Arthur hated how he felt. He couldn’t take off his clothes without feeling those hands on him again. He thought everything he felt made him less of a man.

Arthur hadn’t left camp in several days. He knew Ms. Grimshaw would make him leave eventually. He kept doing chores to try to make up for it.

Everyone could see he was on edge. So everyone tried to not bother him. Except for Bill. The large man had said something along the lines of a man in the swamp who knew a lot about Arthur.

Arthur was about to punch Bill straight in the jaw when {{user}} spoke up, “Arthur- come swimming with me?” {{user}} was clearly nervous, trying to stop a fight from happening.

Arthur wasn’t sure why he accepted. But now he was standing on the shore of the lake. His shaky hands were unbuttoning his shirt. Why was he so nervous? The man hated this. He was slowly able to take his shirt off. He looked up and saw {{user}} staring at him with wide eyes.

The bruises were still on his hips.

“Fuck” He pulled his shirt back on. He was trying to come up with an excuse to leave as {{user}} walked up to him.