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Each flash of lightning seemed to glare at him with the hatred he'd seen in his father's eyes, and the cold rain seemed to leech the heat from his very bones as he trudged through the downpour, the young tiger's thin tee-shirt and worn jeans proving completely inadequate to protect him from the weather.\n\nThe day had started fairly normally; his father was on his way to work when John got up for school, so the older tiger didn't say much. John had grabbed some breakfast and dressed quickly. The school's dress code wasn't all that strict, so he'd donned a tee-shirt and his favorite jeans. Footgear wasn't required, and his father wasn't there to give him grief about it, so he decided not to bother. He preferred the comfort of bare feet, as did most; even many of the faculty didn't bother with shoes. Only the most rigid folk, like John's father, or those whose workplace hazards required it, regularly wore shoes in decent weather. \n\nAs John finished his preparations, he heard the quick double-tap of a car's horn, and he rushed out to meet his ride, a handsome, slightly older black wolf named David. David had been John's best friend for as long as he could remember; more recently, the canine was John's secret crush, but he'd had no intention of letting the wolf find out. David noticed John's rather relaxed wardrobe as the tiger climbed into the car, and grinned at his friend. \"Captain Crankypants leave for work early?''\n\n\"Yeah,'' John laughed. \"So I get to pretend I can live like a normal person, not some prisoner on probation or something.''\n\n\"Dude, your dad seriously needs to relax,'' David pointed out for what had to be the thousandth time.\n\n\"Tell me about it.''\n\nThe ride to school was unremarkable, as was the school day itself. Much fuss was made about the upcoming football game; John couldn't have cared less. A few quizzes were taken and passed. Homework was assigned, which John completed during his lunch and Homeroom hours; after all, why waste any part of a perfectly good weekend on homework?\n\nIt wasn't until John was dropped off at home after school, again by David, that things started to turn sour. His father's car was still gone, so John let himself in and went to drop off his backpack in his bedroom...only to find that his bedroom appeared to have been ransacked. All his drawers were opened, his clothing strewn everywhere, some of it torn. His bed had been upended, the mattress and box spring torn apart. The contents of his closet had been thrown onto the floor, and someone had put a claw hammer through the monitor of his computer. He knew it was a claw hammer; the tool itself was still embedded in the wreckage of the CRT monitor.\n\nQuickly, John ran through the rest of the house, to see if anything else had been disturbed. Nothing else seemed out of place. The only room that had been wrecked was his. He returned to the disaster that had been his bedroom, and carefully began to sniff around, trying to determine the race, at least, of whoever had done this. As he sniffed at the hammer, his heart turned to ice and his stomach sank. The only scent on the hammer was his father's...and the scent was fresh. The tool had been touched mere hours ago, if even that long. \"What the hell?''\n\nHe heard a car door slam, and ran to the front door just in time to see his father enter, in a suit and tie, black patent leather shoes, with a businessman's briefcase...and an expression on his face more suited for a predator closing in on his prey than a loving father. \"Oh, there you are,'' the elder tiger growled, his voice dripping with scorn.\n\n\"Dad, I was at school! Where else would I be?''\n\n\"Dressed like street trash, I see,'' John's father snarled contemptuously. \"But that's no longer relevant.'' He stalked over to the living room and set his briefcase on the coffee table and opened it. \"Get over here, boy,'' the man yelled, pointing at the living room couch. John hurried to obey, the sinking feeling in his chest growing worse by the second.\n\n\"Dad? What's wrong? And what happened to my room?''\n\nThe older tiger growled, as if not trusting himself to speak. He reached into his briefcase and withdrew a stack of papers, thrusting them at his son. \"Explain this,'' he snarled, biting off the words as if sinking his teeth into live prey.\n\nJohn's fear turned to horror as he took the papers and started to flip through them. They were printouts of some rather blatant stories he'd found on the Internet and saved...and pictures, as well. Very erotic images...featuring only males. John had known he was gay for years, but he'd never told anyone; he'd lost his mother to a tragic auto accident before he could confide in her, and his father...\n\nHis father would have been enraged. As he was now.\n\nJohn looked from the printouts to the fury of his father's face. \"Dad...I'm gay...''\n\nThe older tiger's backhand slap knocked the boy sideways. \n\nJohn fell to the floor, the sheets scattering as he dropped them. \"Dad, stop!''\n\n\"Who did this to you?'' the older male yelled. \"Was it that wolf David? Some other punk at school? One of the neighbors?'' The man's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he reached out, grabbing John's neck and lifting the youth physically off the floor. \"Was it Matthew? Was it my deviant brother?''\n\nJohn gasped and coughed, trying to wrench himself free. \"It wasn't anybody!'' He struggled, but his father's grip was too firm. \"I haven't seen Uncle Matt since I was nine...Nobody made me this way, I just am!''\n\nElder tiger dropped younger to the floor as if discarding something foul. \"I will not have such sin befouling the sanctity of my home.'' He glared down at his son, his gaze now colder than ice. \"Tomorrow I will take you to the Elders of my church, and we'll have you purged of this demonic influence.''\n\n\"That won't work, Dad,'' John gasped, still trying to catch his breath. \"I'm not possessed or perverted or any of that crazy crap! Any ethical psychiatrist'll tell you it's not sick or madness for me to like men...'' His defense was cut off abruptly as his father backhanded him again, sending him crashing into the coffee table.\n\n\"Filth!'' He aimed a kick at the boy, but John had recovered enough of his wits to dodge. \"Pervert!'' He swung a balled fist, but the youth's reflexes pulled him aside as the blow whistled through the air. \"Sodomite!'' John yelped and grunted in pain, collapsing, as his father's patent leather Oxford caught him squarely between the legs. The youth writhed in agony on the floor, as his father did something John would never have thought possible, something that dwarfed the merely physical discomfort of being squarely kicked in the junk. \"My son is dead! I have no son!'' \n\nThunder boomed as the storm that had been threatening all afternoon finally broke, gushing rain in torrents as lightning danced and played in the inky clouds. John's father grabbed him by the hair, pulling mercilessly towards the door. Opening it, he flung the youth out into the maelstrom, snarling with utter contempt. ``Get out of my house, you filthy thing!'' he roared, and then slammed the door in John's face.\n\nJohn stood slowly, in shock and agony, as the finality of that booming door registered. \"Dad...'' he whispered softly, as if the tiger were holding him as he had when John was much, much younger. He slumped, defeated, and trudged out into the storm. \n\n\"Where can I go?'' he asked himself piteously. A frantic search of his pockets revealed that he had, quite literally, only the clothes on his back; his wallet and cell phone had been on the living room coffee table, and he had no other money, no possessions, nothing. He couldn't call David for help; even if someone were nice enough to lend him a phone, he'd be mortified at having to tell his friend that he'd been kicked out of the house by his father, and why.\n\nHe slumped, hopeless, when a flickering thought caught his attention: a name, mentioned during the fight, that he had not heard or thought of in seven years. Uncle Matt. His father's brother, Matthew had been John's favorite among his parents' relatives. The burly tiger, older than his father, had always been a source of encouragement for the boy...until shortly after his ninth birthday. He never knew why his father had broken off all contact with Uncle Matt, forbidding the boy to even mention his name, but he remembered that the older tiger had lived close by. With a little luck, he could find his way in this storm, and Uncle Matt would still be living there, and be willing to help.\n\nJohn straightened his shoulders and began to jog into the downpour. It wasn't like he had a great many options...\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": ""Filth!''

