Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2006 20:54:00 -0800 (PST)
From: Gay Writer <gaywriter72@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Invisible

The following is a complete work of fiction.

Any resemblance between the characters or places and real life is completely
coincidental.  Please do not copy or distribute the story without the author's
permission.

Disclaimer:

The following story contains erotic homosexual situations.  If it is
illegal for you to read this please leave now.


			       The Invisible
			By gaywriter72 AKA Shannon


      The sound of crunching leaves played under my feet as I trudged down
the cracked sidewalk towards Daniel's house.  I kept my eyes on the ground,
watching my frayed pant legs swish against the frost glazed concrete.  A
cold dry morning breeze pushed against me causing a shiver to roll through
my body and I pulled my black hooded sweatshirt tighter around myself.  A
grayed page of our local newspaper swooped past me.  It fluttered against
the brown dead limbs of a nearby bush, long enough for me to read the words
'Hate Crime', before it tore loose and danced away.

      "Great!" I thought to myself.  "Just what this hell hole
needs... more publicity.  God I hate this fucking town."

      My parents had moved to small town of New Winsor during the summer of
1999.  Unfortunately, they had to haul me with them.  Problems between my
father's side of the family and my mother made it nearly impossible for us
to continue living in Kolina.  My father's family were the kind of people
who kept their wives home.  They were to do as they were told.  My mother
disagreed, and that was the end of it.  She was right, they were wrong.

      I was fourteen and going into my freshman year of high school when we
moved to New Winsor.  I had friends at my old school.  I was somewhat
popular.  I had a life!  That came to a crashing end when we arrived in
this corn fed purgatory.  My life had become a little piece of hell.  I had
made a couple of attempts to talk with the local wild life of this new
town, but the reception had been cold, cruel and filled with disdain.  I
was an outsider.

      When school started, I was well aware no one wanted to know me.
Moreover, I became a fun new target for their harassment and abuse.  The
name calling, slams against lockers between class, and punches when
teachers' eyes were turned, had beaten me down into a shell of myself.
Unfortunately for Daniel, and luckily for me, he had been my predecessor,
and was still a target of their bullying when I wasn't conveniently
available.

      After school began my first year here, Daniel Johnson and I
gravitated toward each other like kindred spirits.  We suffered the same
grueling fate of torment, and later found we had much in common.  We shared
similar tastes in music, computer games, clothes, and after a few months of
beating around the bush, sex.  We were both gay.  It was one of so very few
joys we had.  Neither of us ever seemed to think much beyond getting off.
We weren't in love.  We were more in lust.  We had fun together, and were
the best of friends.

      The struggle and pain of each day kept us focused on now.  The future
seemed impossibly far away.  I would like to say I survived the last two
and a half years, but the truth was, I had only existed.  A body can't take
that much physical and mental abuse and not begin to fray at the edges.  I
am sixteen now and in my Junior year.  Another year and a half until
graduation stretched before me like an eternity in my mind.  I dreaded
every single minute.  It did give me the slightest glimmer of hope, but
that hope was regularly beaten out of me.

      I wandered my way down the cold sidewalk, only lifting my eyes when
crossing the street, for the five blocks it took to get to Daniel's house.
The sound of someone's truck rumbled louder and louder from behind me
before I heard someone yell "FAGGOT".  The whoosh of air made me flinch as
a it sped past.  I stopped at the end of the sidewalk next to Daniel.

      It was difficult to tell which of us was the least noticeable.  It
had almost been a competition as to which of us could dress the most drab
to better blend into our surroundings.  It wasn't a competition though.
For us it had become a survival technique.  If they didn't notice you, they
would leave you alone.  I liked to think Daniel's short exotic red-orange
hair, pale complexion, and nearly skeletal frame, made him more noticeable
than me.  He was short, and though not necessarily handsome, I thought
cute.  His lips were nearly pink, and the brownish orange freckles that
dotted his ghostly white body excited me.

