced him to help with, or else threatened to ground him.
Those afternoons, always on Tuesdays, Sterling had always loathed. It was like going to church minus the sermons, stuck in a room that smelled of old people, the vibrant red ink in the stampers used to mark off bingo squares, molasses cookies, and stale coffee where the air it seemed hadn't been circulated once since the building had been erected in 1953. The hacking coughs of the elderly, the way the bingo balls had rattled around in that cage, and the utter lack of noise... Apparently he was volunteering while he was there, but he had only ever been sat between two old women who would fawn over him between marking their boards.
What a cute boy he was, such a sweet boy, coming to help while his mother kept making coffee and giving the decidedly lame prizes (Mrs. Sweeney's homemade apple pie, Mrs. Hannigan's secret-recipe fudge, cut into odd hexagonal-type shapes because her arthritis and Parkinson's didn't allow her to keep her hand steady to make them squares). You have B19, Mrs. Jenkins. Oh such a sweet boy. Honestly, it had been nauseating, and even as a small child he had hated it.
Sterling was simply glad that he now had work as an excuse to never be roped into the mundane activity again. Even if he wasn't scheduled he could simply say that he was and spend the afternoon out of the house, riding around on his motorcycle. Next to smoking, that was probably the only thing that cleared his head, and that was at least something he could afford to do. Sure, gas was expensive, but it wouldn't cost nearly as much as a more demanding nicotine habit, and he got fairly decent mileage even though his bike was loud and heavy.
Granted, he had never really gone on a long or high-speed trip on it, he simply idled around town going the speed limit, which in most places was 50 miles an hour, though if he went into business or residential areas it could easily go down to as slow as 25, which he didn't mind. He didn't feel the need to go highway speeds all the time, even if it was wonderful to go out on the freeway and push his motorcycle as fast as it could go. He often fantasized about taking a long road trip on his bike- something like going from coast to coast, riding out to California before turning around and going straight to somewhere in New England on the waterfront.
Though as appealing as that was, for the time being it seemed like nothing more than a pipe dream. He couldn't even afford to be independent from his parents, let alone take a cross-country trip on his motorcycle that would likely take several weeks. Perhaps he could just settle for, some day, taking a trip up to the mountains, allow that engine to roar up and down those steep rocky roads with the sharp drop-offs that would result in certain death. Oddly, the concept of danger to him simply didn't correlate with his motorcycle, even though he never rode with a helmet.
As well as the helmets being mildly claustrophobic, Sterling was of the stubborn belief that they didn't really do much of anything to protect the wearer in an accident beyond extremely slow speeds- all they did was keep one's brains contained in a neat little parcel. It wasn't really worth it. And at any rate, one of quality could set him back several hundred dollars. He would take his chances. Funnily enough for someone of his age, the idea of death didn't bother him, not that he thought about it in a romanticized way, some idealistic sort of afterlife where all his current problems would magically disappear, but he didn't fear it the way others might.
He simply found reason to not die, mostly in Dixon. Sterling didn't want to leave him all alone in his cruel circumstances, it wouldn't be fair. His best friend needed someone, needed him to be there, otherwise there was no telling what could happen. Well, there was, but Sterling didn't like to think about it- it made his stomach tie itself into inseparable knots, made his emotions surge, made that unfamiliar anger return to him. That was probably what he hated the most about his reactions to what Dixon was going through, the undeniable anger that he had no idea what to do with. He wanted to beat the blonde's boyfriend to a bloody pulp, knock out his teeth, break his bones, give him a black eye, something that might even begin to repay the damage he had inflicted on Dixon.
He knew it was a stupid idea, but he couldn't help his wild fantasies of severe revenge. Sterling wouldn't act on them, of course, unless he was completely positive that he would win- which he knew that he never would, he was weak for his age and size, didn't know the first thing about fighting, except how to curl up to keep vulnerable areas like his neck and abdomen protected. Some revenge that would be, letting himself get beat up while he laid on the ground tucked into a ball like an armadillo. Sterling sighed inaudibly and returned to biting his lip as he inhaled as much of the second-hand smoke as he could get.
He waited for Dixon to respond to his words, wanting nothing more than to hear him promise that he wouldn't do something as stupid as killing himself. That was all he wanted to hear, he wouldn't be able to survive without his best friend by his side. Nobody else had been able to coax out the real him, he couldn't allow anyone else. Sterling depended on Dixon just as much as the blonde depended on him, if only in a different way. He swallowed forcefully, as if under the impression that it would make the solid lump that had formed in his throat go away, as if it would be a solution to this terrible situation.
With the hand that was not resting on Dixon's shoulder, Sterling raked his fingers through his hair, an absent habit that he wasn't even aware that he was doing. Only a few people had even pointed it out to him, the ones that knew him well enough to be able to spot when he was stressed out. He didn't do it any other time, only when life knocked him on his ass and he felt lost. He dug his teeth further into his lip, he wanted to take Dixon by both of his shoulders and shake him, look straight into his eyes and demand that he agree to never end his life.
He wouldn't do that, of course, it seemed too close to something that his abusive boyfriend might do. Sterling just hoped that Dixon could see how much he needed him here, he wouldn't be able to make it on his own. Who would be there to just talk with him, see who the real Sterling was? He didn't have anyone else. Sure, he was in the process of forming a tentative friendship with his ex-girlfriend, but he didn't really think that Kylie would mean all the much to him other than being simple comic relief in his life. And really, to call Dixon simply his friend seemed woefully inadequate, the boy meant much more to him than that, "friend" was almost derogatory to deem their relationship in a sense.
Sterling listened as Dixon spoke, keeping with the same habit he had the whole of the evening and allowing him to say what he needed to say before speaking. He felt a faint surge of pride as Dixon confirmed how much their friendship meant to him, though at the same time it was slightly demoralizing. Was it wrong of him to want to have the blonde as something more than his greatest friend? Something other than someone to lean on, Forest and Bubba style from Forest Gump, to keep their heads out of the mud? But the small amount of positive feeling was quick to deflate at Dixon's next words.
Sterling's heart nearly missed a beat- did that mean that Dixon was still thinking about suicide? His stomach flopped and he felt almost ill again, he didn't even want to think about that. He couldn't do this alone, he needed Dixon, his only friend, his true ally, to be by his side. "Why wouldn't that be possible? Dixie, that's a very conscious decision, it's something you can say, right now, that you won't do," said Sterling, his stomach was still churning, and he felt his eyes stinging again. He didn't want to say anything that would upset Dixon, but he didn't want him to think that ending his life would be an okay thing. They would be fine, Sterling was going to get those jobs, get them an apartment, they would be able to be happy together, he couldn't let things be any other way, he might not be able to live otherwise.
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on Apr 7, 2013 21:49:49 GMT -5
Dixon honestly couldn't really tell you just when the first time he had smoked was because he didn't really remember anymore, he knew that it had just happened one day. A friend of his had suggested he smoke to deal with stress, because apparently Dixon always seemed stressed out so he had and it just seemed to stick with him and he was smoking still today.He didn't smoke often, cigarettes were expensive and he knew that even though his boyfriend did drink heavily he wasn't the biggest supporter of smoking and he tried to avoid making him angry at all costs so he was lucky if he smoked a pack a month which really wasn't much of an issue to him. He was far from being a chain smoker, and he would laugh at the people who even tried to call him one when they smoked a pack a day and coughed like they were choking on something all the time. Yes, Dixon had such a smoking problem and he so needed to stop, to bad he wasn't planning on stopping. He was to far into a form of addiction he had made for his self to stop, he liked the feeling he got when he was smoking. It made him feel that even in that first moment nothing was going on and his life was just fine.
