Warnings ⚠: Child Abuse, Rape, Violence, Religion, Drug Use, Alcohol Use, Use of Slurs, Homophobia, Bullying, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Actions, Gun Use.
Josiah's P.O.V.
-Sunday, November 7th-
I didn't sleep at all. Not surprising, but I still hope Damien got some rest. He seems to have been getting less and less sleep ever since we met.
Another sign that I'm stressing him out.
Me, and all the other shit that's going on in his life.
My phone went off with a text about an hour ago, but I haven't checked it.
I pick up my phone and turn it on, bringing it close to my face to read the sender's name.
From Pierre...?
Pierre: Did Damien get home safely?
Did he...what?
Was he not home?
I look out the window, finding that it is officially light outside. That means I can get up and see if Damien is awake yet.
And apparently check if he's even here at all.
I have to. Considering I can't go anywhere or do anything without him...
I run my hand along the wall as I go to the door and open it, jumping back immediately.
Damien is standing there, hand up like he was about to knock on the door.
He takes in a little surprised gasp, and it's the cutest thing I've heard all week.
"What are you doing?" I chuckle.
He holds out a Pop-Tart.
"Pop-Tart." He says simply.
"I'm not hungry." I tell him as I take it and immediately bite into it.
Delicious...sugar...
Yum.
"You seem hungry." He remarks.
I acknowledge to myself that I didn't eat anything yesterday. Oh, well. Definitely isn't the first time I've done that.
"I'm definitely not. Are we doing anything today?"
I try to forget about yesterday altogether. It was just an awful day and nothing good came from it.
He rubs his eyes and then sticks his hands in his pockets. "Do you want to maybe...go get lunch? Like a date? Like...a date date?"
"...Out to a real place? With real food?" I hesitate.
"Yeah." He replies.
"Umm... Sure. When?" I munch on the Pop-Tart, eyes going back and forth from the floor to his face repeatedly.
I hate it when people look at me.
It's just the feeling of eyes burning into my soul and the fact that anyone sees me at all. It's worse when I can somewhat see them and I know for a fact they're staring.
He smiles widely. "I don't know. Like 12-ish?"
I push my hair out of my eyes and look out the window as I finish my breakfast.
"Sounds good. I'm going to finish some homework then get ready to go." I yawn and go to my backpack.
He doesn't leave the doorway. He is still watching me.
I grab my books and sit down on my bed, pulling everything out and setting it all up, surrounding myself with school textbooks.
I look up at Damien.
"Did you get any sleep?" I ask, since he doesn't seem to have anything else to do.
Did he go somewhere last night...?
I grab my phone again and send Pierre a text back.
Yes. He's with me. Is something wrong?
"Not really, no. Did you?" Damien asks.
Lie.
I have to lie.
"Yep. Slept all night." I beam.
My eyes fall back down to my textbooks. He still doesn't leave, even after the conversation is obviously over.
If I've determined that it's over, why hasn't he?
I'm worried about him.
"You want to join me?" I offer.
He shrugs. "Sure, I guess."
He comes over to me and sits close. I lean against him a bit to assure him that everything is okay.
Everything is not okay.
I don't like being touched.
I just want him to be happy.
"Which class is your favorite?" I ask.
School has always been my getaway place, but I suppose this house is far safer than school has ever been.
That is saying something. Because his parents are criminals who fucking kill people.
"None of them."
...Right.
I forgot that he is a tough guy who doesn't do the homework and who shows up late to classes so much that the teachers are all used to it.
The teachers are so adjusted to the bullies not doing any work. I don't know how they keep getting away with it.
Apparently Damien wasn't, though. Considering...tutoring.
"I like my math class a lot. Miss Liu is so sweet, she always makes sure everyone is following along and she lets me go ahead," I pull the textbook onto my lap, "Don't you enjoy any class at all? You're good at math when you work at it." "I like history, sometimes." He tells me, a bit dismissively.
I bite my lip and turn to where I put my history book.
"I'm sorry. You can talk about stuff you like. I'm going to do homework, but I'll listen to you, okay? Tell me about your band people with the tattoos, and the hair covering their eyes." I ruffle my hair so it's over my eyes for emphasis.
I look up slightly at him, making some hair fall back.
Doesn't matter. I can't see anyway.
I might as well become one of Damien's band people.
If tattoos weren't so fucking stupid.
He laughs, "No, I want to study."
"All right, then I'll question you on what happened in July of 1776." I stare at him expectantly.
He pauses for a moment. "People...died."
"...Well, you aren't wrong, so I won't fight you on that."
Oh my God. I love him so much...
He's such a dumb-ass. Frankly, it's hilarious.
There's no way he actually doesn't know.
It doesn't matter. It's funny.
Just the fact that he is sitting next to me right now is making me ecstatic. I'm so glad my brain isn't obsessing over what happened yesterday, because it would usually do that.
It's definitely not doing that...
I rest my head on his shoulder.
I'm fine...
I better start being fine.
This is so scary. After what happened...