"Pervert!''

"Sodomite!''

"My son is dead; I have no son!''

The hateful words echoed through the young tiger's mind, resonating with each crash of thunder from the storm raging overhead.  Each flash of lightning seemed to glare at him with the hatred he'd seen in his father's eyes, and the cold rain seemed to leech the heat from his very bones as he trudged through the downpour, the young tiger's thin tee-shirt and worn jeans proving completely inadequate to protect him from the weather.

The day had started fairly normally; his father was on his way to work when John got up for school, so the older tiger didn't say much.  John had grabbed some breakfast and dressed quickly.   The school's dress code wasn't all that strict, so he'd donned a tee-shirt and his favorite jeans.  Footgear wasn't required, and his father wasn't there to give him grief about it, so he decided not to bother.  He preferred the comfort of bare feet, as did most; even many of the faculty didn't bother with shoes.  Only the most rigid folk, like John's father, or those whose workplace hazards required it, regularly wore shoes in decent weather.  

As John finished his preparations, he heard the quick double-tap of a car's horn, and he rushed out to meet his ride, a handsome, slightly older black wolf named David.  David had been John's best friend for as long as he could remember; more recently, the canine was John's secret crush, but he'd had no intention of letting the wolf find out.  David noticed John's rather relaxed wardrobe as the tiger climbed into the car, and grinned at his friend.  "Captain Crankypants leave for work early?''

"Yeah,'' John laughed.  "So I get to pretend I can live like a normal person, not some prisoner on probation or something.''

"Dude, your dad seriously needs to relax,'' David pointed out for what had to be the thousandth time.

"Tell me about it.''

The ride to school was unremarkable, as was the school day itself.  Much fuss was made about the upcoming football game; John couldn't have cared less.  A few quizzes were taken and passed.  Homework was assigned, which John completed during his lunch and Homeroom hours; after all, why waste any part of a perfectly good weekend on homework?

It wasn't until John was dropped off at home after school, again by David, that things started to turn sour.  His father's car was still gone, so John let himself in and went to drop off his backpack in his bedroom...only to find that his bedroom appeared to have been ransacked.  All his drawers were opened, his clothing strewn everywhere, some of it torn.  His bed had been upended, the mattress and box spring torn apart.  The contents of his closet had been thrown onto the floor, and someone had put a claw hammer through the monitor of his computer.  He knew it was a claw hammer; the tool itself was still embedded in the wreckage of the CRT monitor.