Sometimes he wished that he could always feel like that, that his life was a lot easier than it was for even a week. He wished that for just a week he didn't have to live with his abusive boyfriend, but he knew that the guy was really the only person that he had anymore besides Sterling and even though Sterling wanted to help there really wasn't much that he could do to help him right now. They were both in a really tight spot, a spot that Dixon hated to be in and sometimes he wished that he had never gotten with his boyfriend, but who was Dixon to know that things would turn out the way that they did when the two started going out and who knew that Dixon was going to be thrown out. It was funny how life seemed to work and sometimes he wished that things were more like a video game, perhaps if life was that way he would finally have a chance. He could pause the game, and for once he could have nine lives instead of one. He knew that life wasn't a video game though and he just had to live everyday just hoping and praying that he had the strength to fight through everything, and some days it was hard.
Some days he just wanted to throw in the towel and say he was done with it all, because things weren't going to change and killing his self was so much better than waiting to be killed and being killed would be a much harder way to go. At least if he killed his self people wouldn't know anything was going on with his boyfriend, well no one but Sterling would know and perhaps that was why he stayed. He knew that Sterling would always know just what was going on in his head, the real reason why he ended his life and he just couldn't seem to do that and he felt awful for not being able to do it in the end. He was to much of a wimp to really go ahead with it, and he hated that so much, he hated always feeling so weak and out of place. He couldn't help it though, Dixon was alone basically since he only really had one friend and sometimes not even that was enough for him to remember that he was still wanted and people really did want him around. It was always the people that didn't want him around that he focused on, and there was plenty of people that just didn't want him around. All the people that looked down on him for being gay, they were the people that just made him feel so bad about his self when they said something.
They would tell him that no one wanted him around, that being gay was a sin as if not enough people already told him and they had to remind him too. It was annoying really, but it also made him feel awful because he already had enough to deal with and they just always added on more that he had to think about and deal with and the entire thing was just really stupid and he wasn't even sure how to handle it anymore and he wished that it would stop. It was as if people seemed to forget he was human when they would say things about him, and it was really no fair. He was always so nice to him and yet they couldn't even bother with being nice to him in return, it was as if they didn't care that he had feelings too and though he hated to admit it they really did get hurt easily and he would go home and just break down a lot lately. He was slowly falling into his own little pit of depression, and he knew that if things didn't change somehow it really wasn't going to end to good for him and that was really something that was scaring him a lot. He was really scared of just what his future might hold, because he knew that things really couldn't end to well.
He knew that if his boyfriend didn't finish the job he would end up doing it his self, and he just had to think of a method to do it. He wanted a quick and easy method really, one where there was no way he would be able to be saved from it once done. He wanted to die so much sometimes, and he felt awful about it and he knew that it might not be what his best friend might want but he couldn't change that and he wasn't even sure if he could promise that he wouldn't and actually mean that. He could say that he wouldn't do something but that never did mean he wasn't going to do it and often times he was just awful at keeping promises, even when the promise was something this important and as he just seemed to sit here he stared down at his fingers chewing on his lip when Sterling spoke to him he hardly even seemed to listen too his words his mind to fuzzy when he threw the finished cigarette down on the ground glancing up at his friend his eyes red and puffy from his crying. He just felt and probably looked awful, and he hated feeling this way right now because he knew that this wasn't supposed to be a way he was supposed to ever feel.
He felt awful for thinking the thought that he was thinking, he really did but he knew that when he was thinking like this it was really hard to stop and looking at Sterling he took a really deep breath. He had to take a really deep breath before he decided to speak, "it's funny really just how much I think about death and just so much I really do want to die sometimes. I mean I think to myself if my boyfriend doesn't do it I might as well so at least I don't have to be beaten to death" at those words his hands just started shaking at the very thought of actually being murdered by the hand of his very own boyfriend and he felt almost sick. He closed his eyes taking another deep breath before even thinking about continuing to speak, "and perhaps I wouldn't really do it but I know that there is a really really good chance that I would just by how I always feel" he added.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on Apr 8, 2013 11:54:18 GMT -5
Sterling wished he could stop his pulse from racing, make his stomach stop churning. But the idea of being without Dixon made him feel almost ill- he couldn't even stand the thought of something like that. Without the blonde boy he would be so utterly and completely alone that he wouldn't stand a chance. Sterling liked to think of himself as an independent soul, never needing anyone or anything to look after him, he could manage on his own thank you very much, but when it boiled down to the sheer idea of not having anyone to lean on, not having anybody know him for who he really was rather than the facade he kept up- was petrifying.
Sterling honestly didn't know how long he would last on his own. He didn't even want to have to try. The thought that he was so dependent on someone else was almost a little frightening, for so long he hadn't felt as if he needed anyone. He had been alone in most regards, sure he had always lived in a house with his parents and his two brothers, but that was different, it wasn't the same- they might be his family but they weren't really his friends, at least not anymore. Sterling couldn't remember the last time he had simply hung out with his brothers.
They had used to be thick as thieves, given that they weren't all that far apart in age- Sawyer was only older than him by two years, and Slater was younger than him by just over nine months. The lack of much difference in their ages had allowed them to be really close when they were growing up. Sterling still remembered how they had used to play together, for hours they could amuse themselves with the nonsensical games that only children can dream up. Sure, they had fought and bickered, and there had been that sibling rivalry- but that was to be expected.
But for the longest time, they had had their own group, they had been best friends. Sterling didn't really know what had happened to that relationship- they had grown up he figured. Sawyer had become an insufferable prick, mostly following in their parents' footsteps in regards to the way he thought- turned in to one of those mindless drones of religion. Though perhaps he did have some original thought, otherwise he might not be sleeping with his fianceé, or even before then when the girl had simply been his girlfriend. Though that didn't mean Sterling liked him any more.
He might be more tolerable if he really was a complete zealot, though for the most part it seemed like he was just faking it. Though Sterling didn't know if he really was in any position to judge, he wasn't exactly the most genuine person around, either. He had hidden who he really was for so long that he didn't even recognize his true personality anymore. Hadn't remembered that he was even capable of being tender and kind, had forgotten how much he really did love kids and animals, and that he could be happy. He'd been grumpy and reclusive for so long, being any other way seemed an entirely foreign concept.
That wasn't him. But it could be. It could be him if he were braver, better off financially, or with more understanding and accepting parents- such was life he supposed, nothing could ever go in the most idealistic way, at least not for him. But Sterling couldn't help but wonder if even in the lives of people better off than himself, if everything good had to come with some sort of catch to it, a couple of strings attached. Nothing was really free for him, would it be the same way for other people? He hoped so. It might not be kind of him to think in that manner, but he worked so hard trying to keep up his mask, keep a strong face, that the idea of people getting things simply handed to them was nauseating.