"You're distracting me..." I whine, mimicking him a bit, "I just want to talk to you instead of doing work."
"I'm studying! You're distracting me!"
I adjust my glasses and hold the math book where I can sort of read it. "Stop being so much fun." I warn.
I start reading, to remind myself of all the formulas before doing the homework.
I almost have all the ones we have learned so far memorized, I just need some reminders sometimes because I forget a lot.
I hate that I forget everything.
Also...I hate being blind. I just wanna read my books...
And see Damien...
And be able to drive...
And to be able to remember what my mom looked like.
"Damien," I grin when I get an idea, holding the book out to him, "Can you read this for me?" I muster up the sweetest, most innocent look I could possibly have on my face.
This is okay.
He smiles, "Yeah, of course..."
...
A couple of hours pass without either of us moving much. I quickly find that having someone else read the information helps get things done a lot faster.
I got everything done already.
So, I grab his hand to get his attention.
"Are we going to go get lunch now?" I ask.
He seems to check the time on his phone, "If you want to, then yeah. I need a shower first."
"Me, too," I remember, "Good thing your house is gigantic and has more than one bathroom." I get up off the bed and go to the door, opening it and motioning for him to leave.
They have, like...twenty bathrooms.
Each one is three times larger than the single one at home.
"Alright. I'll be right back."
"Do I need to dress nice, or can I just wear a sweater and jeans?" I ask before he leaves.
"Just what you normally wear is okay."
...
I grab Damien's hand and pull him toward the garage.
"Do you want to take your motorcycle?" I give him the choice.
He deserves to have more choice to do what he wants in his life. If anything good came from yesterday, it's that I finally acknowledged that.
"We can take the car."
Oh, hell yes!
Phew.
Close one.
"Okay." I nod.
I leave a kiss on his cheek before walking ahead of him, kind of feeling like I'm dragging him along with me, but he doesn't seem to mind. I bring him to the car.
"Do you think that, in the near future, some sort of insane technology will come out and fix my brain so I'll be able to drive?" I question as I sit in the passenger seat and put my seatbelt on.
"Maybe. If it happens, I could teach you some things."
"Yeah. And I could get a part-time job when I'm in college. I could drive myself around and go wherever I want to. Like...the library!" I daydream a bit, imagining a fantasy world where I have the ability to do anything.
And I don't mean anything as in anything my heart desires. I mean anything at all.
I'm so much more dependent than I should be.
"...I don't know if you should have a job. I just want to keep you with me forever."
Only if we could get three dogs, and seven cats, and a tank full of fish.
And a snake named Pancake. Irony.
"Oh my gosh! What if I work at the library?! Can you imagine?!" I stare wide-eyed at him, so excited.
That would be amazing!
If technology fixed me, and I could see...and actually be able to properly arrange things.
My mind wants to put everything in a logical order and keep things looking nice, but because of all the damage, it cannot do shit.
"I think you would be good at that. It seems like something you would enjoy."
"I don't want to leave you, either, but I really, really want to be able to do stuff on my own. Like paying for lunch." I remark.
I haven't ever paid for anything before... I haven't ever had any cash to just spend on things.
I don't know where the store is anyway. I couldn't walk to it, even if I wanted to and I had enough money for it.
"...What, exactly are we eating anyway? Where are we going?" I ask as we back out of the garage.
He shrugs, "I was thinking that new restaurant that just opened up across town. I don't remember what it's called, but the name was really stupid."
"I don't know what you're talking about... What do they sell?"
"It's Mexican food I think. Like, Quesadillas and stuff."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... What for dessert?" I grin at him.
"Whatever you want...within reason, that is." He says, smiling over at me.
I shut myself up and look out the window.
I don't know about Damien, but I feel a lot better today, despite not getting a wink of sleep last night. I just feel like things are starting to get worked out slowly but surely.
We'll figure things out.
We'll be okay...
When we arrive to the restaurant, I immediately get out of the car after he parks, and I stare intently at him as he walks up to me. He starts going toward the front door of the restaurant, but I stay in the same place and continue watching him.
He looks back at me. "What are you doing?"
I just hold out my hand to him.
He stares at me blankly.
"Damien!" I whine.
He chuckles and takes my hand. I intertwine our fingers.
This time, we walk up to the doors together. I stop and look up. Above the double front door there is a big sign that reads "PEARBEETLES"
"...That name is kinda..." I murmur. Sounds familiar. I feel like I might have seen something like this before?
"...Weird, I know."
"I love it!" I cheer.
He holds the door open for me like the dapper gentleman he is. He is so strange, I love him so much.
I immediately hide behind him when we enter. The place is packed full of people. I pull my hand away to instead cling to his back like a koala bear.
He goes up to the person working up front. I think it's a young woman.
She better stay the fuck away from Damien, I swear...
If another girl flirts with him, it'll ruin every bit of my good mood for the day.
"Hello. How many are in your party this afternoon?" She smiles politely.
She has brown hair. And I feel like she's taller than me.
Probably very pretty...
I look up at Damien, sure that fear is evident in my eyes.
