Criticism spot! :)
~ Time skip, just a week.
Crutchie's POV
I was a kid again, and was trying to get home as quickly as I could after a long day at school. The bullying was worse than usual today, and I just wanted my Mom. I opened the door and ran to my room, sobbing into my pillow. Eventually, the door to my bedroom slowly opened, and I looked up to see my Mom, smiling. She looked just as I remembered her. She was just over five feet tall, and had blonde hair that flowed down to her waist. She was wearing her favorite green skirt, with a button-up blouse, looking like someone you knew you could trust.
"Bad day?" She asked, walking over to me. She knelt down beside my bed and hugged me, allowing me to cry into her shoulder. It only lasted for a few seconds, though, as she let go and backed away from me. Suddenly, she had a suitcase in her hand, and just stared at me silently.
"Where are you going?" I asked, wiping my face dry.
"I'm leaving." She said coldly. I stood up off my bed and noticed I was now back to being sixteen, but didn't have a crutch.
"Why?" My Mom had a blank look on her face, nothing like how she ever acted in real life.
"I can't take your father's abuse anymore." She began to back away, but I grabbed her arm, making her stop.
"Wait- take me with you," I begged, beginning to cry again.
"Charlie, you know I can't do that."
"What? Why?" I let go of her arm, backing away.
"You're not worth it. You'd be nothing but a problem. I mean, look at you," she said, motioning to my crutch that was suddenly under my arm. I stared at her as she spoke, feeling as though this wasn't my mother, as she'd never talk to me like this.
"But I'm- I'm your kid, please don't leave me with him," I begged one last time as she started to back away again, now in the doorway of my bedroom.
"I don't need you weighing me down." She said, closing the door.
I woke up before the bell, quietly crying to myself. I turned over so my back was to Jack, not wanting him to see that I had been crying. I kept replaying the dream in my head, causing me to cry harder each time. After just a few minutes, the bell rang, making me jump. I felt Jack begin to rub my back gently, likely wondering why I wasn't facing him.
"Morning," he said, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring myself to say anything back. He sat up a bit so he could see my face, but I didn't look at him. "You okay?" He asked, and I shook my head. "What's wrong?"
"Just leave me alone," I managed to get out, sounding destroyed. I could tell Jack wanted to push me a bit, but ultimately he decided against it, standing up to get ready.
I continued to lay down for a few more minutes before sitting up, rubbing my eyes and stretching. Jack came over to me, handing me a set of clothing. I noticed he had given me one of his own shirts, but rather than decline it, I put it on, feeling like he was hugging me. Once I had changed he gently pushed my hair back from my face, smiling at me.
"You ready? We can stay for a bit longer if you'd like," he offered, but I shook my head.
"No, we can go." I said. Jack helped me to stand and I immediately noticed how badly my foot was hurting, as it was especially cold out. I tensed up as it washed through me, and I felt Jack grow worried.
"Foot?" He asked, and I nodded. "Let me know when you're ready." I couldn't help but smile as he spoke, feeling protected and safe.
I ignored the pain throughout our walk to the square, and didn't join in on the conversation Jack and Race were having on the way. When we got to the square and the Delanceys opened the gates, the guys started teasing them, as usual. Instead of keeping his anger directed at the ones who were sayin' stuff, Oscar turned to me, knowing I was an easy target. He pushed me down to the ground, and I managed to be silent, despite the pain that shot through my leg as I fell. Race got in Oscar's face, and Jack was at my side, helping me up.
"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.
"You don't ruin anything," he brushed my hair from my face again, smiling with sympathy. "If I had the same childhood you did, I'd be acting the same way you are."
"It's not like you had a great one, though," I said, beginning to calm down.
"Well, no, but I wasn't getting beat day in and day out, both verbally and physically," I looked away from him as he spoke, finally starting to allow myself to believe what he was saying, and agree with it. "Crutchie, if you don't tell me what's wrong, though, I can't help." I looked back at him now, sighing.
"I just... I had a really f-ed up dream," I said, and Jack chuckled as I said 'f-ed,' making me smile, too. He then settled back down, wiping my face gently with his thumb.
"What happened?"
"It started with me running home from school. I guess I had a bad day, because I got bullied real bad, and it was just worse than usual or something. I went to my room and eventually my Mom opened the door, and hugged me." I felt a few tears stream down my face, and I prepared for what I had to say next. "When she let go, we were standing and I didn't have my crutch. She had a suitcase and I asked where she was going, and she just said that she was leaving. I begged her to take me with her. She just... Stared at me blankly." I took a shaky breath, looking away from Jack for just a moment. "She told me that I'd be a problem, and when I looked down, I had my crutch again. I asked her one more time to take me with, but she still refused. She said I'd be weighing her down and that I wasn't worth it." Jack kissed my forehead once I had finished, making me feel better.
"None of that is true. Those are the words of your Dad being said by your Mom, just because your brain is mean." I laughed a little, making him smile. "You know that, right?" I nodded, looking down.
"Mhm, but it still just... Messes me up." I spoke quietly again, looking back at Jack.
"You never told me that you were bullied," he said, making my heart drop.
"Oh," was all I could say, feeling embarrassed.
"You never got a break, did you?" He asked, and I shook my head.
"Being here is the first time I've gotten a break since I was born." Jack looked upset as I spoke, pushing my hair back a third time.
"What happened? I mean, at school, what went on?"
"It's embarrassing," I said, looking down.
"How?" He asked, and I kept looking away from him.
"'Cause it just proves that I'm weak," I mumbled, looking back to him.
"No it doesn't, Crutchie," he said, smiling a little.
"They just beat me up and said things to me, especially about my limp." I rubbed my eyes, wiping my face dry again.
"I know you said your foot's been givin' you trouble for a while, but how long?" I thought for a moment, not really sure.
"I think it started when I was... Eight? That's when my Dad broke my leg and it never healed right." Jack seemed to grow angry now, not at me, but at my Dad.
"Did he not get a doctor to help you?" He asked, and I shook my head.
"No, he thought I was lying, so I just had to walk on it as best I could. After it happened he just kept targeting it, which is what made it get worse and worse. I never used anything to help me walk until now." I shifted just a little closer to Jack, trying to warm myself up a bit. "The kids in my class did the same. They would yell things at me and make fun of my limp when I walked. Whenever they beat me up, they targeted my foot, just like my Dad." Jack took a deep breath as I spoke, likely trying to calm down.
"You didn't deserve any of that, Crutchie," he said with a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. We stayed silent for a moment, both of us lost in thought.
"You're the only person in my life to show me love," I said, continuing to look at him.
"What about your Mom?" He innocently asked, and I couldn't help but tense up as I prepared to accept the truth.
"If she loved me, she wouldn't of left me behind." I got out, choking up a little. I felt that I was about to cry again, so I shifted closer to Jack, burying my head in his shirt. "Please don't ever go," I whispered, feeling Jack put his arms around me.
"I promise that I'm not goin' anywhere," he whispered back, holding me even tighter.
"I love you," I said, feeling more exhausted than ever.
"I love you too," Jack said back, kissing me on the head again. I fell asleep just minutes later, as I couldn't fight it anymore, despite how badly I wanted to stay up and talk.
(word count - 2298)