Sterling saw that all the time with his younger brother, Slater- he was the baby of the family and it seemed that he could get his hands on whatever he wanted by acting charming, or sometimes not doing anything at all. It frustrated him to no extent, why should things be so easy on his little brother? Perhaps that was where the relationship he had with his other sibling had turned sour- Sterling didn't think that he would be the jealous type, but that simply didn't seem fair. That and Slater seemed just as false as Sawyer was, if not more so in the way that he would kiss up to their parents just to get their approval.
Sterling figured that at the very least he didn't do that- he might be mostly a fake, but he didn't go around kissing people's asses. He'd rather piss them off instead and not have to continually suck up to people with compliments he didn't think that they deserved. In that regard he could be very real. Sterling had decided to cling to that the best that he could, it wasn't even that honourable of a characteristic, but at least it was something genuine to who he was, something that he didn't have to put effort into to keep doing, or something that he needed to hide along with the rest of his real self.
It was almost like having a shred, however small and insignificant, of normalcy in his life. Really, that was what Sterling craved, just to have things be, well, normal. Maybe then they might not be so difficult. Perhaps if he were normal he might be smart enough for college, his parents wouldn't give a damn that he wanted to be with men instead of women- hell they might even be supportive, and offer Dixon a room in their house... Sterling shut down this line of speculative thinking quickly, there was no point in it, all it would do would be to disappoint him again when he did wake up to his reality.
Where he had to act like a homophobic douche so he could have a place to live, tear tickets and sweep up spilled popcorn because he was too stupid for college or a job that would pay better than minimum wage. Honestly it was depressing, but Sterling kept going, he had to, there was no other choice. And with Dixon's situation being what it was, he had to stay strong for the boy, nobody else was going to be strong for him. In a way, they were leaning on each other, Dixon might not realise it, but Sterling needed him more than he could ever possibly say.
Hence why him even mentioning that he thought about the idea of suicide was so difficult to take, was enough to chip away at the final barrier in his emotional defenses and bring him to tears, make him show just how weak he really was. Sterling didn't like this side of himself, but if anyone was going to see it, he would rather it be Dixon, the blonde currently under his arm was the only person that he could trust with what he felt to be highly sensitive information. Nobody else was allowed to see him cry- if one could count the few tears he had allowed past his eyelids as truly crying.
Sterling wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, they still stung, but had at least stopped filming over with tears, perhaps he might be able to regain his composure for just a little while longer. His emotions churned more at Dixon's words, they were so very difficult to hear, and he felt that it only made the blonde's situation more dire. Was it really that bad? His feeling of helplessness only increased. He wanted to cry again, but he fought his tears back once more. "You're stronger than you know, we can make it, I just need time," said Sterling.
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on Apr 19, 2013 19:19:29 GMT -5
Dixon knew that he had to put on a brave face and fight through it all, but sometimes it really did seem too hard to and he just wanted to go ahead and call it quits. For years he had been pretending to be okay when people would ask him what was wrong, for years he would hide his emotions and how he was feeling just so he wouldn’t worry people. When he was back in high school he was viciously bullied for being gay, he remembered being thrown into trash cans and stuffed into lockers and really it was horrible. He wanted to stand up for his self when these things would happen but it was basically impossible for him to do so, when he was basically just one person fighting a group of people you could easily tell he was very outnumbered. It was the price he had to pay for being a loner though, he had very few friends and the friends he did have never seemed to stick around for very long and were clearly not very good friends. They were the type of friends that would only come around when you needed something, and after that you wouldn’t talk to them for days and even for weeks. Dixon use to have a bunch of friends like that, but with time it seemed that he had shut a lot more people out and now Sterling really was about his only friend that he had anymore.
It didn’t help that he didn’t have any siblings either, his parents use to say that he was all they needed and they never even bothered thinking about having another child after he was born because he was perfect. He had to laugh at that now, since he knew that he obviously wasn’t so perfect if here he was in a situation he really didn’t want to be in basically biting his tongue. It was really nothing but a bitter reality, he had to deal with things day by day and just try and survive no matter just how hard it was and no matter just how much he really hated it sometimes. He just really couldn’t be one to complain, complaining would only lead to issues that he just wanted to avoid. He would be fired from his job if he complained at work, and he would be beaten if he were to complain at home. He was in such a tough bind that sometimes he didn’t even bother to say anything at all, he would stand there basically mute and just take what comes. He would come home and cry his self to sleep each night, but that was just the price he had to pay for being who he was. He was Dixon Conway, and he would always be Dixon Conway.
Most days he even liked being who he was, he was unique from what people told him. He was one of a kind and he use to think that a good thing and it was a good thing in till he just seemed to think that he was weird and that was what people said he was one of a kind, he was his own kind of weird. He was quiet, always alone, and basically a pretty unhappy guy. He wasn't really one for smiling all the time, in fact he actually hardly smiled because he just really didn't see a point in smiling when he knew he wasn't happy. He didn't even know how to be happy anymore, it seemed to him that happiness was some foreign feeling, an emotion that he no longer had. He use to be happy, in fact he use to smile all the time but now he just didn't have much of a reason to since he had a horrible boyfriend and parents who simply just despised him. It seemed that more people hated him and despised him than actually liked him and he hated thinking like that, he hated thinking and knowing that his family and his boyfriend probaly didn't even give a shot about him. How could he possibly even try and be happy when he had that to think about, it really was about impossible and Dixon didn't even know how he could do it. Some days were a lot harder than others, some days he just really wanted to snap and it was a surprise that he didn't.
He really was sick and tired of most people because people really were just so stupid and blind sometimes, they could never seem to see that Dixon was human and he had feelings just like everyone else. They would pick fun at his flaws and treat him like crap because they could, because they knew he would just sit there and take it while everyone would get for being treated differently. They knew that Dixon was just far to good of a person to be bothered by these things, and even though they did seem to upset him he just always kept that to his self even when he knew he shouldn't. He really wasn't that important anyway, and he never would be really important either, he was a speck of dust compared to some people. A parasite even, and that was all he could be because people just seemed to dislike him so much sometimes and it really sucked. It seemed that lately so many people just seemed to dislike him for no reason even, the only reason he could think of isthe very fact that he was gay and that was a horrible reason to hate a person and to dislike a person when he really couldn't help it. He never chose to be this way, it wasn't a choice at all like people seemed to say because if it was he wouldn't chose to be hated like this.
No one would go ahead and chose to be hated by a group of people, it was to the point where people be beaten and even murdered for just being themselves. It was an awful thing to think, it showed him just how flawed the world really was. The world was full of flaws in fact, people would harm other people and people would be full of so much hatred and it made Dixon sick to his stomach at the very thought. It was funny just how many people seemed to take their lives and yet people still didn't seem to care, sometimes they even thought that the person deserved to die the way that they did. They were just taking up space anyway and they were doing everyone a favor taking their own life, how people could be so cruel Dixon really didn't seem to understand. They could go ahead and call a person a name and not care what it might do to the person, and often times the person starts to believe just what the other people would say because that was really all that they could do. They were forced to believe the things people would say to them, they would go home and think of themselves in such awful ways and their self esteem would lower. They really were hardly themselves anymore because they were the type of person they never wanted to be, they were unhappy and they didn't want to be that way. They never intended for things to be like this, but sometimes things didn't go as you planned.
