Alone Together (Jalex) EDITING

I don't know where I'm going.

    It had been hard for me to explain to Isobel that Alex wanted to stay at my house for a few days. First of all, he didn't look particularly enthusiastic about it. Second of all, he had been feeling openly unwell for a while, so why would he want to leave except if there was -and there was- a problem with his family? And then, of course, the fact that I was living alone when only twenty-one years old bothered her.

   A miracle must have occurred because she had gone from sceptic to overly comprehensive in a matter of a few seconds. The only thing mattering there was that she had agreed. And she hadn't seen him properly yet.

    I remembered when I  had turned on the lights in his room. He was still laying on his side on his bed, his back to me. The first things I'd seen were the long red -almost purple- marks across his back. I'd had to focus on my breathing not to let him know that I was internally panicking. It didn't get any better when I walked around the bed and to face him. Alex had bruises all over his  body, some looking new and some looking a few days old. However, what I think had broken my heart the most was the cuts on his sides. I knew they weren't from his father. When I'd looked into his eyes, determined to take him out of there; I only saw emptiness under a layer of sparkling water.

"Alex? I'm back!"

   The past two days had been particularly rough for the both of us. At first, he was just a ghost, barely moving from my bed to the table to eat. I could understand that his injuries must have hurt a lot, but I wanted him to try and prove to himself that he was still alive. I was aware that he didn't sleep much either: I would check on him a few times during the night and he almost always was breathing unevenly; but he never moved, always laying on his side on my bed, pretending to be asleep. Or perhaps too psychologically exhausted to do anything else.

   I was about to go into the kitchen, thinking that he must have gone out when I heard a noise coming from my bathroom. I slowly made my way over to the bathroom door, unable to shake the feeling that something must've been wrong off.

"Are you alright?" I asked. I knew that I wouldn't get an answer. Silence was Alex's main response in most situations.

    Silence was a vicious thing. Basically, it was a lack of noise which left us alone with ourselves, with our own thoughts. It could create the perfect atmosphere to remember old memories, yet it could also be the battle front of our darkest reflections.

   I gently knocked on the door. "Could you let me in, please?" I whispered, very aware that being harsh wouldn't do anything positive.

   After a few minutes, the door was opened, revealing Alex standing in front of me, listless. His eyes weren't meeting mine, his body language giving out that something was indeed very wrong. I reached out and pulled him into me, careful not to put too much pressure on where he still had bruises.

"You're alright, Alex."

   Reality was hard to face. People tended to find excuses not only for people behaviours but also for they need to escape reality. The society we lived in made it normal for us to want and pretend that some things weren't really happening. Life was far from easy but could be so worth living. We just needed to find where we belonged, something that most people -including Alex or even myself- had a hard time doing.

"I wish it was that easy." Alex let out.

"We should go for a walk, there are some things I want you to know." I'd thought that he was going to protest, but he didn't. So I took his hands and guided him to the front door before letting go and taking our coats. It was late and I knew that the weather was as warm as the month of February allowed it. We went out when we were both ready, locking the door behind us.