In the Closet Ch. 12

All characters are at least 18 years old. This chapter contains strong language that some readers may find offensive. This is your trigger warning. Viewer discretion is advised.

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Zach

“What the hell is going on here?” dad snarled, and Keith and I both froze. He reached down and grabbed my wig, yanking it off and inadvertently tugging some of my hair. He looked at it with a vicious expression before turning back to us, casting it to the floor. “What the hell are you wearing?!”

My hand went to my chest, remembering that I was still wearing the lingerie set from last night. Dad’s lip curled in revulsion, and he grabbed my wrist and tugged me to my feet. He looked me up and down, looking more sickened and enraged with every passing second.

“Dad–” Keith began to protest.

“Are you some kinda tranny, boy? Huh?!” Dad’s grip on me was tightening, hurting as if threatening to snap my wrist. I cried out and tried to pull away to no avail. “You’re some deviant freak that enjoys dressing up like a woman?!” I was starting to crumple under the force of his grasp, knees buckling as I tried to pry his fingers off.

“Dad, let him go,” Keith said firmly, moving to stand.

Dad jabbed a finger at him accusingly. “And you! You were lying with this freak. Is he turning you into a faggot? What were you even thinking?!” He rounded on me again, his voice dropping to a mutter. “No… No, I’ll fix that right now.”

He stormed out into the living room, jerking me along with him. My face was already covered with tears, and having heard all the commotion, mom came out to investigate. “Honey, what’s all this yelling?” She stopped in her tracks when she saw me, frozen in shock.

Dad stopped as well, waving my wrist around painfully. “This fucking tranny degenerate is living under my roof and turning our son gay! I won’t have it!” His baleful gaze turned to me again, and he snarled, “You… You’re no son of mine.”

“Dad, please!” I sobbed.

“Don’t call me that! You disgust me, and you’re going to hell for this degenerate behavior! Now, out of my house!”

“Dad, stop!” Keith shouted, running out after us. His jeans were pulled on but still unbuttoned, and he grabbed both my arm and dad’s as he tried to separate us. “Just listen for one second–”

“Listen?! To what, all that faggot shit he’s filled your head with?” Dad threw him off and waved a finger in his face. “I was wrong about you, Champ. Huh? I thought I was raising a real man, but if you’re just a closet fag, then you can get out with him!” Keith froze, and I think my heart broke a bit. I desperately wanted him to save me one last time, to stand up for me when I needed him the most, but… doing so would force him to throw away everything. He would be disowned with me, have no money, be unable to go to school. His paid internship didn’t earn him enough to support himself, much less us both, and one phone call from dad had the potential to end even that. In Keith’s stunned silence, Dad hissed, “That’s what I thought.”

He opened the front door and threw me out onto the front lawn, then stomped toward me as he continued to chase me off the property. I frantically scrambled back, not even heeding that I was out in public almost naked. No, it was worse than being near-nude. I was in a bra and panties and girls’ gloves and stockings. Some of our neighbors were already outside, just getting ready for their morning commute. They’d already seen me. Even if we somehow managed to talk dad down, my life was over.

Dad chased me to the curb, then sneered contemptuously before heading back to the house. In desperation, I crawled after him and grabbed his leg. “Dad, please, I’m sorry!” I wailed.

He looked down at me with loathing, trying to wrest his leg out of my grip. “Let go of me you tranny freak,” he spat. I refused to let go, and he undid his belt and raised it over his head. I closed my eyes and flinched away, ready for the incoming blow, but all I heard was the creak of leather, then the sound of a fist delivering a blow. Dad grunted and fell to the grass, and I opened my eyes and looked up to see the belt in Keith’s hands.

He’d fought for me after all. In the end, he’d picked me.

“You ingrate!” dad sputtered.

“You’re not laying another hand on Zach,” Keith growled, but was already losing some of his conviction.

I heard a car approach and stop in front of the house, but I couldn’t look away from the scene unfolding before me. Dad jumped back to his feet and raised his fist, and Keith flinched as he readied himself for the punch.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

I turned to look, and my mind suffered a whirlwind of emotions. Our eldest brother Hank had chosen today to come home to visit, and he’d brought his girlfriend Kelly as promised too. He raced up to us then paused to take everything in, especially how I was dressed. Almost all our neighbors had noticed the racket we were causing, and some were taking their phones out to start filming. Hank looked around critically, quickly deciding to help me to my feet and usher me toward the house.