      Daniel lifted his green gold-flecked eyes to me.  He peered at me
from inside the hood of an almost exact copy of the black sweatshirt I
wore.

      "Hey Daniel."  I stood bouncing in place trying to stay warm.

      "Heya Steve.  Another day in paradise." He sighed.

      "Yep... just doesn't get any better than this," I answered, feeling
an empty sorrow fill my stomach.

      We were a cookie cutter image of the ordinary.  I wasn't as
wraith-like as Daniel, but I was still thin.  My light brown shoulder
length hair and murky brown eyes were nothing spectacular.  I was lucky to
have fairly clear skin, but was at that awkward adolescent stage of growth.
I had grown to about six foot this past summer, but hadn't filled out with
the muscles that seemed to complete the maturity of an older body.  My nose
was slightly larger than I liked, and my ears seemed to stick out at odd
angles.  My glasses only seemed to accent these imperfections.  Maybe no
one else noticed.  I tended to zero in on my flaws daily as I brushed my
teeth in front of the bathroom mirror.  I was average in almost every sense
of the word, unlike some of the more muscled jocks that I stole glances at
in the gym locker room.

      Another gust of dry cold air buffeted against us bringing the smell
of dirt and dried leaves.  I did love this time of year.  In October, it
was cool enough in Illinois, that you could wear thin layers of clothes and
never sweat.  The once green leaves that littered the frozen ground had
changed to bright reds and golds.  It was only fifty-two degrees, but the
weatherman promised a near perfect day of seventy.  I'll believe it when I
see it.

      It was Wednesday, October 31st, 2001, meaning another arduous day of
high school.  Alwin High was a two-story relic built in the early 60's,
made of red brick, asbestos tile, and radiator heat.  The building seemed
to breathe in and out a century of dust.  The rooms were made with tall
fifteen foot ceilings showing exposed wiring and sometimes plumbing,
depending which floor you were exiled to.  The dark hardwood flooring made
even a small group of people sound like a herd of cattle as they walked
down its ancient echoing hallways.  Everything about this section of school
screamed antique.

      In the mid 70's Alfa and New Winsor combined school districts,
prompting an expansion of the high school.  The school was extended
outward, tripling in size.  The newer part of the school was built with a
different style and color of brick, stretching nearly two blocks in length.
The newer part of the school, which attached to its ancient counterpart,
began with a large gymnasium, principal's office, cafeteria, and nursing
office.  A long hallway lined with tall green lockers extended beyond this.
The lockers were interrupted with doors to classrooms on either side before
ending at the school's inadequate library.  The classrooms had eight
windows that would let too much cold through when winter arrived.

      My class had a grand total of thirty-nine clickish teenagers.  It was
a small town of small minds with a small school and today was my weekly
appointment with the traveling psychologist.  Once a week she would visit
our school in the circuit she traveled in corn country.  Her name was
Linda, and even though she was very kind, I hated her.  Well, I didn't
really hate her.  I hated the fact that my parents agreed to the school's
request for me to see her.  I hated the fact that I would be pulled from
the middle of class, earning the stares of everyone as I exited the room.
They all knew where I was going and it brought too much unwanted attention.
They didn't need any more ammo for their brutal artillery of cruelty.  So,
no, I didn't hate Linda, she was just the unfortunate target of my anger
and humiliation.

      Do I need therapy?  You're damn right I need therapy and I've earned
it!  Hell!  Maybe if my father would quit beating the shit out of me and
leaving so many goddamned embarrassing bruises, then I wouldn't need to go!
It had been good enough for him as a boy, and by god... a fist to the face
or a 2x4 across the back was good for me too!  I pray for my death nightly
and during the beatings, hoping that one day he'll go to jail for my
murder.  Whoops! Guess you shouldn't have bashed me in the face with the
butt of that gun.