Dixon just seemed to take deep breaths now trying to calm down, his hands shaking as he just seemed to be freaking out due to all the thoughts running through his head. He had thoughts of suicide, thoughts of being murdered and he really hated having these thoughts because they really made him feel so weak and helpless and perhaps he was a lot weaker than he thought he was. He was not afraid to admit that even he felt weak sometimes because he really was just human, and he couldn't be anything but human either. He was also very against the statement that guys didn't cry, because crying showed you have emotions and Dixon had emotions. "It's funny really, people suspect me to be so strong all the time. They suspect me to be so happy, and act like I'm okay and that nothing is wrong even when there is always something wrong. I'm slowly falling, slowly breaking and I don't know how much more of this I can really take. I am only one person, I am not as strong as I think I am" he whispered biting down on his lip. "I want to be strong, I really do but lately I just really don't think that I am. I feel so weak" he added softly.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on Apr 21, 2013 21:22:40 GMT -5
Sterling felt his insides squirm uncomfortably, his brain was screaming at him to get off that bench and do something that might save Dixon right that very minute, but whatever portion of logical thought that still remained told him nothing could be done in that moment. It was going to take time. But with the way that his best friend was talking, Sterling didn't know how much time he had left. He made it sound like his boyfriend was one outburst away from murdering him, and honestly, he was scared to death that what Dixon was saying would likely be the truth. The thought of that happening alone almost made him sick.
Not his best friend, not his Dixon, his blonde little angel. The boy who had never done any harm to anyone, who had been dealt such a raw deal by life, was in such an unfair situation with no way out... It would hardly be fair for his life to end now, at this point. Sterling would never forgive himself if Dixon was murdered or killed himself before he could help him- he didn't know if he would be able to live with the guilt. He might come off as having a devil-may-care personality, not giving a damn about the circumstances of other people, even taking delight in their misfortunes, but he really was a sensitive boy.
Really, he probably cared to much about other people for his own good. Sterling was the type who would give whatever he had without a second thought, would get misty-eyed when he saw or heard of the troubles of others- stories of starving children in Africa, natural disasters that wiped out hundreds leaving so many without homes and families, hell, even the ASPCA commercials that showed the abused and neglected dogs and cats brought tears to his eyes. But Sterling was a hardass jerk, a total douche who thought that crying was for pussies, and that everyone could take care of themselves without his help or that of anyone else.
If only they knew how much he really did care. How many nights he had lost sleep worrying over his best friend, how many nights had been spent crying into his pillowcase... Sterling himself wouldn't even admit the number, likely because it happened too many times for him to keep track of. He wouldn't even tell that to Dixon, the blonde didn't need to hear of the woes of anyone else, not when his life was, quite frankly, a living hell. Sterling could deal with the crippling weight of his mask, his double-life, alone, he didn't need to burden his best friend with something else when his load was already so unfairly heavy.
It was killing Sterling that there wasn't much he could do to make it any lighter, it was obvious that his friend was floundering, that he needed more than just a shoulder to cry on, but in that moment there wasn't much more that he could offer. He just wanted to take the boy into his arms, hold him tightly and kiss him, tell him that everything would be all right and then run away with him. His motorcycle had close to a full tank of gas, they could just go right then and there. They wouldn't get very far, neither of them had very much money, but they would be able to get away.
He would figure everything else out later, first they just needed to get the hell out of Lipton, get Dixon away from that horrible man... Sterling knew that it was stupid, however, and they would end up without a roof over their heads or even money for food in a matter of a day or two, but he couldn't deny that that was what he wanted to do. Hell, there were stories of squatters, people who lived out of abandoned or foreclosed properties for years, they could both get petty jobs to feed themselves and just do something like that, so what if it was illegal, it would be better than whatever situation they were in now, he was convinced.
But that was stupid too, and Sterling recognized it. It seemed the more desperate he got to rescue Dixon from the clutches of his abusive boyfriend, the wilder his solutions became. Though he was supposed it would be better than allowing his anxiety to wash over him and lapse into a panic attack over it. He was giving himself an outlet for his worry, rather than letting it just build up. Sterling bit his lip, he just wished he could come up with a feasible idea, something that they could realistically accomplish, something that would end all of this for good.
Sterling couldn't say that he had any experience with things such as abuse, sure his relationship with his parents was a far cry from ideal, but he wouldn't label them as being abusive. Yes, he'd been spanked as a child, and his mother had given him a smack offside the head a time or two, but they had never left marks on him, never broken the skin. Yes, they were quick to yell, but they didn't call names or be downright manipulative, trying to change their children's thoughts into ones that were self-deprecating. Not anything like that. Honestly, he had probably lead a very sheltered life up until this point, up until he had opened his eyes.
It was a bit of a crude awakening at first, learning of Dixon's problems, and finding out just how closed-minded his parents and the religion he had grown up with all his life really were. It was a major shock to the system, to see all the hate that really was in his world, how much pain and misery was going on, and how little was being done to bring it to an end. It was depressing in a way, and sometimes it was all Sterling could do to not shut down entirely, become crushed under the weight of his own mask, collapse and just give up entirely, there were some days where the idea was tempting.
But the blonde still under his arm was what kept him going. Sterling wouldn't admit it, but Dixon had saved him in a way, given him one place where he truly was allowed to be who he was without fear of judgement or being thrown out. Someone really did care about who the real him was, didn't care that he was stupid, that he was essentially stuck. Dixon didn't even seem to care about how fake he was with everyone else, how he acted so mean and cruel all the time, it was liberating to have someone who accepted him as who he was, Sterling hadn't known that such a person could even exist, hadn't thought it possible.
Maybe he was just cynical, but he didn't have much faith in people- thought that everyone else was out for merely their own interests, and probably wouldn't have any qualms with stepping on someone else to get whatever it was that they wanted. He had observed it in even the most devout Christians in his church, so why should anyone outside of the congregation be any different? And with all the things on the the news, death, destruction, killing, people causing other people pain- it was hard to not be entirely pessimistic on the matter, but Dixon was challenging that line of thinking in him.
The blonde it seemed was so selfless, would do anything to help someone else and expect absolutely nothing in return. It was humbling in a way, and Sterling at many times was in awe of him, how he could be so generous and forgiving after all he had been through. He couldn't say that he would have turned out the same way, he would probably end up being twice as pessimistic as he was now, with even less faith in humanity... Sterling dug his teeth further into his lip, he wished that he wasn't so emotional, that he really was as stoic as the act he presented to the world. Maybe if he didn't really care then it might not hurt so much. But on the same note, he couldn't imagine not caring about Dixon.
He cared about the blonde deeply, more than he could even begin to express, maybe he even loved him. It was all terribly confusing, but Sterling didn't suppress whatever feelings he did have, he needed to work through them, if he held those back like everything else he might explode. "I know it's hard, it's not fair that all this has to be on you, you deserve so much better," said Sterling. You deserve me, his mind injected, but he didn't dare say out loud. He instead wrapped his other arm around Dixon, pulling him into a soft, cautious hug.
