Thousand doors-Chapter one
Thousand doors-Chapter one.
Hello, my name is Jey, and now, I know what’s gonna happened; you’ll read you read my story, and you’ll think: ” wow! That so cool! You are so lucky!”, or something like that. Well no. Let me get something straight; what had happened to me wasn’t my choice. What happened to me was an accident. The people that…done what they done to me did an “Oopsy”, and kept me alive. Another “Oopsy” they done, was to give me some…questionable abilities. And also let me escape. That was a serious “Oopsy”. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is; don’t go and intentionally look for pepole like them. They are, just like what they’re doing, horrible. And not a bully type of horrible; a different kind. The kind that will destroy and most likely kill you. Now that we got that out of the way, I should try and explain…everything.
For four whole years, since I was 16, I lived on the streets on Boston. Now, you probably wondering “why?” I bet that some of you had already imagine a gruesome death of both my parents, as I saw it, and cried! Well no. Not even close. My mom left me with my dad as a “punishment” for being abusive. I’m not sure how much of a punishment is this…I mean, if she wanted to punish me, then that would’ve made sense, but I personally think that all she just didn’t wanted to divorce him and get stuck with a toddler and no money. Instead, she took my dads money, ran away in the night, and left her fucking 5 year old kid with her abuser. So as I was saying, She left me with him. After that, he became a religious psycho. No. That wasn’t just a religion; it was a cult. I didn’t blame my dad for joining this cult…he was brainwashed. But still, he changed. I thought that he couldn’t get worst then, but somehow, he did. I woke up every morning at 3 AM to pray on my knees to “The two holy creatures of doom”, as my father used to call this thing. This cult didn’t approve of three things: murder that us not in the purpose of rituals, drinking alcohol that is not in the purpose of rituals, and…same sex romantic or sexual relationships, because they think the only reason that sexual or romantic relationships exist is for repredosing. As I grew older, I started to…figuring things out. Things like..my sexual preferences. I…I liked boys. When my dad found out, he was pissed. He couldn’t bear the fact that his son was gay.for a week, he just called me humiliation, and said that I’ma sinner. He didn’t used violence; he just Used words. I thought that maybe, just maybe, my mom’s “punishment” worked. But one night, he woke me up at 12 PM.he didn’t said anything…he just took my hand, and drugged me outside to the car. “Get in.”, he said. I silently got in. He drove us to the woods. “Dad…What’s going on? “, I asked. He just smirked and took my hand. He was way stronger than me. I didn’t had any chance of fighting. He took me to a big hut. He took a key out of his pocket, and opened the door. Then, I felt something hitting my head. I fell to the ground, and blacked out. I woke up inside of a circle, made of what I hope was red paint and big chicken bones. I was surrounded by people wearing black robes and black masks with red stripes. The only thing that made this people look slightly different. Was the amount of the red stripes on their masks. I knew what was going to happened; my dad had the same mask. He told me all about it…it was a sacrifice mask. They will wear it to honor their Gods. I froze…my dad….was about to sacrifice me. I knew what they were going to do…”they’re gonna lock me in here for three days…if I can find a way to run, I won’t die….” , I thought to myself. They left me there. I got up, kicked down that fucking door, and started running. I just ran straight, until I started seeing houses. I ran until I saw a big fence. I started screaming for help, but no one answered. Suddenly I heard a big thud behind me. I saw my father on the ground. He held a bat in his arms. Behind him was a short, blond haired, guy in a black scarf that covered almost all of his face, accept his a small part of his nose bridge, that shown his extremely fair skin, and biuteful eyes. I will never forget his blue, piercing, strong eyes. He took my hand. And we both started running. For a moment, I thought that he was a sacrifice to, but I saw strange tattoos on his on his arm. Numbers and letter jumbled up, and sacrifices couldn’t have any tattoos or piercing. He pointed on an old door wooden door. He opend it, and there was only pure light. “We should go now. They’ll find out of your disappearance very soon. Come with me. I won’t be with you; but you will be in a safer part of the town. They won’t get you from there.”, he said and started and jumped in. I didn’t had any time to spare. Without a second thought, I jumped straightin after him with the eyes closed. When I opened them, I was near a nightclub. That night, I slept in a back alley near that club. And from that day on; that was my life. I’ll wake up at the morning, find something to eat, sometimes I’ll visit the church, and then I’ll go to sleep. The street was a harsh place to live in, but now I got roughed up. But still, I was foolish. I was a foolish 20 year old guy, who thought that he knew everything. Who thought that he saw the worst. Who thought that he already gone through the worst part of his life. But I was wrong. The worst is just
I woke up in the streets of Boston, as every day. I started walking to the park, just as any other morning. You are probably wondering; “but Jey, why the park?” Wel, at the morning the park is the only place that feels safe. There are only toddlers, parents, and some old people…no one dangerous. As set on a bench, I noticed yesterdays newspaper. I picked it up and started reading, when suddenly, I noticed a picture on the left top of the second page…it was a sixteen looking afro-american boy. His hair was tied up in a pony tale. He was running barefoot in dirty cloth in the woods. I knew that boy. And I wish that I wouldn’t know that part of the woods…I’ll never be able to forget. That boy…that was…that was…me. J started reading the things that were wrote under the picture. “The picture of Jey Lakeian, the boy that had gone missing four years ago. Sadly, we don’t have any recent pictures of him, but is you spot him, please let the authorities know, or call to his father.” There was a phone number under the picture, but it was not my fathers. He made me memorize his number in case I get lost. My hurt dropped. “They…they where still looking for me…” I whispered. “Wait…no! That makes no sense! They can’t search for me after so long! Four years had past!”, I thought. But the picture…that was…that was me! Suddenly, I realised that something was off about that picture. Something was missing. And then, it hit me; the guy. The blue eyed fair skinned guy. He was with me! He was dragging me to…to that door! Nothing made sense. I wanted to cry. I didn’t wanted to go back to that hell..but I knew what I had to do. “I can’t stay here…I need to find this guy…and I need to find that door.”, I decided. But I had to think of a plan…how the fuck was I going to find that guy?