      Luckily I had become an expert at writing doctors' excuses and other
bits of forgery.  It was yet another skill gained by necessity.  This
helped me escape gym class when the bruises on my back and legs might be
seen.  Black eyes and minor cuts and abrasions were never difficult to
explain.  I had so many from home and school that no one even asked.  It's
amazing the amount of damage a body can take if you spread it out just
right.  My soul though, felt like it had been wounded beyond repair.

      I remembered a poem I had written the night before.

      	My tears fall on the inside.
      	My eyes forever dry.
      	My pain never outside.
      	I'm too big to cry.

      I put it in an envelope in my computer desk drawer in case I get my
wish someday.  I want it to be my epitaph.  I pray it will be sooner rather
than later.

      This had been another thing Daniel and I had in common.  It seemed
our fathers were kindred spirits as much as we were.  Their ideals and
common ground on discipline were nearly identical in practice.  Where my
parents stopped here, his continued on.  His father was an adept alcoholic.
He wasn't just good at drinking, he was an expert.  His mother was a
cracked out banshee.  Their screams could be heard nearly three houses away
as they fought through the night.  On particularly bad nights, Daniel would
sneak to my house and I'd let him in through my window.  The following
morning was always a toss up.  We watched to see which of his parents, if
not both, would emerge from the house battered and bruised.

      It amazes me how they can walk out their front door acting as though
nothing was wrong and the previous night had never happened.  The fat, poor
excuse of our town's only policeman had even changed his nightly route.  He
now avoided our street entirely.  The cop, who we called Enis the Penis,
knew the way to Daniel's house all too well.  He had been summoned
countless times by the neighbors to restore the peace.  They only wanted
the quiet so they could continue watching their nightly sitcoms without
distraction.  In reality, better entertainment could be found outside some
nights as Daniels' parents would take their drunken, doped up brawls to
their front lawn.

      "How about we ditch first period study hall and hang out in the small
gym bathroom for a little fun," I suggested, looking at his hunched figure.

      "I think that's an excellent idea," Daniel said, letting out a
mischievous chuckle.  "Just don't fuck up on the excuse this time.  Last
time you spelled my mom's name wrong."

      "Yeah... sorry about that, man.  I didn't mean to get you detention."
I hiked the heavy book bag up higher on my back.

      "No worries dude.  My mom was so fucking high when they called her,
she didn't even remember it when I got home.  All she did was bitch cuz I
was late." He chuckled as he pulled the remaining unbroken strap of his
backpack over his right shoulder.

      "She wanted her fucking dinner.  Like it's that fucking hard to throw
a TV dinner in the microwave."  He heaved out a sound of disgust.

      "Well... actually."  I hung on the last word for effect grinning as I
looked into his green eyes.

      "Shut up dude... that's not funny.  She almost burned down the
fucking house."  Daniel punched my shoulder.

      I laughed while rubbing away the pain.  This past Labor Day Daniel's
mom had decided to make a nice family dinner.  The food stamps had come
through and she had gone on a shopping spree.  She started cooking early
that morning.  By noon, she was so high she forgot the now charcoal bird in
the oven, and the kitchen was filled with smoke and flames.  When Daniel's
father came home he seemed more pissed that the fire trucks had left him no
place to park than the fact his house had nearly burned to the ground.
Then again, he had been at the bar since noon and it was past seven when he
pulled up to the house.  He staggered out of his truck with a twelve pack
latched to his hand.  He made it as far as the green frayed lawn chair in
their front yard, sat down, cracked open a beer and watched the show.  It's
no wonder we both have weekly appointments with the rent-a-shrink.

      We trudged along another couple of blocks before hearing the school
bell ring in the distance.  We were going to be late, but what the hell.
We were cutting first period anyway.  We turned the corner and continued up
the street toward the old section of the school.  It loomed in the distance
like the red brick prison it was.  There were only a couple of old yellowed
windows on this side of the building so we didn't worry too much about
being caught.  No one could see through the decades of crud even if they
did try to peer out.  Reaching the school, our last hurdle was the dirt
road that led to the back of the school where gym class would be held.
Jocks and geeks were gathering, wearing t-shirts and shorts, freezing their
nuts off.