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on May 6, 2013 21:48:41 GMT -5
Dixon always seemed to wonder what his life would be like if his parents never kicked him out, would it be different than the life he was living now or was it only a matter of time anyway before he would have fallen into his boyfriend's trap and moved out of his house anyway. He really did use to think that the guy loved him, in the beginning he was so nice to him and he even treated him like he cared about him and he never thought that he would have changed into the person that he was today. It wasn't in till he had started drinking when he finally realized just how horrible he really was, he started beating him every time he wasn't sober and he really was hardly ever sober because the alcohol just seemed to take over his life. Dixon knew that his boyfriend was an alcoholic and he also knew that he was very capable of killing him if Dixon wasn't careful and in a way that was the very thing that frightened him the most, and he knew that he had to end it before his boyfriend could. He knew that if things got to far he really could take his own life, and honest the thought of death really did terrify him. He didn't want to die at the age of nineteen but sometimes he seemed to wonder if perhaps that was just the way things had to be, and he hated having to always think that.
He also hated always crying his self to sleep, lying in bed just wishing that things were even a little bit different for him and knowing that they just couldn't be. His boyfriend would either be in bed with him, his horrible breath right in his face, or he would fall asleep anywhere else and Dixon would have the bed to his self. Honestly he would much rather have the bed to his self, at least them he didn't have to deal with anything. Often times when his boyfriend was in bed with him he ended up rolling right on his arm and Dixon really hated that, he also hated the way the guy just always seemed to smell. It was one of those things Dixon really just couldn't seem to get over, he just really hated this all. He hated having to feel sorry about his self all the time when he knew there were people out there that had it so much worse than he did and they hardly ever complained, sure there were also the thousands of people that tried to die or already died but Dixon was determined to try and not be one of them because that really would mean that his boyfriend won and he didn't want that. He wanted to be able to get out of the situation that he was in somehow and be able to say that he made it, and even though each and every day that goal seemed so much harder he wasn't going to go and give up on his hope just yet because doing that just really did seem silly to him.
He still had a change to make it, and he knew that. He had to believe that to be true or he knew that he had no chance of actually surviving just what was going on in his life. Sure his situation was obviously not ordeal, but he was sure that he could manage and he had to manage. He had to manage for the sake of everything he hoped could happen someday, he really had to fight for his right to be really free from his boyfriend for once. He hated having to live like he was basically a prisoner in his own home where he was sure no one understood him, even when he was back with his parents he was sure that his opinions never really mattered to him. He was always a weird child because when there was a gay couple on TV he was never one to hate on them like they would, he just couldn’t do that to people who really did nothing wrong. He never did understand just how being gay was so wrong when they were probably good people and meant no harm to anyone, and the people who would beat and bully a person for being gay apparently they were not in the wrong. It disgusted Dixon to know that anyone could do such a thing to a person and they didn’t even care, in fact some people even praised them for it. Dixon knew that even at a young age he could never be one of those people, and it only progressed from there to the point where he realized that he was gay.
The day when Dixon realized that he liked guys instead of girls it was a really weird day really, he was sure that he had always known deep down inside of him but he was just afraid to admit it to his self and at first he had to hide it too. He was young at the time and he also knew that his parents would never accept him for who he was, the fact that he was there only son meant nothing anymore and then there was the day when he came out to them when he was fourteen. He was first smacked in the face by his father, he was beaten even, and then he was finally thrown out and he went to live with a friend for a while glad that his parents were a lot more accepting of Dixon who just happened to be gay. He was a disgrace to his family and he knew that, he never did see his parents again or any of his other family members for that matter and he really was okay for that though because he really didn’t want to see them. He really hated his parents and his family for what they did to him, and for what they did to other people just for hating them for something they really had no control over and it was just stupid and it was silly. Dixon was almost glad to be away from them, they were awful people and he knew for a fact that he hated them no matter what other people said.
Now he seemed to have a whole society against him though, not against him as a person but against him just because he liked guys and not girls. He would deal with the names he would receive from them, he had heard them all throughout high school after all. He had been thrown into trashcans and had his head dunked into toilets for years, in fact high school was hell for him and he was just so glad to be out of there now. He knew that if he had to stay one more year in that dreaded school he wouldn’t have made it, and he heard that college was so much better but college was also expensive and though he was probably smart enough to go there was just no way he would ever be able to afford it on his salary that hardly paid for food sometimes. He knew that, and that was the main reason why he wasn’t a college student right now. When he was a kid he had dreamed of being an artist or going into theater, or even literature but now that only seemed like silly wishes that would never come true. He had struggled a lot anyway, mostly due to the fact that he was to afraid to go to school and face the bullying so he just skipped a lot and because of that he was almost unable to even graduate. He really was one of those lucky ones, and for that he was almost glad because at least he had made it and he could say that he made it even though it was hard for him.
He was one of those students that barely got by, not because he was stupid because he really was far from being stupid no matter what other people said. He was into art and theater, and he just loved literature and history because those were things that seemed to interest him and those were the things that he were really into. He could sit and read a book he was interested to in two days depending on how long it was, and at one time he was even a nerd always watching the history channel because he liked to know what was going on in the past. He loved to learn about the past because he really did believe that time was to repeat itself, it was important to know just what happened to try and stop it from happening again. He would see stories about people dying, and being beaten all the time and really it was awful to watch it and know that people did these things and people really could be that evil and that horrible. He was always the type of person to try and see good in people, but what happened when a person just really had no good in them at all. Did those people really exist and those were always the things that Dixon just really seemed to wonder when he seemed to think about it. He was always thinking now though and as he sighed a little bit to his self he just simply bit down on his lip, it was a horrible thing for him to think about really.
“I don’t seem to understand how a person could be like that, how anyone could be like that really. I mean how could a person lay their hands on someone like that, as if they don’t even care what happens. As if it doesn’t matter if they live or if they die, if I die. I don’t even think that my boyfriend would care if he found me hanging from a tree or in the closet, if I took pills. I think he would be happy that I’m finally gone” he was almost upset to even say that but he knew that it was true and he knew that it would always be true. His boyfriend could never truly care about him, if anything he was just waiting for him to die.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on May 7, 2013 0:15:56 GMT -5
Sterling sat, his stomach churning and his heart aching, doing all that he was capable of in that particular moment, and gently holding Dixon in his arms. His friend hadn't fought the gesture, which he took as a good thing, and honestly, it felt nice. For so long he had had the desire to take the blonde under his arm, shelter him from the woes of the world, be his protector, and in that moment he felt that he was actually doing the job that he had mentally assigned himself. Sure, it was silly to think, but he couldn't think otherwise, couldn't manipulate his raging feelings for the boy in any other direction.
In a way, it was almost frightening. For so long, Sterling had been alone, having to rely on himself and his own defenses and not giving a damn about anyone else. Or at least maintaining the appearance that he didn't, and thus not acting on any of his nurturing impulses. So in a way, it was like being entirely alone, and now that he was, in a way, so dependent on Dixon's existence he was terribly confused. He had barely figured out his own sexuality, let alone something as complicated as this- loving someone not only of his gender, but who was in a very unhealthy relationship.
Sterling didn't really know what he was doing when it came to love. An outsider might deem him at least somewhat experienced, given the plethora of "girlfriends" he had had, but none of those had been genuine relationships, they had just been for the sake of keeping his parents off his back, and preventing his mother from setting him up with one of the annoying girls from church. He'd had... Twelve of them? Maybe it was closer to twenty, honestly he didn't keep track anymore. He didn't even remember all of the girls that he went on dates with, they never really mattered.
