A Foster's Home

Chapter 5

Freddy ran into the bathroom and locked the door as quickly as he could so no one can get in. Then he sunk down onto the floor, his back against the sink. He tried hard to hold back the tears, to hold back the past that had been haunting him for six years straight, but he couldn't. It couldn't be held back. The hurt was stronger this time that the dam broke and the tears flowed. His breathing became heavy, as if he was in that accident once again. He held his head in his hands and tried to take away the pain himself.

He heard Rosa's voice from the other side. "Freddy, amor, can you unlock the door?"

Freddy ignored the question. Instead, he looked at the crutch sitting next to him. It was a painful, everyday reminder that the ones he loved were no longer with him. His leg was a constant reminder that nothing will ever be the same again no matter how hard he tried to make it. He hated it. In anger and sorrow, Freddy threw his crutch at the door, denting the wood. He sobbed loudly, unable to hold it in any longer.

He wanted them all to go away. He wanted to be left alone, to grieve alone. As much as he appreciated their concern, there was nothing they could do for him. The past was the past, never to be changed.

He wanted to scream, to curl up into a ball and do nothing but cry until death consumed him as well. Billy had a mother who was still alive, but didn't want anything to do with him. He felt bad for Billy, he really did, but his own story was different. He had parents who loved him to no end. They were so close, like best friends, and then they were stripped away from him at such a young age.

The room got darker. Instead of the bathroom, he was in the car. His father's bloody hand just a few inches away, but he couldn't reach it because his leg was pinned between the seat and the door. He was never able to reach for them again. His breathing became heavier. The tears came down harder. It was like a panic attack was trying to consume him. He wanted the memory to go away. He wanted to run from it all, but it will forever be a part of him.

Why did his siblings have to bring it up? They knew what it did to him! Why wouldn't Billy just let it go just like he told him to?

There was another knock on the door. "Freddy, please open the door. We just want to talk," Rosa said.

"Just go away! Please." The last word came out as a whisper.

"Freddy?" Rosa kept calling. She wasn't going to give it up, he knew that. He still wasn't going to open the door.

Freddy heard the sound of the door being unlocked despite him locking it not long ago. He knew why, though. Victor has always been the master of opening doors with credit cards. He should've seen it coming. However, he didn't open the door forcefully. He opened the door slowly.

Freddy looked away from them.

"Freddy," Victor said. He came fully into the bathroom and knelt beside his foster kid. He put a hand on his shoulder, taking it slow. "Buddy, I know it hurts."

"No, you don't. They're not here, Victor. They're not here with me and...and they'll never be again."

Rosa came into the room as well and closed the door behind her. She walked up to him and knelt beside him on the other side. "Amor, we know we may not understand, but we are here. You're not alone."

"What can you do?" He buried his head in his knees. He sobbed again. His throat hurt something fierce that it was hard to swallow.

"More than you know," Victor said as he wrapped his arms around Freddy.

As much as he wanted to be left alone, he wrapped his shaky arms around his foster father and buried his head in Victor's shoulder. He sobbed into his shoulder and let his foster parents comfort him as best they could. He let the memories replay freely in his head as he held them tight. He was tired of holding them in. At that moment, he couldn't be more thankful for Rosa and Victor.
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Billy sat on his bed, feeling beyond guilty for what had just happened. He didn't think Freddy's breakdown would be this bad, enough to throw his own crutch at the door. It shocked him--and even scared him a little--to see this side of Freddy. For the few months he's been here, his foster brother has always been cheerful.

But despite his guilty feeling, Billy was actually glad that he was getting somewhere. He hated hurting Freddy like that, but it was a step closer to real healing. In his breakdown, Freddy was letting it all out. Every pain, every hurt, every tear, every memory, all was being released with people supporting him. If Freddy continued to hold all these emotions in, throwing a crutch was the least worrisome reaction. It could lead to much worse things, and that's not what Billy wanted for him. Now that he was getting to know what was going on, he could help him for real.

He remembered when he spilled his past to Freddy and how he listened to every word he said. He told him the right words that made him feel, no know, that he was truly cared for. But the thing that caught his attention the most was when Freddy said, 'You may have been looking for the wrong thing, but all that searching led you to something you didn't know you needed.' Ever since the day he became a foster kid, Freddy has been finding ways to hide the pain, thinking that there was no one who could help him. He was looking for a hiding place when really he needed ears to listen to his story, arms to hold him as he cried, and hands to wipe away the tears. Billy came to the conclusion that all the hiding that Freddy has been doing for the past six years only led to someone eventually finding his hiding place, and that someone was Billy.

He knew Freddy was mad at him, but he didn't care. He was going to wait a hundred years if he had to until Freddy told him everything, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to stop bothering him about it. No more snooping around for the truth. It would only help if it came out of the teenager's mouth.

Mary came into the room looking as guilty as he did only moments ago. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You know, it was probably a bad idea to go behind his back like that. He feels really betrayed. I shouldn't have--"

"But be glad you did. Be glad we did."

Mary's mouth opened in shock and disbelief. "Why--"

"Mary, you saw it, right?"

"His breakdown?"

"No," Billy went down from the top bunk and walked toward Mary. "He's letting it all out. Yes, it's a terrible thing to see, but he's not holding it in. The more he holds it in, the more depressed he gets and who knows where that will lead. But this time we won't just let this breakdown pass. We're not gonna let him hide again. We have to get him to talk, help him get over this, help him know that he's not alone and that his parents are not completely gone. He believes that and we need to help him see the truth. We can't let him suffer anymore. It may seem like nothing is going on, but there is so much going through his head, I just know it."

Billy's eyes filled with tears and they rolled down his cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them. "Mary, come on. You can't tell me you can live the rest of your life knowing that he will forever have this past haunting him. We have to help him."

Tears were rolling down Mary's cheeks as well. Billy knew that he got to her.

"It's now or never, Mary. If we let this pass, we'll regret it. It's awful, but it will help him. Are you in?"

Mary looked at the closed bathroom door where her little brother laid crying. Then she looked back at Billy with a look of determination replacing the guilt. "I'm in."