Chapter 6 Chapter 6: A home is not a house

Milo

"Please, Dolores. This is an important book. I had an important test, and I need that information – "

“Milo, for heaven’s sake! I can’t keep sneaking into your room all the time. If Blake is hurting you, we need to talk to someone directly," she insisted.

We were standing near the entrance to my dorm building. I couldn't make myself go inside. I was terrified. I still didn’t understand why he hadn’t followed me or hit me that day.

There were mornings when I woke up unable to believe any of it had actually happened. Actually, that wasn’t true. It was every morning. Nightmares haunted some days, while others brought embarrassingly vivid wet dreams. So fucking hot.

Because panic wouldn’t let me step inside, I kept sending my dear friend in my place when he wasn´t around.

"Maybe he’s not that bad... maybe..." Emma suggested, though she usually stayed quiet whenever we talked about Blake. Dolores and I gave her a look that left absolutely no room for doubt.

"Believe me when I say it, girl: That man is a demon. We didn’t just have a sad life; sad doesn’t even begin to cover it. School was hell. I cannot emphasize enough what a nightmare it is for Milo to have him as a roommate," my friend insisted, and I nodded in agreement.

"Okay, but there has to be some solution. Maybe we should talk to him."

"I'm not talking to him!" I snapped, crossing my arms.

"You can’t reason with someone like that," said Dolores. "I do agree with Emma, though, that we need to find a solution. You can’t stay in our room untiil graduation," she added.

Sometimes it felt like he was watching me from a distance. I thought I spotted him several seats away in class, but whenever I turned to look, he was gone. I could have sworn I saw him multiple times in the cafeteria, too. He felt like some kind of shadow. Maybe I was simply becoming paranoid and losing my mind.

I spent most of my time studying in the library or in any quiet corner I could find. At night, as soon as darkness settled over campus, I slipped into the girls’ dormitories. I had become friends with many of the girls, so nobody was particularly shocked to see me around.

The rumor that I was gay had probably already spread as well.

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked.

Dolores shrugged, and Emma remained silent. A little while later, my friend returned with the things I had asked her to get.

As the days passed, I slowly began to accept that this would be my life for the rest of my time there.

“Please, Milo. You have to tell me what’s going on. We’re friends, aren’t we? You know I’ll always be here for you," said Dolores as she sat beside me after a quick dinner.

I sighed. I hadn’t wanted to tell her the truth, all of it. The conversation was going to be difficult in more ways than one.

"Please tell me what that guy did to you."

I found the courage to tell him.

"Blake kissed me," I said quietly. She stared at me in shock.

"I must’ve heard that wrong."

"He kissed me. At the bar and before that..."

"Wait, this happened before? Was it consensual?"

"He cornered me. And before that, he touched me."

"What the hell?!"

"You know that I... that me and the girls—" I said nervously. She immediately took my hand.

"I know, baby. As I said, I’ll support you no matter what. But if this man is crossing lines with you, then none of this makes sense. He used to mock you. He and his group treated you horribly so many times!"

God, it felt good just to say it out loud.

"I know this is going to sound strange, but he made me feel things," I admitted. Her expression shifted into an even deeper state of confusion.

"Maybe it's because it's your first time experiencing something like this. I understand why you don't want to go back to the room."

"Everything about this is strange. He’s trying to manipulate me." Then, I explained everything that had happened in detail.

It felt like a crushing weight had finally been lifted from my chest. By the end, I was overwhelmed, half-curled against her as she held me.

“I’ll help you, I promise. There has to be a way for you to switch rooms."

It sounded like a logical plan, but I already had the sinking feeling that it was a sentence I couldn’t escape.

My situation had become so unbearable that during the first holiday break, I considered going home. It would only be the weekend and an extra day.

Maybe it would help me think more clearly.

Soon enough, you’ll understand why that was a mistake.

The dirt road leading to the farm looked worse than I remembered. The bus dropped me off several miles away, and I had to walk the rest of the way, carrying my bag, while cold wind slapped my face and stirred up dry dust around me.

Finally, the house emerged between the trees, crooked and aging beneath a gray sky. Several boards on the barn looked ready to fall apart, and one of the fences had completely collapsed. Everything was worse. So much worse.

I stood there for several seconds, staring at the farm and seized by the ridiculous urge to turn around and head back to the road. College wasn't exactly a refuge, especially with Blake breathing down my neck like an impossible obsession. But at least there, I could pretend my life was moving toward something better.

If only things had been different...

The moment my foot touched the porch, I heard shouting inside the house.

Nothing had changed.

My body trembled as though it remembered everything my mind desperately tried to forget.

The kitchen was a mess. Dirty dishes overflowed from the sink, and empty bottles were scattered across the table. My mother stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot, not looking at me as I walked in.

"Milo..." She didn't sound happy.

"Yeah, the bus got here a little while ago," I replied, setting my bag by the door.

Then I saw him. My father was sitting beside the table with a dark expression on his face and a pair of crutches resting nearby. His left foot was immobilized, and a dirty bandage protruded from beneath his pants leg.

For a moment, I forgot my fear and stepped closer.

"What happened?"

My father was still young, but there had always been something brutal about him that terrified me. He was tall and broad-shouldered with an unkempt beard and permanently hardened eyes.

"Now you care? You said you’d come back to help us. Look at us now," he spat. I swallowed hard.

"I just asked what happened. Remember what I told you—"

“You insolent boy! I had to do your damn job because the little prince got a scholarship and abandoned his family. Everything’s gone to hell ever since you left."

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