Anathema

forty two - don't let me be

This time, there was no one to stop him from running when his father hit him.

Josh threw himself blindly from the porch and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, wisps of fear leaving him like feathers. To the forest. To the forest. Everything's okay in the forest.

He couldn't understand why he came back. He could have stayed in Cincinnati. He could have gone to Chicago like he'd originally planned. Instead, moments after Tyler had gone, he'd gotten on the bus and started home again.

Something told him that maybe his father still loved him. After all, even though he had yelled at Tyler, he still loved him. Maybe that's how his father felt. But Josh felt as though this had gone on long enough. Every time he told someone about what was going on, they told him that he didn't mean it and that it wasn't as bad as he made it sound. The only person who hadn't done that was Tyler. But he'd kicked Tyler out of his life, just as quickly as Tyler had let him into his.

He knew his father was right about that. He made good points. He was the reason Josh convinced himself to jump from a bridge a year ago. Most of the time, he clung to the tiny strand of hope that one day he'd be able to get out of this nightmarish place and live his life somewhere else. But sometimes, he still wished he hadn't survived. Today was one of those days.

But it was more than that. It was if some invisible force had shoved him on to that bus and back to Columbus. It was a feeling of sinking dread in his stomach. Something awful was going to happen.

He tried to convince himself as he ran that it was just his anxiety, but it was more than that. It was a stone cold wall in his chest, constricting his breath and squeezing his mind.

The feeling only got worse as he left his neighborhood. Usually, he felt better after leaving the unkept yards and rotting fences of the dirty, poor neighborhood, but his heart only squirmed in his chest the farther he ran. When he finally reached the forest path, he couldn't run any farther, and nearly collapsed on his hands and knees the second the trees covered the sky. After a second, he sneezed, and a thin line of blood trickled from his nose. Suddenly, he remembered his face was supposed to hurt, and as soon as he remembered, his cheek and eye and nose throbbed and a headache pulsed behind his face. He rubbed it and cringed, feeling it swell up only moments after he'd been hit. Slowly, he trudged forward and let the freezing wind soothe his face, but it did nothing to calm the horrible insects crawling in his gut.

When he reached the treehouse, he was so nervous he almost threw up. He looked up at the tree and swallowed hard, but he forced himself to climb the creaking beams and tried to prepare himself for what he might find. He was terrified of seeing Tyler again, and yet he wanted desperately to apologize. He wanted his best friend back, and he had a sinking feeling that he'd never have that again.

He checked the letter box, but there was nothing inside, and he breathed a soft sigh of relief. He had worried that Tyler had left him something telling him that he never wanted to see him again.

He climbed up into the treehouse and his eyes landed on a crumpled ball of paper on the far side of the enclosure. Timidly, he picked it up and unfolded it, and as his eyes skimmed the scribbled words, his heart dropped to his stomach.

Josh,

I'm sorry I made you so upset. I didn't mean it. I understand now. I understand now what it means to love someone so much that you have to leave to protect them. I didn't want to hurt you, I really didn't. I wanted you to understand, but you couldn't. That's okay, though. Nobody else understands, either. Don't beat yourself up over it. You're not a bad friend or a bad person or any of that. Those things your dad tells you about yourself aren't true. I don't know exactly what he's said, but I want you to know that you're the most beautiful, kind, loving, funny, caring, accepting, and understanding person I've ever met. I don't regret any moment I ever spent with you, except for the moment I hurt you and ran liked a coward. I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than you could ever know.