      We paused behind the lilac bush at the corner of Sweeny's fenced in
yard and looked through its thinning branches to see if it was safe.
Nodding to Daniel we jogged over the dirt road and across the school lawn
to the side entrance of the school.  We pulled on the heavy wooden door and
entered.  We made our way down the steps as quietly as we could in case a
stray teacher might be making some last minute copies in the office above.
The small gym, as we called it, was in the basement of the old school and a
long hallway went along its edge to a nearly forgotten shower and bathroom
area now used more for storage of paper and school supplies.

      I pushed the creaking door open and listened to make sure I heard no
movement inside.  Someone could be taking an early piss break.  I didn't
hear anything and proceeded into the dark concrete and brick locker room.
Quietly, I peaked around into the showers and then into the restroom.  The
coast was clear.  I walked into the old shower alcove that was the center
of the two rooms.  I always wondered why they only had two showers.  How
the hell did everyone get washed if there were only two showers??  Sure
they were five foot by five foot, but there was only one fucking showerhead
in each.

      This had become our hideaway at school when we wanted to trade
blowjobs or have a smoke.  We didn't usually kiss much unless we were
stoned.  It just seemed too gay, I suppose, and we weren't comfortable with
it yet.  At least I wasn't.  There was still some small piece of me that
wished I were normal and so I hibernated in denial.

      We didn't waste any time.

      The bell rang, signaling the end of the period.  We both nearly
jumped out of our shoes.  Daniel quickly stuffed himself back into his
pants and fastened them.  We were nearly out of the shower alcove when the
door burst open slamming against the brick wall.  We ran back and hid.

      "Move it faggot.  Get in there," an angry voice commanded.  It
sounded like someone had fallen into the boxes against the far wall.

      "That's right, get on your knees.  That's where all you fags wanna
be."

      It sounded like one of the Peterson boys but I wasn't sure which one.
Their parents had squeezed out five of them.  They were all boys and looked
as though someone had cloned the same person at different ages.

      We heard a zipper, the rustle of fabric and then a slight grunt.

      "Watch the teeth, Goddamnit.  I thought you queers were supposed to
be good at this," the angry voice said again.

      I started to creep out of the shower when Daniel grabbed my wrist,
shooting me a look saying 'Are you fucking crazy!?'  I waved him off and
snuck out to the edge of the shower divider.  Low grunts and groans filled
the room as the sloppy sounds of someone giving head echoed off the brick
walls.  I crouched low and took a quick peak around the corner.

      I couldn't see who it was, but I could definitely tell what was going
on.  One of the Peterson boys was facing away from me.  All I could see was
the back of him and the movement of someone else kneeling in front of him
at his crotch.

      "That's it.  Suck that senior jock cock," he groaned.  "You like that
big meat don't you fag."  A different muffled sound moaned 'mmm mmm.'

      I looked back to Daniel as he crouched against the wall of the
shower.  He mouthed the words "WHO IS IT?!" I shrugged back and mouthed "I
DON'T KNOW!"  Daniel finally built up the courage to join me at the
concrete partition and peaked around the side.  He snapped back wide eyed
and suddenly all the sound stopped in the room.  FUCK! We were busted!  My
heart skipped a beat before I heard the sounds of sex again and I let out
the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

      "Get ready faggot... here comes my load." He moaned and growled
louder than I would have thought was safe.  The angry voice gave several
grunts and then there was only the sound of rapid breath.

      "Not bad pussy boy.  I'll have to use you again," the voice said,
panting.

      The next sounds were a zipper and a door slamming open and shut.  We
listened as whoever was left gave a few short high pitched moans before
there was only the sound of quick breaths again.  A zipper went up and then
the door slammed open again crashing against the concrete wall.  Damn that
was close.