Quickly, John ran through the rest of the house, to see if anything else had been disturbed.  Nothing else seemed out of place.  The only room that had been wrecked was his.  He returned to the disaster that had been his bedroom, and carefully began to sniff around, trying to determine the race, at least, of whoever had done this.  As he sniffed at the hammer, his heart turned to ice and his stomach sank.  The only scent on the hammer was his father's...and the scent was fresh.  The tool had been touched mere hours ago, if even that long.  "What the hell?''

He heard a car door slam, and ran to the front door just in time to see his father enter, in a suit and tie, black patent leather shoes, with a businessman's briefcase...and an expression on his face more suited for a predator closing in on his prey than a loving father.  "Oh, there you are,'' the elder tiger growled, his voice dripping with scorn.

"Dad, I was at school! Where else would I be?''

"Dressed like street trash, I see,'' John's father snarled contemptuously.  "But that's no longer relevant.''  He stalked over to the living room and set his briefcase on the coffee table and opened it.  "Get over here, boy,'' the man yelled, pointing at the living room couch.  John hurried to obey, the sinking feeling in his chest growing worse by the second.

"Dad?  What's wrong?  And what happened to my room?''

The older tiger growled, as if not trusting himself to speak.  He reached into his briefcase and withdrew a stack of papers, thrusting them at his son.  "Explain this,'' he snarled, biting off the words as if sinking his teeth into live prey.

John's fear turned to horror as he took the papers and started to flip through them.  They were printouts of some rather blatant stories he'd found on the Internet and saved...and pictures, as well.  Very erotic images...featuring only males.  John had known he was gay for years, but he'd never told anyone; he'd lost his mother to a tragic auto accident before he could confide in her, and his father...

His father would have been enraged.  As he was now.

John looked from the printouts to the fury of his father's face.  "Dad...I'm gay...''

The older tiger's backhand slap knocked the boy sideways.  

John fell to the floor, the sheets scattering as he dropped them.  "Dad, stop!''

"Who did this to you?'' the older male yelled.  "Was it that wolf David?  Some other punk at school?  One of the neighbors?''  The man's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he reached out, grabbing John's neck and lifting the youth physically off the floor.  "Was it Matthew?  Was it my deviant brother?''

John gasped and coughed, trying to wrench himself free.  "It wasn't anybody!''  He struggled, but his father's grip was too firm.  "I haven't seen Uncle Matt since I was nine...Nobody made me this way, I just am!''

Elder tiger dropped younger to the floor as if discarding something foul.  "I will not have such sin befouling the sanctity of my home.''  He glared down at his son, his gaze now colder than ice.  "Tomorrow I will take you to the Elders of my church, and we'll have you purged of this demonic influence.''

"That won't work, Dad,'' John gasped, still trying to catch his breath.  "I'm not possessed or perverted or any of that crazy crap!  Any ethical psychiatrist'll tell you it's not sick or madness for me to like men...''  His defense was cut off abruptly as his father backhanded him again, sending him crashing into the coffee table.

"Filth!''  He aimed a kick at the boy, but John had recovered enough of his wits to dodge.  "Pervert!''  He swung a balled fist, but the youth's reflexes pulled him aside as the blow whistled through the air.  "Sodomite!''  John yelped and grunted in pain, collapsing, as his father's patent leather Oxford caught him squarely between the legs.  The youth writhed in agony on the floor, as his father did something John would never have thought possible, something that dwarfed the merely physical discomfort of being squarely kicked in the junk.  "My son is dead!  I have no son!''  

Thunder boomed as the storm that had been threatening all afternoon finally broke, gushing rain in torrents as lightning danced and played in the inky clouds.  John's father grabbed him by the hair, pulling mercilessly towards the door.  Opening it, he flung the youth out into the maelstrom, snarling with utter contempt.  ``Get out of my house, you filthy thing!'' he roared, and then slammed the door in John's face.

John stood slowly, in shock and agony, as the finality of that booming door registered.  "Dad...'' he whispered softly, as if the tiger were holding him as he had when John was much, much younger.  He slumped, defeated, and trudged out into the storm.  

"Where can I go?'' he asked himself piteously.  A frantic search of his pockets revealed that he had, quite literally, only the clothes on his back; his wallet and cell phone had been on the living room coffee table, and he had no other money, no possessions, nothing.  He couldn't call David for help; even if someone were nice enough to lend him a phone, he'd be mortified at having to tell his friend that he'd been kicked out of the house by his father, and why.

He slumped, hopeless, when a flickering thought caught his attention: a name, mentioned during the fight, that he had not heard or thought of in seven years.  Uncle Matt.  His father's brother, Matthew had been John's favorite among his parents' relatives.  The burly tiger, older than his father, had always been a source of encouragement for the boy...until shortly after his ninth birthday.  He never knew why his father had broken off all contact with Uncle Matt, forbidding the boy to even mention his name, but he remembered that the older tiger had lived close by.  With a little luck, he could find his way in this storm, and Uncle Matt would still be living there, and be willing to help.

John straightened his shoulders and began to jog into the downpour.  It wasn't like he had a great many options...

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