Page 33 of Working Out West

“No, no, no, no.” I was naked.

Naked.

I reared back, only to cry out and fall forward. Chains rattled, tears blurring my vision, but I still saw and felt them. Cold steel wrapped around my wrists, the chains bolted to the ground, keeping me in place.

“Please, please, no,” I begged the silent room.

I glanced around at the shelves, the food on them, the bench next to it, the only light shining down in the dingy, cold room.

Why?

Why the fuck was I chained naked in my parents’ basement?

A basement I had always been scared of because my father used to lock me down here when I’d done something wrong. He made me read from the bible over and over until my throat hurt.

“Mom? Dad?” I yelled. Anger filled me, warmed me. They’d gone too far. Way too fucking far. They were crazy. I didn’t want anything to do with them. Never again.

I heard footsteps. A door opened and closed before the one to the basement opened. More pounding footsteps down the stairs. I tried to glance over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see who it was.

I rattled the chains. “You’re nuts. This is fucking crazy. Let me go,” I yelled.

“You will be cleansed,” Dad replied, almost robotically.

“What are you talking about? Is this because of my job? I don’t do anything with those men.”

“Lies,” he screamed. “You let them touch you.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did. It’s wrong. You’re wrong. We can’t have that. God won’t allow something like you in Heaven until your sins are purged from you.”

“What are you talking about? Working isn’t a sin. Being gay isn’t a sin. You’re the one who’s wrong. I’m not. I’m normal. I’m fine the way I am.”

“You repulse us.Wewill make you clean” came Mom’s voice. I hadn’t heard her approach. She moved beside me as she placed a tray on the bench.

“Mom, no, what are you talking about? Please, please stop this.” My voice cracked, tears welling.

I wasn’t wrong.

I wasn’t a sin.

My actions weren’t sins.

I just wanted to be accepted. I wanted a happy life—one filled with love.

I was normal. I was.

“Stop,please. There’s nothing wrong with me. There isn’t.” A sob tore out of me. I thumped the ground with the chains. “I’m normal. I am!”

My heart cracked. It dripped blood from an old wound. One my parents had inflicted. One I had healed by being away from them, but it was the same one they were opening again. They were breaking me.

“You will be clean. You will be after we’re done with you,” Mom stated.

I glanced up to a mother who never loved me—a mother who only saw faults.

“Don’t do this, please, Mom.Please.”

Her upper lip raised in a silent snarl as she watched my tears flow down my cheeks. “You’re dirty, boy. God won’t have you the way you are.”

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