      I peaked around the partition to make sure everyone had gone.  I
grinned seeing the crushed lid of the box where the boy had originally
landed.

      The second bell sounded to let everyone know that if you weren't
already in class... your ass was late.

      "Let's wait a couple of minutes and then get the fuck out of here," I
whispered.

      "Day off?"  Daniel asked.

      "Day off."  I nodded.

      We left the same way we came, and made our way across town to the gas
station where Daniel's sister Suzie worked.  This hadn't been our first
time ditching and we knew she'd let us crash at her house.  Suzie had
gotten knocked up at sixteen and moved out of the house shortly thereafter.
She was divorced already, but luckily only stuck with the one kid.  Suzie
was another fine specimen, proving why people should need a license to be
parents.  Hers had fucked her up and she had taken the first opportunity to
escape.  I couldn't blame her.  She was actually pretty cool and seemed to
be more with it than the rest of Daniels' family.  Where I was an only
child, Daniel had seven brothers and sisters of which he was the youngest
and last still living at home.

      When we finally got there, the gas station looked pretty packed and
we didn't want to risk getting caught.

      "Shit, she won't care... let's just crash at her house for a few
hours," Daniel said.

      "Sounds good to me man," I answered.

      Her house was just a couple of blocks away.  We went in.  The radio
was playing, and for once, there was something decent playing.  It was some
rock band I didn't recognize.  Daniel landed on the sofa chair as I plopped
down on the dilapidated couch.  We sat there sprawled out just relaxing
before we started our yawning wars.  He'd yawn, then I would.  I'd yawn
again, and then he would.

      "Okay Dude, I'm gonna take a nap," Daniel said with another yawn.

      "Good idea." I yawned back resting my head against an ugly brown
stained pillow and pulled the tattered afghan from the back of the couch to
cover me.

      I had this thing about being covered when I slept.  Mostly it was
because I know how I usually woke up, hard, horny, and needing to piss.  I
watched Daniel roll against the uneven cushions trying to get comfortable.
I kicked off my shoes and let them fall to the floor with a thud.  I can't
sleep with shoes on.

      Several hours later, I opened my eyes, listening to the radio before
remembering where I was.

      "It's Halloween folks.  Better grab your crucifix!" the DJ announced
before another song began.

      "Steve get up... it's almost 3:30.  We're due home and Suzie will be
off work soon," he said urgently.

      The last thing either of us needed was to get busted for skipping
school.  The thought of it snatched me from my sleep.  I adjusted myself
and threw the afghan back on the sofa.  I pulled on my black high tops and
left the laced untied.  Who cared anyway...  I was just going to take them
off again.  We jogged and walked our way back toward home.

	"Hey... tell your mom you're coming over to my place, and I'll tell
mine I'm going to be hanging with you.  Meet me in the cemetery," I
suggested.

	"Okay," Daniel said with a nod.

	We parted ways and made for opposite ends of our street.  I went
through the gate and removed my backpack so I could make a quick get away.
I circled the house and went to the back door that led into the kitchen.
My room was just off to the side.  I didn't see my dad, so I snuck in the
door as my mom was rushing about fixing dinner.  I passed her, avoiding eye
contact, and dumped my backpack on my bed.  I went back to the kitchen as
quietly as I could.  I did NOT want him to know I was home before I was
able to make my escape.  He'd never fucking let me out on Halloween night.
I practically ran past my mom.

	"I'm going to hang out with Daniel tonight mom.  See you later," I
announced as I went through the back door.

	"Hey...!" I heard my dad growl as the door shut out his voice.

	FUCK... I had to run.  He'd come yelling out the door and if I
didn't move my ass he would see me.  He'd know, without a doubt, I was
ignoring him.  As it was, I was probably going to get the shit knocked out
of me.  Better later than sooner.