All he would do on a date was sit across from whatever girl he had either halfheartedly attempted to charm or approached him first and pretend to listen while she talked. Most of the time he didn't get more than a second or third date once whatever girl got the impression that he was not interested in her whatsoever, not what she looked like, not what she had to say, or anything at all that she could do in the bedroom. There was only so much of being around an asshole that any girl could take. And it was preferable that way, Sterling could feign interest for a little while, but affection was a whole different concept.
Thinking on his past relationships, he had only done that sort of thing in high school, and in spite of rumours he had never gone beyond hand-holding, draping an arm around the girl's shoulders, and quite aggressive displays of making out. He had compensated for his utter lack of enthusiasm, or really any sensation other than pure apathy, by being forceful and near vulgar. It had worked for the time being, though now that he had left the odd social hierarchy of high school such displays were unnecessary for keeping up with his act, though he figured he was getting to the point where people might be suspicious if he were chronically single for much longer.
How long had it been since he had gone out on a date with whatever random girl? Two months? Three? Maybe it was more like four or six. He ought to keep better track of these things, but there was already so much that he needed to keep track of that something as trivial as dates that he wasn't really interested in just didn't seem quite so important. He thought back on his history, he didn't even remember all the girls, though there were a select few that had left more of a lasting impression on him, he could still remember them more clearly than the vague memories that the rest of them had been reduced to.
One of the more vivid ones was, predictably, the first girl that he had ever gone out with. Her name had been Monica, which he was surprised he even remembered, though he couldn't recall her surname to save his life. They had been mostly innocent high school freshman, and he had taken her to homecoming. He remembered the day vividly, if not what was said, then the sensations, what he had felt, what he had smelled and tasted, the music that had been blasting at an uncomfortably loud level in the school gymnasium. Monica had been the one to approach him and ask him to go to the dance with her, and at first he had tried to refuse, but she had been persistent.
She was stubborn like a mule, not unlike himself, and he had finally grudgingly agreed to go with her after the twentieth time she asked. His mother had practically swooned, her little boy was going to be a right gentleman and take a lady to a dance. He had still talked to his brothers then, Sawyer who was a junior and thus was going through this through the third time, had sympathized with him. Slater, who had been all of fourteen in the eighth grade, had snickered at him. His younger brother at that time had not yet seen much interest in what women had to offer.
Of course, neither had Sterling, he was just pretending, but it seemed like the normal age for boys to get into that sort of thing. He had known he was gay since he was thirteen, but he had had whatever trace amount of cleverness to keep it to himself, and by that time in his life knew that he needed to actively start hiding it in whatever way he could. So he had gone to the stupid dance with stupid Monica. Given that they were both fifteen and unable to drive, his mother had jumped at the chance to play chauffeur so she could fuss over the young couple.
She had picked out his clothes for him, sent him in an uncomfortable pair of slacks with a button-up shirt and a tie, not unlike what he would wear to church, though he had an ensemble with a stark contrast of black and white. It had essentially been a tux minus the jacket and some of the bells and whistles. They had driven to the next neighbourhood over to pick up Monica- his mother had forced him out of the car to go and knock on her door, rather than send the customary text message that he had arrived, and she had answered the door in all of two seconds, as if she had been pacing back and forth in the foyer, she had been excitable, like a Chihuahua, bubbly and entirely annoying.
Were he straight, he might have found her pretty, she was the butch sort of athletic girl, but for the dance she had gone fully feminine- wearing a knee-length salmon pink dress, her hair nicely curled and a tasteful application of makeup. She had even worn high-heeled shoes that Sterling was certain killed her feet. But she had obviously put the effort into presenting herself nicely for him. His mother had fussed over them even as they were on the doorstep of Monica's house, she had squealed about how cute they were, snapped pictures (forcibly posing them for each one) as Sterling glowered and apologized to his date about her behaviour. But Monica had seemed so utterly thrilled to be holding his hand that she honestly didn't care what his mother was like. Naive, silly girl, his mother was honestly a nasty woman...
The relationship had been quick to end when Sterling didn't pay her as much attention as she wanted, but Monica was quick to go on and snag some other guy, much to his relief. Of course, he had never been romantically interested in her, but he had never really liked her to begin with. Her personality was crass, she was loud, more energetic than any other living creature, her existence had grated on his very soul. So Sterling had moved along, going out with this girl and that girl, never investing much effort into any of them, just ambling about, hoping to not be called out for what he really was.
Sterling had lived in fear of that moment nearly all of his high school career that someone would figure out that he was one of the people that he had relentlessly bullied. That word would get back to his parents, and that he would be thrown out without anywhere to go... Hell, Sterling still feared it, he didn't have the means to support himself, and he had burned so many bridges that he didn't think there was a single couch in all of Lipton that he would be allowed to crash on while he figured out his life. That was perhaps the most frightening idea of all, ending up homeless, unable to care for himself, let alone Dixon who obviously needed someone to take care of and protect him.
It was just such a difficult situation, he still didn't really know what to do with himself other than what he was doing, as well as getting himself another job or two around town. He was trying, but it wasn't enough, Sterling knew that, all that he had done thus far had yet to make all that much of a difference, and that thought alone was enough to move him to tears again, but he fought them back. Those would be saved later for his pillow, right now he needed to be strong for Dixon, the young man who put on a brave face all the time, it was the blonde's turn to have a well-deserved breakdown, he didn't need to carry anyone else's burden at the moment. Sterling's throat constricted tightly as his friend spoke again, getting into that dangerous territory of suicide again. Was Dixon genuinely considering it? The idea was very frightening indeed.
"I..." Sterling began, though a sizable lump in his throat made him swallow forcefully before he could continue, "I don't know what's going on in his sick head, but you are an amazing person, so kind and giving. And I would care if you did that, please, you're my only friend, just hold on. I... need you around." He unconsciously made his hug slightly tighter, but kept it loose enough so Dixon could pull away if he wanted.
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on May 24, 2013 18:02:43 GMT -5
Dixon always hated feeling weak, and feeling like he needed someone to care for him because that made him almost feel almost needy and he never wanted to feel this way. It was such an awful way to feel, feeling as if he needed someone in his life even though he never did have anyone before. His parents had been deemed hopeless by the time that Dixon was eight because they always seemed to think that there were things far more important than their son, and Dixon was basically ignored. He hated that growing up, always being ignored at home because there were times when he really did need his parents and they just weren’t there. It was as if they forgot they even had a son, and really it was awful and he learned to deal with it and he learned to cook on his own because often times he was the only one at home and if he didn’t know how to cook he would probably starve and that wasn’t all that bad really. He would make small things, normally things that could be made in the microwave when he was younger since he didn’t know how to work a stove and sure sometimes the things came out burnt but at least he ate and he made sure to eat enough when he ate too. He knew how not to go hungry, and he knew that he was probably a lot better off than kids his age.
