A Fear Of Cameras

I know that this story may be disturbing, but I have taken most of the tone and characters out of my real life. Not everything that happens here happened to me, but what is in this story is a mixture of what has gone on in my real life and what I have learned about the lives of those that I met in the two years of living on the road. Please be kind and Rate and Review what you have read. I am looking for constructive comments that will help me be a better author. Again, this story is somewhat dark, but I feel that by the general tone and situations, it gets out all of the feelings and emotions of what it is really like to live such a life.

Prologue
He wakes up, and he is afraid.
         Looking down from where he sleeps, he sees that his parents are asleep, and that he is safe. For now that is. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, he slowly stretches out his hands and feet, and touches both sides of the small camper they live in. As he stares at the tin roof, mere inches from his head, thoughts of the previous days invade his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot shut them out.
         Faces of strange men loom in front of him out of the darkness. Wishing to get up and brush his teeth, he resists, knowing his slightest move will awaken his parents. Knowing what would happen if this were to happen, he lies still, using all of his might to keep the dirty taste out of his mouth. Even if he does get up silently enough to grab just the mouthwash, the taste will never fully leave, since it is the taste and mark of his sin. His parents have told him that what he does at night will send him straight to Hell, and that God does not love little boys like him. Of course, the fact that what he did at night when he was with all of those men was their fault, and in his mind, this plays very little in his thoughts, as they race through his head.
         He sometimes wonders why he had been allowed to be born at all, if God hates him and will always hate him. He thinks it seems unfair to have to go through this life if there was nothing but more pain and hatred in his future. Thoughts of the other boys at the park playing and living a carefree life flood his mind, and he questions why he couldn’t be like them and live a normal life. Instead, as he watches them everyday, he waits for the next strange man to come along and take his hand and lead him away, as the sound of laughter and happiness surround his entire being. ‘How many more men will I have to go through?’ he wonders. His parents seem to always need money, though every night that he comes home, he hands them another bundle of cash. Nothing seems fair about this, and he knows no one will ever know his story.
         He wipes a silent tear from his cheek as he turns his head and focuses on his parents. They sleep comfortably on the bed in the lower half of the camper, blissfully content in the crash from their hectic lifestyle. He knows they leave for hours at a time when he is out with the men, and he decides it is best if he doesn’t know where they go. He hopes in his heart that they are hitting the streets looking for a job so that he will no longer have to support them, but in his mind this is all regarded as fantasy. They are no more looking for a job than deciding what to get him for his birthday. He cannot remember the last time that they went out and bought him a present or anything to acknowledge his existence. The only time that they connected with him at all was when he didn’t bring home enough money to support their habits. Those were the nights that he wandered the streets for hours before returning home, though he knew that by spending more time away from them, the hits were going to be worse than normal.
         They hit him when they weren’t happy, and when they were bored. There was no rhyme or reason to their beatings, but he took it all in stride, as he knew things were normal when they did this. In his mind, being the object of their scorn and hatred was better than nothing, as it was at least a time when they paid attention to him, no matter how much he hurt afterwards. They offered no apology when it was all done, nor any words of comfort. He seems to think that they are not like any normal parents, or he like any normal son. Things in his world are different than everybody else’s, but he knows by experience and instinct that there is nothing that he can do to change that. In his mind, if he were able to trust any one, it should be an adult, but it was always adults that came by and took his hand to let him know it was time to go. Why should things be different with any of the other adults he sees out in the world? Won’t they just be there one day to take his hand? He thinks so.
         He wants so desperately to be someone else, and take over their life, and the thought that it will never happen brings tears to his eyes.
         He is twelve years old.