	I cut through a few yards and made my way two blocks over to the
cemetery behind the Catholic Church.  Daniel was already there leaning his
ass against one of the headstones.

	"You got here fast," I said jogging up to him.

	"I didn't even go in the door.  I just threw my backpack over the
fence into the backyard.  That fat bitch can make her own fucking dinner
for a change," he muttered back at me.  "Took you long enough
though. Damn!"

	"Hey... it's not like that for me.  You know I have to at least try
to make it look like not hearing my dad was an accident.  The last time he
beat my ass I think he broke a fucking rib!"  I snapped back.

      "Okay... okay... damn dude... calm down," he whined.

      This had been another one of our places.  We spent many a night
walking the paved lanes of this cemetery.  It was usually quiet and no one
bothered us.  There was no fence protecting it like you would find in a
larger city.  The people of this town respected the cemetery, if nothing
else.

      Daylight Savings time had rolled back last Sunday and the shorter
days were already gone when 6:30 came around.  Night had fallen as we
continued to walk in silence with intermittent bursts of conversation about
life in general.  We meandered our way through the cemetery and watched
trick-or-treaters run from house to house collecting piles of candy.  As
the evening stretched on, the kids on the streets thinned until almost
everyone had gone home to sleep.  An occasional whoop or yell could be
heard in the distance as heathen teenagers had their fun.  It was getting
colder and I suggested we head home.  Coming home before midnight might
save us both a beating.  We trudged along the side streets before turning
onto ours.  We were about a block from his house when we heard the distant
screaming and yelling.  Daniel's parents
	were at it again and in full force.

      Daniel gave me a look that told me we needed to make another lap or
two around the block.  We turned off at the next intersection and moved
away from our street.  I was shivering from the cold.  My breath made
little white clouds.  He needed a moment to think, and then we'd go to my
house.  With him in tow I might just have a chance at avoiding a punch to
the face from my father.

      "Dude, I fucking hate my life," Daniel said breaking the silence.

      "I know man... Pray for death," I answered.

      "I do... Trust me I do," he mumbled.

      The cold pushed us to take a shortcut leading back to our street.  We
turned, walking down the barely lit alley behind the grocery store.  The
bells in the First Methodist Church tower chimed telling us it was
midnight.

      "Time to die faggots!" said a familiar angry voice as something
slammed into the base of my skull.

      I remember curling up in the fetal position trying to protect myself
as pain blasted throughout my body.  Dull thuds and cries of anguish filled
the night before everything vanished.

      My eyes opened as the sound of rustling paper drew my attention.  I
was frozen and aching.  I had been stripped naked and so had Daniel.  He
lay motionless in the curve of my body.  The street light blinked to life
with a buzz and I saw the newspaper as the wind pressed it against the
fence.

      	HOMOSEXUAL HATE CRIME DOUBLE MURDER

      Today marks the fifth anniversary of the double homicide of two
alleged homosexual students at Winsor High School.  Daniel Johnson and
Steve Atkinson were found bludgeoned to death five years ago today in the
alley behind the Special K Supermarket in New Winsor.  The case is still
open and the killer presumed at large.

      The story continued in much smaller print.

	October 31st, 2001 was a special day.  The full moon would not
light the sky on Halloween again until the year 2020.  Our prayers had been
answered.  We had been killed that Halloween night five years ago.

	"See ya next year Daniel." I heard my voice echo through the alley
as I put my arm around him.

	"Later Steve." He answered pulling me closer.

	The distant chime of the church tower ended.  A breeze sent the
nearby autumn leaves into spirals and then there was nothing.

 - - -

This is a dark story.  I hope it makes you think about the people around
you and how you treat them.  Please submit comments and criticism to
gaywriter72@yahoo.com.  This was specifically written for
www.gayauthors.org as my fall anthology submission, but I think maybe you'd
like a fun Halloween story as well.  Let me know what you think.  Thanks!