At the age of fourteen he went to live with his best friend for awhile, he would help around the house all the time just so he didn’t feel like such a burden and if his friend didn’t move in the end he would probably be there now. Sure his friend’s family was all for him coming with them but Dixon actually didn’t want to leave, Lipton was his home and he actually really liked it here and he just couldn’t leave like that. Thinking back on his life now he almost wished he had, perhaps if he did his life would be different and he wouldn’t be in such a tough place as where he was now and he had to realize that he really couldn’t change the past though. His past was always going to be just how it was, he would always be basically a disgrace to his family, and he would always have to remember that he use to be a person who self harms and he had those scars on top of the ones from his boyfriend to remind him of that. He knew that harming yourself wasn’t the thing to do either, and he had since stopped doing that and he refused to do it again because all it did was leave ugly scars on your wrists. They really weren’t attractive and he hated looking at them all the time, he knew that they were there because they were always there and they would always be there. He hated knowing they would always be there though, he hated having scars to remind him of all the times he was weak because that was just what they did. That was basically the only thing that they did for him in fact, they were ugly reminders of his past. They were ugly reminders of the fact that no matter what he really couldn’t escape his past, his past was always there and he couldn’t due a single thing about. He was stuck, the future was so scary too, and perhaps it was even scarier than the past.
The past you could really just put behind you but with the future you couldn’t do that, you didn’t know just what your future was to hold for you. The future was now; it wasn’t yesterday or the day before. You were living this no, and that was really the one thing that seemed to just scare Dixon the most because he was always afraid of that unknown. He was scared of the things that might come, and he would always be afraid of those things because he was always unsure of tomorrow or the next day and he knew that soon his end might come. He knew that he had to get out of the situation he was in before he just ended up dead but he also knew that doing so would be really difficult because he had nowhere to go and no money to buy anything. He was poor as they came even with his job, he tried to hide money in the beginning but that became impossible because he had started to figure things out and he would ask him where his money always went. It then ended up with his boyfriend taking all the money that he had each week, what he did with it was all up to him and his boyfriend would only ever give him the amount of money that he needed to buy things for the house. Any change they got would be counted and he would keep every receipt and if he thought he went over his limit he would be hit just for that, there was always a list for everything.
Dixon’s boyfriend seemed to always be the type of person to keep lists; he was quite the organized type even when his life was a mess. He always seemed to just know everything and that was just what Dixon despised about him, the guy seemed to have spies everywhere and every move that Dixon made his boyfriend knew about. It was ridiculous sometimes the things that he would ask him about his day and it scared him that he seemed to know every single time that he was lying and when he was lying he would pay for it. He could trace the scars he had due to every time he seemed to lie about something that he did, in hopes that he would believe him. Of course he never did and Dixon never expected him too, he really was fighting in a war he wasn’t sure he was going to win. In fact it almost seemed impossible that he would, if his boyfriend didn’t kill him he was sure to kill his self and if it came down to that no matter what Sterling said could stop him. He was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode and in time, he knew that he was going to. His time really was slowly running out and he was just waiting for his time to really be up and he was ready for it, sometimes he really believed that he was ready to just die.
Honestly if anything Dixon was just really sick of fighting now, he was tired of putting on a mask and just pretending that everything was okay when he knew it wasn’t. He could smile and wipe makeup on bruises, but that never meant that there was nothing wrong and he knew that no matter what people seemed to say there was really a lot that was wrong with him and with the world in general. Sometimes he wished that his life was easier, that society wasn’t so blind but he knew that wasn’t the case at all. He knew that the world was really flawed and messed up and above all the world and society as he knew it was never going to be the same, and it was changing for the better and for the worst as well. At least now the LGBT community was beginning to get their rights as marriage equality was beginning to become legal in more and more states, and that was a reason to celebrate. He even hoped that someday marriage equality would be legal in all fifty states, so perhaps someday if his life was back on track he could get married too. That was something that people like him had been waiting for hundreds of years and now they could finally have that chance, and Dixon really wasn’t sure if he wanted to miss out on it, but he knew his boyfriend was not the guy for him.
He had it in his head that he really knew all along but he was just too afraid to admit it to his self and fix it before he let things get like this, he had to let things get this far for him to really realize that something wasn’t right and he had to fix it. The only problem now was that it seemed too late to fix it now, and even if he could fix it he’d have no idea how to fix it now since things were like this. His boyfriend would leave him bleeding and bruised and not even care, really the only thing he seemed to really care about was alcohol and getting high and Dixon really hated that because he was not the type to drink and even though he smoked he never did smoke often. He tried to keep away from things like that because he knew just how much alcohol and drugs could change a person and he never wanted to be like that. He had even thought it stupid for people to act that way, and yet people still continued to drink so heavily and they continued to act the way that they did. His boyfriend was one of those people; he could drink and not care about his action. He would even apologize for the things that he did but the very next day he would do those things again and it was just stupid the things that he would always do. He would tell Dixon so many lies and sometimes Dixon would believe them because he wanted to much for things to work out but he knew that deep down they never would and he had to realize that and fix things before they really got too bad, and he knew they were starting to become that way. He would look in the mirror, at all of his bruises and just feel so stupid and he would feel sorry for his self even. It was such a horrible way to feel to and he really hated to feel that way but he really couldn’t help but feel that way; he really did feel sorry for his self and his whole situation. He knew that his situation really sucked, and he was not going to try and sugar coat it for his self in any way because that was just silly, it was so silly even.
What was even sillier though was being so afraid; he always seemed to wonder just why he was so afraid all the time when his boyfriend never went too far. He always seemed to stop before things would get to bad; he never hurt him with the intent to kill him. Sure there were often times when he would beat him unconscious but that was different then beating him to death, he would wake up later on and everything would be just fine. His boyfriend would leave him alone for a few days to really let things cool down before he would be right on him again, and even worse this time. It was a never ending thing for him and he hated it, he hated always having to live a life unsure of whether or not you'd actually be living the next day or if you'd finally take your final breath. He was basically walking on eggshells now, waiting for the time to actually came and he had a feeling that it really was coming. People would seem to think he was over reacting, but he knew that he wasn't. He wiped more of his tears away quickly trying to regain control of his breathing but found it impossible. He coughed before looking at Sterling swallowing hard, "you are the only reason I keep fighting" he mumbled truthfully. There really was no lying to Sterling.
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Post by sterling oliver erstweiler on May 28, 2013 18:21:05 GMT -5
Sterling felt as if his extremities were turning to lead as he sat there and did the only thing that he could, hold his best friend. He felt so lost, he didn't know what he could do that wouldn't take a whole lot of time, and not knowing what to do was probably one of the scariest things he had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Normally he was so decisive- his decisions weren't always the greatest, but he went into things knowing what he was going to do and stick with it. This situation with Dixon and his boyfriend was turning his entire way of thinking on its head- it was a frightening concept to say the least.
And because he didn't have any experience with severely abusive situations, he was very much a fish out of water. He was clueless. His stomach twisted a little more, it was as if there were a multitude of invisible tiny hands each seizing it and twisting in varying directions. And the constricting feeling in his throat wasn't exactly helping matters, either. Sterling just wanted to make everything better- he wanted to see Dixon be safe and happy, and he wanted to see the horrible man that kept hurting him have the damage he inflicted on the blonde returned to him tenfold.
Ideally, Sterling would do the repayment himself. He wasn't the smartest guy around, but he knew it would be a stupid idea to initiate any sort of fight, even if he was almost overwhelmed with a desire to give the guy everything he had in an all-out, no-rules brawl. One that he would likely lose spectacularly, but in his mental fantasies he was a lot bigger and stronger, capable of handing that terrible man's ass to him. Sterling figured that if the situation really were to come to pass it would probably be the other way around. He wasn't all that strong, but he could be fast if he needed to be- that had to count for something.