Part One

          When the sun rose that morning, its purifying light was blocked by the purgatory steel of the clouds overhead, thereby eliminating any possibility of a beautiful day. But in his mind, the day is beautiful, because its tone matches the depths of his soul, the part that he would allow no one to see. He knows that if any other mortal penetrates it, he will most certainly be destroyed. He has secrets that must never be revealed and desires that he knows will never be fulfilled.
          His father lies in the lower bed of the camper that they call home, and as he dresses for work, his father merely slumbers on. He grabs his small manicure bag from its hiding place under his mattress, and checks to make sure all of its contents are safe and secure. This bag holds the key to his success, and has long been emptied of the original manicure tools. As he opens the door to leave, bright light floods the camper and his father turns in his sleep to avoid the sudden onslaught. After locking the door to the camper, he starts his way across the park towards the not to distant pier along the beach. This spot is where his courage is gathered, and where he plans the events of the long evenings he spends in the heart of the city.
          The waters of the bay are a dark gray and the spray from the surge on the rocks hits his face in a cool and refreshing way. His eyes brighten as his face breaks into a smile at the freedom he feels coming to him from the water, and he feels that nothing can hurt him today, as it is truly his day. He passes by the entrance to the pier and decides to pay the bathrooms a visit and begin his planning for his day. As he slowly walks the pathway, he rummages in his backpack and makes sure his manicure kit is still safely stowed away. His eyes flicker past everyone he sees, and checks over his shoulders before heading into the bathrooms near the entrance to the children’s area of the park.
          The bathroom is deserted and he is relieved. If he is lucky, the cameras didn’t catch him as he entered the stall. He pulls the small bag out of his backpack and looks at it for a second. He could stop now and put the bag away without opening it or sampling it contents. This is, of course, a fleeting thought, and he laughs at it. There would be no way he could make it through the rest of the day, much less score tonight if he put it away and stopped now.
          He opens the kit and spreads out its contents on his knees. He picks up the small, perfectly shaped glass pipe, coated on the inside with pearly white resin. Looking from it to the bag beside it, he figures he will leave the rocks alone and cook what is already covering the small chamber. Holding his lighter below it, he waits for smoke to fill the inside of the bowl before inhaling as much as possible. Peace and serenity spread their wings from his chest, and quickly fill his body down to the tips of his fingers and toes and up to the crown of his head. He is ready for anything.
          As he leaves the bathroom, a he decides to go visit Angel, as it seems that it has been ages since the last time that they have seen each other. In reality, it has only been two days, but in his world that is an eternity. A light drizzle has started to fall and he makes his way quickly through the park. His destination is only a short distance from the main entrance, but he takes a much longer route, hopefully shaking off those who wish to follow him. He knows that he is being watched, and that it has been this way for a while. Getting wetter than necessary from the rain is only a small price to pay to avoid any unwanted confrontations.
          He finally reaches the apartment complex, and as his hand reaches for the buzzer to his friend’s home, the thought of electrocution enters his mind, and he decides to knock instead. He waits for what seems like hours, and knocks again. Growing impatient, he slams onto the door with his fist and sighs when nothing happens. He curses his luck and starts again down the sidewalk. There seems to be no other choice than to look for Angel where he is going.
          As he walks along, he notices none of the people that he passes, and his mind again wanders to his past. He thinks of all the years that have passed since the first man took his hand and of the path he has taken to get to where he is today. He had found his parent’s stash of supplies when he had been thirteen, and since then, he had been working for his habit as well as theirs. He had found that when he met the men after he had cooked up, everything that happened between them was easier, and indeed in his fifteenth year, he had actively gone searching for men, instead of waiting on them to come and find him. Becoming frustrated with his memories, he shook them from his mind, and began planning for the upcoming night and his next customer.


