Everyone was charmed by Leo's bright smile but behind it all, he could barely keep it together inside. From taking care of his sick mother to suffering mental and physical abuse from his father to keeping up his perfect grades in school.
King was th...
Trigger warning: Thoughts of suicide, mentions of drug abuse, and child abuse
King was with me for the next two days while I mostly slept and woke up feeling sick from withdrawals. My father had yet to come by, busy with work and other stuff. I was a little grateful for that since I wasn't ready to face the man yet, but it was time for me to leave, and all I wanted was to go home and be with my mom.
King walked me to the hospital's main entrance, where my father was waiting to drive me home. It had my nerves tingling with worry. King must have felt it because I could feel his hand on my lower back the whole way. I wasn't looking forward to being alone with my father after everything that happened.
"Here," King started to say as we walked out the door before pulling something from his pocket. "It's the phone you left me. Just text me later, and I'll come over. We could go for a drive or something."
I couldn't stop the smile as I hugged him before getting into the car. "I will. Thank you." I wanted to say so much more, but I didn't know how, and my dad looked ready to go. We waved at each other one last time before I rolled up the window, and the car started driving.
The whole drive was as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. My dad didn't say anything. His eyes were glued to the road until we pulled into the driveway. The blue two-story looked different as I stepped out of the car, but I couldn't think of why. I missed this house so much..., but now that I'm here..., it doesn't feel the same.
Once we walked inside, I put my stuff in the living room, took my coat off, and started for the stairs.
"Where are you going?" my dad asked as he started walking towards the end table, where a bottle of brown liquor waited for him.
"To see Mom," I answered, watching him pour a glass and gulp the whole thing in one go.
"Ah, so he didn't tell you that part. She isn't up there anymore, Leo." His voice sounded dry and almost hateful.
I backed down the few steps I stood on. I felt so confused as I didn't know where to go. "What do you mean? Did you move her into hospice while I was gone?" My dad didn't say a word as he walked into the kitchen, taking another full glass of liquor with him. "I don't understand. Why would you move her somewhere else? She didn't want to go-" My dad swung around so fast, I didn't have enough time to react as his hand smacked into the side of my face, cutting off my words.
"I didn't move her, you selfish prick!" He yelled. "I have to bury her. Alone. Without you. While you were partying around the city, I was here dealing with the mess you left me to deal with alone. If that isn't enough to explain to your junky ass, let me put it simply. She died," he snapped.
I stepped back. It felt like the world shattered around me as I grabbed my chest. She was..., dead? "I... I didn't..." I didn't know what to say as the tears filled my eyes.
"Didn't what, Leo? Didn't mean to leave her when she needed you the most? Didn't mean to get kicked out of school? Didn't mean to disappear for two months and only come back after almost dying from an overdose?"
I was trembling as he took a step with each question. "I... I didn't know," I mumbled through my tears.
He grabbed my shirt and pinned me to the wall behind me. "Shut up! Just stop talking, you worthless piece of shit!" He snapped, throwing me to the ground by my shirt. "I wish you would have died instead of her!" He yelled so loud it vibrated the floor under my hands.
There was a pause as we stared at each other, stunned by his words. I didn't think his words could make me feel any more empty. How could he say that about his own son? But in a matter of seconds, my father's eyes turned dark.
"Get out," he whispered so low I wasn't sure if I heard him right. I couldn't move from the floor. "Get out of my house!" he snapped, grabbing the chair from the table. "I don't ever want to see you again!", Trying to get my feet underneath me to move, I fell to the ground as something slammed into my back. My eyes danced around my head, and then the pain overcame me. I gasped, remembering to breathe, and made the mistake of turning around to shield my back. My arms shot up to see the man swinging something in his hand down at me, hitting again and again with what looked like the leg of the chair from the few glimpses I braved. "You low-life junkie! I hate you!" he yelled, followed by words I couldn't make out over the pain and my screams for him to stop.
I could feel the blood running down my arms by the time he stopped. I tried to move, but my arms felt numb, and my back burned with enough twitch. "Kill yourself next time! Get out!"
I wanted to leave. Wanted to grab my coat and the phone I put in the living room to call King, but I couldn't move. I was too scared of what this man I didn't know anymore would do if I tried. But maybe that was worse because he kicked my side a few times before grabbing my shirt and dragging me to the back door.
The cold shocked me as I fell into the snow, and at the same time, it helped the pain in my forearms as I lay there. Feeling the cold sink into my bones, I opened my eyes. The snow around my arms had turned red as I pulled them into my chest and shivered.
My mom was dead. I didn't even know where she was buried. It couldn't be real... She couldn't be gone.
On wobbly legs, I managed to get to my feet and started walking to the park behind my house. My mind flashed back before she got sick. Our walks together here. The late lunches watching the fish swim under the bridge as our feet dangle under the railing. We shared laughs about stories we read and long talks of life and death, but not one of them helped me now.
I found myself on that bridge once again, looking down at the river below. A fresh layer of snow lay across the top of the ice, but running water peeked up here and there, letting me know the ice wasn't thick.
Dark thoughts began circling my head. I was a waste to the air I breathed. My arm itched where the marks scarred my skin. I wanted to feel numb to those thoughts. I had no future. I had no family to miss me. I messed up everything. The pain would never stop. Maybe I should just jump and end the suffering.
My hands gripped the top of the railing, but the pain in my arms was too much to try and pull myself over. I sank to the ground, sobbing as I looked over the river. I just wanted the pain to stop. I just wanted everything to stop.
*****
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