Chapter 24

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"How do you know Jan," I finally asked against Tom's mouth.

The tension in Tom's body was appreciable. His chest lifted heavily from a deep inhalation, followed by a deep-drawn sign. His head moved back slightly, just enough that we could see each other's faces. The breath from his every word still tickled my neck.

"Jan is my friend, my only friend. We grew up together and it's my fault that he is the way he is. - There, it's out." His arms swung up in a movement of resignation. His eyes had gotten deeper, fixed on mine, as if looking for a clue, before he moved them to the ground.

"Why is it your fault?" I dug deeper.

"You're going to leave me if I tell you." Tom still didn't dare look at me.

"We're passed that stage, Tom." Gently, I took his face between my hands, making him look at me. "I love you, and I'm not going to leave." He didn't believe me. I could tell. But he smiled, even if only half.

"Jan and I lived together in the orphanage. He was normal then, healthy, I mean. We weren't especially close at the time. We were friends, but most of us were, to some degree. You just learn to stick together. But I wasn't really close to anyone. In the end, you couldn't trust any of the other kids. You never knew who might have set them up for something. Um, anyway, when I was older and the whole sports stuff had started, and I was being left alone by the staff, I increasingly became aware of my status. And at times, I used it to my advantage, too much!" Tom swallowed hard, before he continued.

"One day, they started yelling at this new boy. He was still so little, maybe five or six? He was so daunted, crying. We were having dinner but none of us dared to move. We watched, each of us trying not to steer any attention to ourselves. I don't even remember what happened. I think he wasn't eating some of his food. One of the carers then threw his plate on the floor and they made him eat it off the ground. He was kneeling, sobbing so loudly. I could see the fear in his eyes, the pleading when he looked up at us. And then the director came, the biggest pig of them all." Tom's body was shaking as he continued.

"Our newcomer needs some special treatment, don't you?" that ass laughed. He picked up that boy and pulled him away. "You come with me. I have something better for you." I still hear his words, those sick, sick words. And no one did anything. His wife was in the room and did not step in. And something clicked in me. The anger and pain of all those years with the knowledge that no one would hurt me; I got up and punched him straight in the face. I was fourteen then. It hit him by surprise, but apart from a stumble, nothing. So I punched again and again and again, until his nose was bleeding. I was in such a rage, I can't remember what happened after. What I do remember is that he was lying on the floor, everyone was quiet, in shock I believe. I was leaning over him, punching him in a rage and his wife suddenly swung an iron at me. But out of nowhere, Jan appeared. He threw himself in front of me and was hit by the iron at full tilt at the side of his head. I thought he was dead."

"Oh my god!" The horror his words had sparked in me let me cry out. But I wanted to be strong for him. Trying hard to contain myself, I quickly added, "That is not your fault, Tom." I pressed my tear stained face against his wet cheeks, kissing him over and over again.

"Of course it's my fault. I shouldn't..."

"You were so courageous, Tom. You stood up for this boy."

"No, I was not contained. You mess up if you don't plan ahead and instead act on impulse."

"Stop it, Tom. Stop blaming yourself. You are a victim, just like Jan and all the other kids. There were adults, many of them, who were meant to protect you. They failed. It's their fault."

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