          A slow yet gaining tempo, and in the background a beat; it gloriously pushes through and comes to center stage. Bodies move to the blast and crash upon each other. It is a celebration of youth and a fulfillment of all fantasies. Pushing his way through the crowd, all of this enters his mind and he feels alive. Endless possibilities line his path and he only has to choose. Sweat pours down his neck as he makes his way across the floor to the restrooms and hands seem to glide down over his pounding chest and lean body as he passes through the crowd.
          As he enters the restroom, he can still feel the bugs left by the hands crawling on him and he does his best to wipe them off. There is a man in front of the mirror sniffing too hard to suggest a mere head cold. As the man looks at him in the mirror, a smile flashes across his face in recognition and he turns quickly into the stall. He tightly slides the lock into place, and pulls his bag out onto his lap yet another time. He has done this once already upon entering into the club, but every night it becomes harder and harder not to turn to his mistress at least once every hour. Though the world is bright and dancing before his eyes, he quickly pulls the pipe up to his lips and draws the smoke slowly into his lungs. His heart beats ever faster and every beat echoes in his head. As he walks onto the dance floor once again, he can barely tell which pounding is his heart and which is the bass issuing from the floor speakers.
          Upon walking into the underground world that is clubbing, he had seen Angel upon one of the catwalks but had not gone up to see his longtime friend. Now it was time to do just that. In his world, there was nothing else accomplished unless Angel knew of it first and helped him in succeeding. Swarms of men lay in his path, and by accepting that they would once again put their bugs on him was able to venture forth. Hands glide over his body, and he smiles at those whose offers he puts into the rear of his mind. There are none here who appreciate who he is, only what he does. They tell him that in the way they look at him and in the things they tell all of their friends. He hears none of this in his ears, but in his mind, he knows that all that they talk about is Him. He is truly the center of attention everywhere he goes, even out onto the streets.
          Angel sees him from above, and as the lights and lasers pass over him and behind him, all he can think is that Angel is the right name for his friend. Clothed all in white, the lights hit his body and bounce back pure and heavenly. He forces his way through the crowd and up the iron staircase. Reaching Angel, he hugs him and they start to sway together to the music. Nothing is said of the first few minutes as they relax together, and bask in the glory that comes with being gods.
          Angel tells him the story of his day, and while waiting for a response, lights up a cigarette. He grabs it playfully out of Angel’s hand and takes a drag off of it before returning it. He says his day was nowhere near as exciting, and tells Angel he had gone by his apartment. Now he knows why Angel never answered: he was in the middle of ‘entertaining’ his customer. He could have waited for hours with no answer. After a few minutes of talking about the coming night, he says his goodbyes to Angel and heads back down to the main floor and the dancing masses.


          His father awakes, and trying to call his name, only manages a hoarse grunt. Rolling over, he looks into the camper’s upper bunk and chuckles at nothing as he realizes he is alone. The dreams are getting worse and the only sure way of getting rid of the feeling of them lies on the small shelf under his bed. As the smoke enters his lungs, he knows no pain of existence, and he prays that this time, the feeling will last. Knowing where his son is now pushes dark thoughts into his head, and he struggles in vain to think of something else. There has been, on his part, a struggle for redemption and absolution for pushing his son into this lifestyle, but as his mind becomes clear with the smoke, he thinks no more on the issues plaguing his dreams. Instead, he thinks of what he will do tonight to show his son that he has made up for his past sins. What he does not realize however is that no amount of struggling on his part will ever take away the pain and suffering of a boy in his early life. All he thinks is that with the smoke in both of their lives now, they have something to share, and that they should be able to be a normal family.
          He sets out to straighten up the camper, and he succeeds in making his bed and opening the door to watch the sunset out of his front door. Violent pinks and oranges flood into the camper and burn themselves forever into his mind. Tonight is different from any other night and he knows this, though how or why he knows this right now is a mystery to him.


          He sits on the club’s back porch and smokes a cigarette as men surround him as they all get to know each other better in pairs or in small groups. This is why he came out here: to watch all those around him find the ‘love’ and ‘serenity’ of getting together and forgetting the troubles of the world for a few moments at the least. There is something pleasing to him of watching as things progress further and further until the point where the men slowly trickle into the basement of the club, and new pairs and groups replace those he was watching. What is it that makes men willing to go only to a certain point before they must go into near total darkness before they can finish the deed? Is it shame? Guilt? Or is it something darker and more sinister than that? Perhaps they know of the hidden cameras as well, or maybe it is only a suspicion of theirs, which makes them compulsively seek complete and total darkness. Whatever the case, he knows that all these men are here for the same reason and that all he has to do is suggest to any one of them that they should go to the basement together and that they will.
          Rising from his seat rather quickly, he discovers that there is a man in the corner who has been watching him for the past few minutes as he gathered up his courage to go and find someone to release some steam with. Walking to the corner to confront the man, he finds that once he gets there he is alone. The man has vanished completely and has left him alone. That is the best thing for him; since he is now certain that the agents behind the cameras are here watching him. He must be careful in all decisions tonight.