If he hadn't been such a terrible student, he might have put his speed to use. A handful of gym teachers had expressed that he should try out for track or cross-country after they observed him running in class, but sterling wasn't sure if he was capable of that anymore because of his smoking. He wasn't excessive, he didn't cough up a lung at inopportune moments, but he did notice that if he ran for a long time he got shorter of breath than he ever used to. But it was a small price to pay in order to think straight and not have a nervous breakdown every other day.
Sterling thought back on his anxiety, he hadn't always been that way, had he? But for as long as he could remember he had always gotten more nervous than other people over trivial things, been more prone to overthinking things and finding problems to be bigger than what they were usually were. Though Sterling was generally resilient, able to bounce back from these experiences just in time to fall prey to another- though since he started smoking more regularly these instances had decreased- both in number and in severity, which was definitely something he was relieved about. He might not be of much use to Dixon now, but he would be even more worthless if he were to lapse into something of a mental breakdown. Sterling had full-blown one once, and it had been enough to put him out of commission for a week.
He couldn't even say for sure what had been the specific cause, but he had simply broken down in the middle of a school week- he'd had a panic attack so he'd been sent home, and he spent days after trying to recover, but at the same time not wanting to do anything but hide out under the covers of his bed and ignore the world around him entirely. Sterling did not want to be there again, especially when there really wasn't a good reason for it other than the fact that he just couldn't get his brain to stop ticking for an hour or two. So he would channel his uneasiness and all that nervous energy into something productive, something that might actually help Dixon, and right now that was hunting for a job.
Preferably one that would pay above minimum wage, that way he might be able to end Dixon's personal hell sooner. Though it seemed that no matter where he looked, that was the best that he could do. Sterling didn't have many desirable qualities when it came to getting hired. Sterling only barely had gotten a high school diploma, and he had next to no experience. Sure, he'd been at the movie theatre in town for almost two years, but most prospective employers didn't count that as much of anything. "Sweeping up popcorn" and "ticket tearing" weren't exactly valuable career skills. Perhaps if he were to add "working with assholes without killing them," and "refraining from strangling annoying customers" he might get more of a response. He just didn't know what more there was for him to do to improve both Dixon's situation, and his own.
What Sterling needed was time, and he wasn't sure just how much time he did have, and that was a more than frightening concept. Though when Dixon spoke, for once that evening he felt a surge of positive emotion. He was the reason that the blone was holding on, even when he had every right to give up on everything. That was something to feel proud about. Dixon meant so much to him... He gently squeezed the boy in his arms, and in feeling suddenly emboldened, placed a light kiss on top of his head. Whether or not that was a good move, Sterling didn't know, but it had felt right. He didn't know what to say, so instead he kept quiet, simply holding the man that meant so much to him.
((ooc: sorry it's short, i have no muse >.<))
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dixon everett conway
" i am in an abusive relationship, but i'm to scared to leave him. i know he'll kill me if i try. "
Posts: 17
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Post by dixon everett conway on May 29, 2013 23:03:10 GMT -5
When Dixon was little kid he had always dreamed of having a good future, when he was in school he was actually one of those kids that tried hard and got decent grades. He was that son that his parents were once proud of, and it wasn't in till he told them he was gay that things changed. He was told that he was not allowed in his house, and that he was a disgrace to his family which to Dixon was almost funny since he was once their beloved son. It showed him just how fake his family really was and honestly he hated his family for that, he hated his family for how they seemed to treat people. They treated people so awfully, and even as a kid he had to witness it and he hated the, for it. He was never the type of person to speak ill of other people because he knew that he would hate it if people were to speak ill of him, and so he found it just wasn't fair. He also knew that the other people really didn't do anything wrong anyway, they were just trying to live their lives and other people made that really difficult for them. Sometimes he hated people for that, he hated people just for their opinions and for what they had to say about other people. It was just so horrible, and it really wasn't fair that they could say something like that without really knowing someone. It wasn't like they even actually knew them, and that was what really made him sick the most, a lot seemed to just make him sick to his stomach.
Even his boyfriend seemed to have his opinions about people that he never met or that he didn't even know, and it was just horrible to think about. Dixon knew he wasn't the greatest person around but he didn't hold an opinion on someone that he hadn't even met because it felt wrong to him, it made him feel like a bad person. He was the type to meed a person first before he really grew an opinion of them, because he was all about the first impression being everything and that was just something that he really seemed to go by. It was really the nice thing to do when it all came down to it, and Dixon always tried to be a nice person no matter what. It was the main reason why he let people walk all over him, he just didn't know how to really act any other way. Dixon really wasn't a fighter, in fact he couldn't fight which was why he was never able to fight back when his boyfriend beat him. All he could really do was hide away and complain to his friends that his boyfriend was such an awful person and it was the truth, Dixon was not just over reacting like some people could say. He could count the bruises and the scars that he had on his body, and that would be enough proof to show that Dixon was not over reacting at all and there really was something very wrong going on at home and he hated it. He could remember so many times when he just wished that he could break down but he couldn't because if he did he would just looked weak and he didn't want to look weak, that was the last thing that he wanted.
He tried to be strong all the time and normally he was really good at it, he could hide how he was feeling for hours and no one would know anything was going on. He would then go home and just cry his self to sleep or feel sorry for his self because he was beaten down and he never did anything about it, he would turn to Sterling all the time just so he didn't lose his head completely and he knew that deep down it was really possible for him to just go and lose his head. He felt awful about his self a lot of the time, he felt like no one really seemed to actually understand him and most of all he just really felt alone and he hated having to feel that way sometimes because it was a horrible way to feel. He remembered when he was kicked out of his home and just how hard it was for him, he was having a lot more panic attacks in school because he really had no where to go sometimes. He was struggling just to find a place to spend the night some days and he really hated that, he hated the fact that he had to feel like such a burden staying with his friends. It wasn't fun feeling like a burden to people all the time, he even felt like a burden to Sterling. He would always turn to him for all of his problems and he almost felt selfish for that since he knew that other people out there had things so much worse than he did and here he was just always moping over his issues and sometimes he wasn't sure if he was just really stupid for doing so when he knew that he wasn't dead yet. Sure he knew that his chances for death were really good but as long as he wasn't dead he just shouldn't care, and he wasn't going to care.
A part of him wanted to say he was just done caring about life in general but he knew that he couldn't say that when he was trying to fight and live this all out for Sterling, he was the main reason he was still here. Without Sterling in his life he would have been dead by now and he knew that, he wasn't sure if he knew just how much he really meant to him but he really did mean so much to him. Sterling was the one person in his life he knew that he could always count on to be there, and he knew that he would never get tired of all of his whining like other people would. He listened to him and he actually seemed to care unlike everyone else he knew, and he just really loved that about him. It was just what seemed to make Sterling such a good friend, he was a really good, a really really good friend.He bit down on his lip when Sterling kissed the top of his head and smiled, "Sterling thank you, that's all I can really say" he said quietly trying to think of just the right words. "You are really a great friend, you actually listen to me when other people wouldn't and you care about me which is obviously something neither my parents or really anyone can do. They just seem to see the fact that I like guys and that's it, they don't care about the type of person I truly am. The fact I'm gay is all that matters" he sounded unhappy just saying that and he was unhappy.
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