A Different Path

Chapter 11 - Not a Problem

"You're defendin' a lousy crip," Oscar spat at Race, and I suddenly felt as though there was a weight on my chest.

"Watch your damn mouth," Race said back, just inches away from Oscar's face.

"Just callin' him what he is. I mean, you try to make him think he ain't some pathetic, good for nothin' crip, but that ain't the truth, is it?" He said, and Race got ready to swing at him. A few guys pulled Race away quick enough, separating the two. 

"You okay?" Jack asked me quietly, and I shook my head once again. 

"I can't do this," I whispered, the weight on my chest feeling heavier. 

"You go wait in the alley right past the gate. I'll get your papes and bring 'em to you. Okay?" He said, and I nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. I did as he said, not saying a word to anyone.

I sat down in the alleyway and put my head in my hands, exhausted. The invisible weight pressing on my chest was growing heavier, and I felt as though I'd never be able to get up. Just a few minutes went by before Jack appeared, kneeling beside me.

"Hey," he said, and I took my head out of my hands to look at him. "Ready?" I nodded and he stood, putting his hand out to help me. I took it and got up, leaving the alley behind Jack.

Selling was going especially well today, making me start to feel just the tiniest bit better. I was nearing the last few papes when a group of younger boys turned the corner, and I didn't bother to say the headline, knowing they wouldn't buy. I adjusted my shirt as they passed, but as I did so, I was knocked to the ground by the biggest of the four.

"Fuckin' crip," he said as they continued walking, his friends laughing. This wasn't unusual for me, as random people often knocked me down and spat things at me, just because of my crutch. Normally I just ignored it, but after my rough morning, I couldn't ignore what had happened. I left my spot and went right home, managing not to cry.

Instead of going up the ladder I waited at the bottom, remembering that Jack had mentioned the previous day that we were going to play cards tonight. It was already growing dark and I felt tired, but I fought the urge to go to bed, wanting to hang with Jack first. Eventually, he showed up, a smile on his face.

"Hey! Ready to play?" He asked, and I nodded, smiling back. "Great, let's go," he said, and I followed close behind. 

When Jack opened the door I was immediately hit with the smell of beer, and it was clear that Romeo and Race starting drinking while they waited for us to show up. I had finally reached my breaking point and froze in place, basically shutting down. Since Jack smelt it too, he shut the door quickly, turning around to look at me. I stared at him for a moment before I completely broke down, unable to hold it together. Jack pulled me in tight, not saying a word. 

After a few minutes we went home in silence, laying down. Jack pushed my hair out off my forehead, which caused me to cry harder. I moved closer to him, feeling as though I couldn't breathe. He gently rubbed my back, continuing to stay quiet.

"I can't keep doing this," I whispered, my voice shaky.

"Tell me what happened, Crutch," Jack said, and I sighed, knowing I should talk about the dream. Despite the fact that I knew I had to talk about it, I just couldn't. 

"I'm so tired," I continued whispering, unable to steady my breathing. "I hate this."

"Hate what?" Jack asked, and I backed up just a bit to look up at him.

"I hate that I can't go a week without breaking down over a dream or a memory," I mumbled, wiping my face. "I feel bad that I ruin things for you," I saw Jack's heart break as I spoke, and I felt guilt wash over me.