          His father’s mind is racing as he methodically cleans and organizes the camper. The bunnies have come and gone, but they will return again soon. He had promised his wife years ago when they first appeared to clean for them, and his mind remembers that promise as he wonders for a moment where she is now. Turning around, he expects her to be there, but he sees nothing but empty space. She has left him for good, and he knows in the back of his mind that it is because of the bunnies and their plan.
          She resented him for allowing their son to go off everyday with someone new, but as night fell and they lit up, all of her anger and hatred fell away until they ran low again. It was like this until the end, when the fights got worse and someone (usually her) ended up bleeding nearly every night. He had awoken one night to find only the bunnies, laughing hysterically and telling him she had left forever. She had tried to take the boy, but he refused, and she realized then that he would end up just like them. The guilt from that realization had driven her over the edge, and they had never heard from her since.
          He sits on his bed and again lights up. He thinks that the boy needs to hurry, because he is running low and he needs more if he is to keep the bunnies away the entire night.


          He has found a partner and is now making his way into the basement labyrinth. His partner is one who appears to be at least ten years older than him, putting him near his late twenties. His jet-black hair sparkles in the light show as confetti clings desperately to hold on. There appear to be only hollow caves where eyes should be, but that makes no difference to him. All that matters now is the release of his excess energy, so that he may find the nights catch. It does not occur to him that this man may have been the only one he needed.
          He must get to the basement and avoid the cameras and the shadow men that operate them. Those around him know nothing about the cameras or the shadow men and he pities them for it. There is nothing he can do to warn them that they are all being watched, or that everything they do is cataloged as one giant experiment, and that nothing in this life matters. The only thing that he can do is make sure that he lives his life as he pleases, because one day he will be taken by them in death and will have to account for every action. He knows that there is not a moment when he is not watched, and he plans on giving the shadow men a show. This is the reason that he continues on in this sort of life, and his exploits in the basement and in all of the strange rooms he visits is his idea of a testament to that.
He leads the man down the stairs to the basement, and they turn off into one of the many side passages leading off of the main hall. Around them they hear the muffled grunting and groaning of men doing their best to keep it quiet though all they want to do is shout and scream as pain and pleasure mix. Occasionally these two mix in the right time that a loud shout is let out and the animals trapped inside the men are finally let loose. He knows that there is no time like the present to join in the experience of behaving like a man with no conscience.
          They kiss and begin the process of getting to know one another better. Hands slide up and down one another’s bodies as they progress with the same energy that the music pumps into those dancing upstairs. He is pushed up against the wall as his partners tongue travels down his now bare chest and reaches its final destination. His head bangs the wall as he is enveloped in the pleasure of another’s mouth, and soon, he is on his knees returning the favour. In what seems like no time, he is taking his partner’s member, and there is nothing but release for both as they move in time to the rhythm injected into their bodies by the pounding in both their ears and their hearts.
          They return to the dance floor after what is five minutes to them, but as they emerge from the door to the stairs, they notice a different crowd from before, and he decides that now is the time to find his catch for the night. As he moves about the dance floor, he notices at least three shadow men, but he knows the way to get rid of them, at least for the night.
          He enters the bathroom and the same sounds that filled the basement fill the air in here. He prays that there is an empty stall and curses his luck when he discovers that there isn’t. He takes matters into his own hands and opens one of the stalls. Two men are in it, one on his knees the other leaning against the partition. They pay him no attention as he squeezes past them to the toilet. He sits upon it and spreads his bag on his knees for what he hopes is the last time in the night. He loads the bowl and as he raises the pipe to his lips, a shadow moves across the door, and looking under the door he sees one of the shadow men’s feet. Lighting the pipe, and inhaling rapidly, the shadow man fades in and out for a moment before finally disappearing completely. He puts his pipe back in the case after repeating these motions two more times, and squeezes out past the pair of men. One is now pinned by the other’s member to the wall. He looks at both of them for a minute and closes the door on them.
          He knew the look in the man’s eyes as they had met his, and it was nothing more than the thought of having one more added to an already long list. That was the primal urge that all of these men felt, and it was as if, in some odd way, they were all marking their territory. As he walks back from the restroom into the dancing crowd, his eyes meet those of a man standing alone in the crowd looking straight at him. He feels that he should go to the man, but at the same time, he feels that there is something sinister about the man and that he should run in the opposite direction. His inhibitions are lowered enough at this point that his bad feelings are swept aside as he knows that this is the man he has been searching for the entire night. He wonders where Angel is and why he hasn’t taken this man first. That thought is replaced by the thought that it was too bad for Angel but it was his luck that he saw him now.
          He seems to sweep through the crowd, even as hands try to hold him back by putting their bugs on him. He wipes them off as he approaches the man. He looks like one of the shadow men, but as he reaches out, instead of his hand going through the man, they touch skin. The man smiles as he looks up at him, and he smiles back.


