Your Special Boy


Look me in the eyes, with your eyes that spit volumes of terror, sending chills down my spine.

Those eyes, they’re very beautiful and ever so ambiguous. Those who you love, see an endless ocean of love, piousness and heroic idealism, but I only see my miserable reflection screaming from your hellish cruelty, begging for some form of mercy.

I can tell and I can yelp but has anyone ever been able to escape the reaches of your manipulative gaze?

I was a boy then. I am a man now, strong enough to hold another man down, but when I see you walk towards me, my heart skips several beats and I feel my will to live suddenly cease.

Yet, I am impressed with myself, for every time you try to penetrate my brain with an unbelievably hot, smoldering gaze, I watch your conscience die from a pair of bruised eyes.

Say my name with those lips that will only say things about me in vile, disgusting ways.

Trap me in your mind with words that hurt and terrible intent. Make sure I’m cold, scared and isolated - that’s just how you like your prey.

Your lips are pink and plump, how they pop every time you call me a fat f*ck.

A loving smile is always plastered on your face. I ask again: Won’t it fade even when you spit words of hate at my hopeless face?

My nose is bleeding and my mouth frequently burns, I guess being punched in the gut as a seven year old does give you acid reflux.

Say my name louder and fasten your grip around my neck to choke me harder, because I promise you, hypoxia in a child comes far quicker than when you’re an adult.

Slap me one more time. Make everyone hate me some more because when those tears fall and my cheeks brighten up from the heat of your palm; I’ll watch the humanity in you die bit by bit and part by part. I’ll feed on anything human that’s left of you.

Take my friends away and protect them in your strong arms. Hold them close to your chest and offer them friendship like you never did me. Hold my chin up and twist my arm, my back against your chest and voice begging for help. Make an example out of me. Show them what a pathetic loser you have made out of me.

Leave me high and dry, wan and wary; the child in me died the day you made him kneel before you because when he thinks of you his brain freezes and will to live ceases

because his anxiety attacks only strike harder. Incomprehensible. Immaculate. Intense, and oh, very real.

You hate me and yet you’re not repulsed by me. My grunts and shrieks, failed punches and kicks and helplessness with a dash of terror only elevate you. The falling of my boneless body to the ground and the dust on my face that I can also taste never fails to earn me anything but a curl of your lips.

You attack me with words that sting. Your strong arms hold me up and throw me back to the ground. Pick me up and pin me against a wall-

(Doorbell rings)

Everyday I am reminded of how much pain seeing me causes you-

(Bell rings again not long before I open it.)

“Oye ch*tiye aaj bhi neeche nahi aaya toh ghar mein ghuske maarunga.”

Aren’t you just obsessed with me?

Author: Vedant Vaswani

Editor: Himanshi Mehta

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