“Everybody inside, first,” he said firmly, running his fingers through the same walnut brown hair that we all had. He managed to push both me and Keith inside before dad could stop him, and dad and Kelly followed.

It was my first time meeting Kelly, and I didn’t want it to be like this. She was hot in a… cheap kind of way, and her straight blonde hair had grown an inch of roots out. She was trying to hold back a grimace when looking at me and not doing a very good job of it. Meanwhile, now that we were back in the living room and Hank had gotten a chance to process, it looked like he’d realized what was going on. His eyes were wide but sympathetic when he glanced at me, then turned on dad with a stern expression.

“Get these two faggots out of my house!” dad yelled, swiping a hand through the air. “They’re not your brothers anymore! I won’t have them living under my roof!” He waved a finger at Keith, then at his cheek, which was beginning to bruise. “You’re gonna lay your hands on your own father? You filthy ingrate!”

“Dad, calm down and let’s just talk about this–”

“What is there to talk about?! These two freaks deserve to be thrown out into the street!”

Hank’s breathing was starting to escalate too now, and he glared at dad before staring at the floor as he considered what to do. He was a couple of inches shorter than Keith, but the presence he was commanding now was powerful. After a moment, he turned to us. “You two, pack your shit. Make it quick.”

Dad sputtered in disbelief, and mom ushered us wordlessly to my room. She looked plaintive, but it was clear she didn’t know what to do in the situation. I didn’t blame her though. We’d reached my room by the time dad strung enough words together to form a response. “Where do you think you’re taking those faggots, Hank? A couple of homos under my own roof! Did you even see how he was dressed?!”

“They are your sons!” Hank roared back before we closed the door, rendering the rest of the argument muffled.

Keith guided me to my bed, where I dropped down and sobbed. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight to his side, sighing through his nose and letting me cry. Once I’d calmed down enough, I turned to him, my eyes sore from all the tears.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” I rasped, still choked up.

“No apologizing,” he said sternly. “I’m not sorry.” He used his thumbs to wipe my face dry, still looking troubled but managing a small smile for me when he noticed me watching. “Now c’mon. Hank told us to pack, so…”

He stood and pulled out my suitcase, then opened my closet and started searching through it. I watched him pack for me, packing all my girl clothes first, including my wig on the floor. I had no doubt he’d come to the same conclusion as I that, if left here, dad would burn them. He got my makeup kit, then started tossing in my guy clothes as well. There was some significant meaning there that I couldn’t quite grasp at the moment.

When he was done zipping my suitcase up, he came over and ruffled my hair. “I’ll be back, okay? Gotta get my shit too.”

I nodded, and he gave me another smile before slipping out of my room. I laid back on my bed and sighed. It was almost funny how calamity showed people’s true colors. Both my brothers had stood up for me. My heart swelled, and I almost started tearing up again. Exhaling heavily, I sat up and stripped down, stuffing my lingerie into the suitcase before getting dressed as a boy.

After a few minutes, Keith poked his head back in and waved for me to follow. I grabbed my suitcase and obeyed, walking back out to the living room where Hank and dad were still arguing. I did my best to ignore them and not be noticed, receiving one last hug from mom before slipping past and heading outside with Keith. Kelly was already in the car, and Keith put our luggage in the trunk before telling me to get in.

I was just turning to do so when I spotted Ellie on the curb, looking both nervous and shocked. I swallowed and walked over to her, and she averted her gaze and put her hands behind her back. Checking over my shoulder, I saw Keith watching us carefully, almost glaring at Ellie. Turning back to her, I took a deep breath. This was all a lot for one day.

“Hey,” I murmured.

“Hey,” she echoed, hesitant. She could probably see my eyes were red from crying and had picked up that something major had happened, likely rethinking her coming over here. In the end, she decided to press on. “Zach, I’m so sorry–”

I pulled her into a hug, and in her surprise she didn’t hug me back for a few seconds. When we separated, she still looked shaken but also a bit hopeful. I gave her a small smile, but her eyes darted to Hank’s car and she grew panicked.

“You’re leaving?” she squeaked.

“I think so. It’s not about you,” I added quickly. “It’s just…”

Hank came out of the house, with dad still yelling at him. “Don’t none of you ever come back to this house, d’you hear me?!”