          He is being lead out of the club by the man, who appears to be at least twice his age. He no longer remembers who he is or why he does these things. All he cares about right now, in this moment, is getting out of sight of the cameras and shadow men, and ridding himself of the bugs. The man holding his hand says he can make that happen. He wonders how the man knows about the cameras and bugs, but he doesn’t remember just now of telling him about them on the dance floor.
          They pick up speed as they near their destination, and he wonders why so many people are staring at him from the shadows. Maybe, he thinks, maybe they know about the cameras as well, and they are hiding from them, telling him that he must do the same. He starts to sweat as his already racing heart beats all the faster from his new panic. Frantically trying to escape, he pulls his hand free and starts running for the safety of the shadows. The wind is knocked out of him as the man tackles him from behind. He wants to scream as he confuses the man with one of the shadow men, but calms down just enough to realize that they are not the same person. They are less than fifty feet from the man’s door. In the distance, he hears the whispering that starts when the shadow people tell him something bad will happen. He ignores the voices.
          When they reach the man’s apartment, he is sat down on the couch and told that everything will be okay. The bugs will soon be gone. He closes his eyes in relief and is floating in space. Stars pass him at speeds which normally would make him dizzy, but right now, they are perfect. He feels no pain, worry, or thankfully, any bugs.
          The man is at his feet, slowly undoing his shoes. He slips them off his feet, and undresses him from the socks up. He does not resist, as this is his customer, and as he is enjoying this moment. Perhaps this is the man who will treat him good, loving him until he dies. All the while the man is whispering comforting words into his ear, making everything easier for both of them. He is lost in a fantasy world created by this man’s words. There are flowers and gardens of all sorts. Weddings are being played out and the shadow people and the cameras have disappeared. ‘Wouldn’t that be lovely?’ he thinks.
          His clothes slip off his frail body easily and he is now completely naked on the man’s couch. The room goes silent and he opens his eyes wondering where he is. He grows embarrassed quickly, since the cameras are all focused on him and he is bare for all of the shadow men to see. He seems to be sinking for a moment back into his childhood. There seems to be something wrong with being here and being this man’s toy for the night, but there is nothing that he can do because he will be beaten if he comes home without the payment. ‘Wait,’ he thinks, ‘I don’t work for my parents.’ He reasons that there is nothing wrong with what he is doing and that it is what he wants to do. Why then the guilt and shame in the pit of his stomach?
          He is about to get up when he sees the man in the corner. He is watching the boy on the couch and has been doing so for a while. He has seen the boy start to freak out and then calm down on his own accord. He wonders what that was about. The bugs are back on the boy, and he can feel them digging into his skin. He starts to scratch at them and brush them off, knowing another wave of panic will come if he doesn’t get them off soon.
          The man calmly sits down next to him and he places a hand on the boy’s bare knee. There is something in the man’s other hand, but he knows that only the men behind the cameras carry those sorts of weapons. It hits him so hard that he is sure he will fall over. This was a trick and the other shadow people outside had tried to warn him. He wants to get up and get out of this room, knowing that in the back, the men are watching the cameras and know exactly what is happening. He is trapped. They have finally gotten him, and he has only realized too late what was going on. He sits on the couch, paralyzed with fear, wondering what the shadow man will do next. The man grabs his arm and places the needle slowly and delicately into the skin.
          The last thing he hears before he slips into the darkness at the end is: “This will take care of those bugs for you.”