Category Archives: GBLTQ
Wyatt hates talking when anyone other than his cat is around. People make fun of and mock him, especially his coworkers. They don’t mean anything by it but it still hurts his feelings. Kid’s did the same thing to him his entire life.
He naively thought adulthood would be different but he was wrong. Adults are just as if not meaner than kids. They’re just mean in a different way.
Right now the staff meeting has him on edge. The new guy seems nice enough but they all seem that way. Working at White Water Wreckage was supposed to be his fresh start but it’s the same as anywhere else. New people are nice at start but they join in making fun of him when they see everyone else doing it.
The meeting ends and Wyatt heads straight for his kayak and raft. The schedule for today has him set for one run and that’s plenty for him. His boss is very understanding about his speaking fear. Normally, he’s more of a grounds keeper and equipment manager but he does runs when things get hectic.
Wyatt starts when the new guy shouted in his direction. He turns making sure the new guy is really talking to him. He points to himself just to make sure.
“Yeah, hey.” The new guy comes up to him panting a little as if he ran all the way here. “I wanted to ask where the extra paddles were? The others said you’d know.”
Wyatt nods and motions for whoever he is to follow him.
“Don’t you talk?”
He stumbles and half falls half sways himself into a tree. The new guy looks shocked and it’s now Wyatt notices how cute he is. He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything.
“My names Waverley.”
“Wu-wu-hi-it. Wuhiit. Wyatt.” He’s so damn embarrassed. He can’t stand waiting for Waverley to say something. He turns away from the new man and points in the direction of the extra paddles for rafts and takes off running.
He’s always been a star athlete and takes advantage of it now by hightailing it.
Waverley behind him surprises Wyatt. A body slamming into his knocks the air from him. Another tree stops his progress but this time it freakin’ hurts.
“I’m so sorry! Are you oaky?”
“N-no.” Wyatt’s hand throbs with at least three splinters and a pretty decent scrape across the side of his hand.
Wyatt starts when Waverley takes his hand and examines it. “I’m a professional splinter getter.” Waverley smiles and Wyatt’s feelings constrict his chest. He doesn’t want this man to make fun of him.
“I was trying to tell you I understand.” Wyatt stares and doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. “My sister’s speech was so bad she went mute.” Waverley steps closer. “She communicates with sign language now and will only talk around me and our mom.”
“R-r-r-really?” Wyatt wants to believe Waverley but others have lied to him before.
Waverley smiles and begins to sign, “Yes, she started because people made fun of her.”
Wyatt swallows and nods that he understood. Truth be told he started learning sign language years ago and thought of telling people he’s mute. “They make fun of me here.”
Waverley startles Wyatt with a hug. “I won’t and won’t others either, okay?”
Wyatt hugs Waverley tighter. He needs someone who accepts him for him and judge him with his speech disorder. Maybe all he needs is a friend.
Von sighs in frustration. “You’re driving me crazy.” His weight shifts as he sways. It’s a habit he’s had since he was a kid when frustrated or angry.
“I’m sorry.” Virgil’s face flushes with embarrassment. “I just can’t do it.”
Stepping forward, Von crowds the younger man. “This is what you want. Your future.”
Virgil’s honey eyes shift down and away. “I know, sir. I just… can’t.” He sounds deflated and unsure of himself and for Von that will not do.
“Hey,” Von takes Virgil’s hand with a squeeze, “you can do it. Trust me. You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Virgil squeaks and reigns himself in. “Of course I trust you. I’m just scared it’ll hurt.”
Von sighs again and fights not to clench his jaw. “It’s nothing, more like a pinch and that’s it.”
“But… Some cry.”
“And some don’t.”
If Von has to have this conversation again he’s going to scream. “Do it.”
Virgil’s eyes bulge, “BUT-”
“Now. Or you’re fired.” Von won’t really fire Virgil but he needs some form of threat.
The younger man swallows but turns to do as told. Virgil’s honey eyes move over the table before him and its occupant. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and the Beagle puppy paws Virgil’s abdomen. “But it’s time for your shot.”
Von stands back and waits as Virgil lift’s the puppy’s scruff and hastily injects the puppy with her first round of shots. The puppy doesn’t even notice, she’s too bust licking Virgil’s hand.
“I told you so.” Von steps back and heads for the exam rooms on the right. He has patients to get to.
Uriah feels confined. He doesn’t know where, how, or why. His head is pounding and his stomach aches as if punched but why? His memory is fuzzy and throat dry. The blackness is disorientating and frightening.
Why can’t he see?
His finger tips dace over his face to his eyes. Eyelashes tickle is exploring hands and panic sets in. His inability to see sends fear to his gut. Springing up, his head smacking something hard keeps him down.
Uriah’s hands feel his surroundings. Something rough and textured heightens his panic. Everywhere he turns the surface surrounds him.
Then it hits him.
The meeting. He was at the meeting and he cover was blown. Uriah feels for his gun: missing. Not surprising. He and his partner, Uilliam, went undercover in the local drug cartel seven months ago.
Now he’s what he fears is a coffin.
Wood groaning confirms Uriah’s worst fears. Panic sets in and his breathing increases. “Help!” His fists pound the wood, a splintered piece slicing his fist. “Let me out!”
What he hears increases his fear. The pounding of his fists sounds muffled, not hallow as if above ground. His nails scratch the wood trying to dig out. He’s bleeding but he doesn’t care, he wants out. Now.
He feels faint and it’s hard to breathe. Uriah realizes his air is running out. The black swims in color and his limbs become all to heavy. He knows his panic wasted his air, his stupid panic.
It becomes almost impossible to breathe and a minute later he can’t. The swimming black settles and the sound of his own labored breathing fades away.
Uriah recognizes his partner’s voice. He knew the man would come for him but he know’s Uilliam will be to late. He wishes he had the strength to hold on, to tell his partner Uriah loves him.
Sounds from above don’t matter to Uriah, not anymore. He falls into the blackness, nothing around him matters, his situation forgotten. Despite this, Uriah is aware of one thing. His heart is slowing, suffocating in the exhaustion of trying to hold on.