Ok Bambi4real I've translated the prologue of my french fiction! I didn't know you knew some french words!!! Anyway, if you read this, please leave a review...It means a lot to me...

I give some warnings before reading this story : it's quite a dark story with some violent themes, offending material and homosexuality...Please if you don't like that don't read!

I'm not used to write such dark stories but it won't be always like that, since the main plot in this story is how our main character struggles through. At least there's some hope (hehe hope is embodied by a special person who'll appear later...). It's not completly dark!

Prologue

I knew it. Rotten day. I’ve a sixth sense for that kind of things. I feel a sudden pain in my stomach; my insides are tight with fear and I feel sick! I knew it. And, at the far end of the hallway, a group of guys is walking with a confident step, rippling their muscles. I’m cold all of a sudden. Shudders. Fuck! They’ve seen me! I know them. I know them too well. I’m really ill. I’m scared stiff and I just stupidly stand there like a dummy. Fear’s pinning me down and I watch them arriving. And they surround me. I’ve a feeling it’ll be a funny meeting. No kidding! They’re going to cut my throat literally.

The taller of all, a real stupid lout, with a pea in his nut instead of brain, is staring at me with piggy eyes, and he’s grinning from ear to ear, that bastard, baring his teeth as white as a washbasin. He certainly thinks it’s really funny. But I don’t feel like laughing. Scapegoats usually don’t laugh. It’s a long-standing friendship. The guy’s name’s Maurice. Maurice. I may even make fun of this lousy first name. Well, but I’d better not annoy him. So, be calm and shut up.

“Hey! Tom! So you're taking a stroll then?”, he says with his manly and deep voice. The two others are sniggering. I shiver a little more. I’ve my heart in my mouth and I can’t answer. “You don’t want to talk to me?”, he pursues. I don’t like the nasty glint in his eyes. “We’re always polite people, Tom. When we meet a friend, we greet him.” He’s fixedly staring at me and it makes my blood run cold. “How about giving you a special gift ?” I’m still not replying. I remain as silent as the grave. And then, they start, or rather they’re doing it again, since I’m used to it.

Maurice, my friend forever, beckons to one of his guys, an aggressive little redhead, but who has an iron grip. Appearances are deceptive. Always. The little redhead positions himself behind me. The little shit brutally seizes my arms to fold them behind my back. He’s firmly gripping them. I’m waiting. I know what will happen after that. It doesn’t come as a surprise. Well, the problem is that I always freak out. I swallow but my throat is dry. My saliva slips down with difficulty. Don’t panic. Don’t show that you’re scared. I don’t give a shit. I’m indifferent. It’s all talk. I’m nervously watching Maurice. His smile is really radiant. Let the festivities begin! Everybody is pleased except me.

It’s a pretty sight. It’s strange but I don’t want to take part in this interesting show. Oh well, Maurice doesn’t care. One of his guys is coming up to me, a blond with blue eyes, he looks like an angel. A first punch is crashing against my stomach and I’m completely doubled up with searing pain. Then, I cannot count the blows anymore. It’s beating down on me like a nice spring rain. I get punched in my ribs, again in my stomach, and then two powerful punches pounce on my face. My glasses fall out. I can’t breathe anymore. My vision becomes really blurred. I spit blood. The little redhead’s hands are strongly squeezing my wrists to prevent me from getting away. I can tell you I try to free myself…I fucking try. But I don’t succeed.

It’s Maurice’s turn. It’ll end with a flourish. But it’s not the final I was waiting for. I violently shiver. “No…don’t do that!” I piteously say. Maurice smiles even more. He has just taken out his razor. I don’t like that. I’m trembling all over. I begin to really panic. I try to kick him. I’m fidgeting. But the little redhead doesn’t break his hold. Maurice is so close. “You know, Tom, if you’re moving like that, you might hurt yourself…” Oh, I’m very touched by all these kind gestures. He cuts my tee-shirt and I stop suddenly, following with my frightened eyes the blade which is traveling over my naked chest. I puff and pant. The blade is going a little more in my skin and Maurice is happily drawing blood trails.

“What are you doing?” a voice suddenly says. Maurice withdraws his razor. I sigh with relief. I look up. I feel a pang. It’s him. I can see him even if my vision is a little blurred. Jeff. I’ve fallen in love with him since the beginning. He’s haunting me. I’ve drooled over him. Short brown hair, hazel eyes, dream-like body, tanned skin.

Maurice answers: “We’re sorting him out.”. “I can see it.” Jeff replies. I don’t dare meet his eyes and I think I’m blushing with shame. “In the locker rooms, he’s eying up naked guys.” Maurice adds. I bow my head even more. “He’s a queer?” Jeff says, surprised. Silence.

Somebody is coming up to me. I continue watching the floor. The little redhead grips my hair and pulls back my head. I can see Jeff ahead me. We’re facing each other. “Can I have a good time too?” Jeff says with a mocking tone. I can’t believe it. I implore him with my eyes. He’s coldly staring at me. The others are sniggering again. You bunch of idiots! “Down on your knees.” Jeff pursues. I don’t understand. The little redhead seems to have understood. He hits hard my legs and forces me to kneel down. When Jeff begins undoing his fly, I realize then what will happen. It breaks my heart. I can’t believe it he’s doing that. It’s not Jeff. It can’t be him. “Taste.” He adds. His smile is cruel. I can’t. I want to cry. The little redhead pushes my head closer. “You’re used to it though. Open your mouth.” The same merciless voice continues ordering. Laughing. I don’t open my mouth. Then, Jeff forces my jaws to part. And I taste. Faces are glowed with joy. It’s really entertaining. Insults come from all sides. Jeff is going more into my mouth. I’m choking. He seems very pleased since he’s letting out sighs of pleasure. After a last thrust, he cries out in delight. My mouth is dirty. I wipe the white substance which is trickling. He zips up his fly. “You’re a good fuck, you know.” He calmly says. The little redhead lets go of me. The blond is showing an expression of disgust on his face. Maurice continues smiling, greatly amused. And Jeff brilliantly concludes “What a good day!”. Laughing again. And they leave.

I’m looking for my glasses. They’re broken. I sigh and I try to stand up. I almost fall. I’m unsteady on my legs. The pain in my ribs is unbearable. I’m leaning against the wall and I’m slowly heading for the lavatory. Each step is torture but I finally succeed. I enter and I’m going up to the washbasin. I turn the faucet on and I rinse my mouth out many times. The taste doesn’t go. I take some toilet paper and I try to wipe my bloody chest. I have some hideous hematomas. I’m looking at myself in the mirror. My face is badly bashed up. I’ve already enormous bruises. It looks like flowers. I smile a little, the reflection too. Green eyes, not very short black hair, quite an oval face. I’m skinny and I’m always wearing black clothes. I grip the rim of the washbasin and I suddenly say in a cracked voice, speaking to my reflection: “Hi! My name’s Thomas and welcome to my wretched life.” I mustn’t cry. Boys never cry.

End of the chapter

Soooo what do you think ? Please leave a review! Thank you !