"Two." He says.
"And would you two like a booth or a table today?"
"Booth..." I mumble, because I really want to be in a corner right now.
"Right, it's going to be a ten to fifteen minute wait on that booth. Can I have a name?"
"Cohen." He says.
That's me.
Josiah Cohen.
...Holy shit.
I like it a lot.
She nods. "I'll call you as soon as we have that booth ready for you. Feel free to have a seat." She gestures.
We sit down in the small waiting area, and instead of holding my hand, Damien rests a hand on my knee.
Fuck.
No...
No, not right now.
No more.
I keep my eyes on him so I don't have to acknowledge how many other people are in the building.
...And so I can watch him in case he tries to do anything to me.
In public.
At a restaurant.
I have nothing to be afraid of. What's wrong with me?
But why the hell is he touching me?!
A few minutes pass before he looks at me, and my eyes immediately fall to the floor.
"There's a lot of people in here..." I murmur.
"Are there too many people here for you? Do you want to leave?"
I shake my head instantly. It's clear that he wants to do this, so I will do it too. Without complaining.
Same with the touch.
I just need to not complain.
"Are you kidding? I'm starving." I smile.
He smiles back.
Then we wait in silence until a waitress calls the name Cohen. I start clinging to him again as soon as we stand, following the waitress to the booth table.
At least he isn't holding my leg anymore.
Him grabbing me makes me feel like he's going to pull on me...push my legs apart and...and...
I wince.
"My name is Grace, and I will be your server today. What kind of drinks can I start you off with this afternoon?" The waitress asks.
"I'll have some sweet tea." Damien says.
Sweet tea?
"I want...something sweet...?" I have no clue.
Why am I here?!
He pauses to think for a moment, trying to figure out something that I would like.
"He'll have the chocolate milk."
"Sweet tea and chocolate milk. I'll be right back with those. Feel free to look at these menus."
She turns and leaves after pretending to write stuff down on a notepad. I didn't hear the pencil against the paper at all, but she was holding up a notepad, from what I can tell.
She didn't write anything.
...Okay...?
"There's chocolate milk?" I question.
"You've never had chocolate milk?"
"Do they melt chocolate into milk? Is that good...?"
"No. It's from chocolate cows, silly." He boops me on the nose.
I don't have the heart to tell him that I don't like it when he does that.
"There's no such thing as chocolate cows... Is there?" My eyes widen. He has to be lying to me.
"I dunno, man. You tell me."
He looks at the menu.
"...I don't know what this stuff is. I can't read it or see the pictures. What are you getting?" I question.
"I think I'm getting the taco salad."
"I'll get what you're getting. Please tell the girl that I want what you're getting when she comes back."
He nods. "Not a problem."
I love him so much... I don't know what I would do if I was here without him.
Well, I would never be here without him, but...
"Awesome! And if you like it, then it's good! Like the chocolate milk. I bet that's delicious." Right on time, the waitress came over and set the drinks on the table.
It really is just brown milk...
Melted chocolate. In milk. I'm sure of it.
"Alright. Are you two ready to order?" She holds up her notepad again.
"Yeah. We just both want a taco salad."
"Chicken or beef?" She asks.
"Chicken." He answers.
...It suddenly hit me that I am going to eat real food.
...Cool.
She walks away again.
I start tapping on the table, glancing around the room at all the people. Mostly families. Probably parents with their kids. It looks nice.
I wonder if Damien would actually be willing to adopt a kid or two... That's probably a weird thing to ask.
We haven't even been dating for a couple months yet.
"You know," Damien starts, "A Giant African Land snail grows to be 38 centimeters and weigh two pounds."
"No way. Snails can't get that big."
"Well," He says, "Tell that to Google."
"Google doesn't know everything. Anyone can post a website. Google will just show you the most clicked on website, because they think it's the most relevant."
"...I thought it was cool."
I chuckle and bring my eyes to the drink in front of me. He is already sipping at his sweet tea.
"Can I try yours first?"
"Sure. Whatever." He hands it over.
I take a drink of the sweet tea, pondering over the taste.
It's okay... Not the best, but definitely not the worst. I hand it back over.
Regular tea must taste like shit.
I take a drink of the chocolate milk instead.
...That.
That is the best!
"I love this! How do they make it? For real."
"I have no idea."
"Ask Google, then." I take another drink.
He laughs, amused by me. Always my main goal.
I pull my knees up so my feet are resting on the booth seat. I lean against the wall for a moment before beginning to rock back and forth slightly.
"Will they fill this back up when it's empty?" I inquire, about the drink.
"Haven't you ever been to a restaurant before?"
"McDonald's is a restaurant, isn't it? Then I have. If not, then no." I shrug.
"Yeah...no."
I run my hand through my hair a few times. "You didn't answer my question about the drink." I point out.
If this is all I get, I'm not going to drink it all so quickly.
That's a skill I've learned over the years.
I can make one Pop-Tart last all day.
"You get refills." He answers.
Okay. Amazing.
I love this place.
"Wanna see how fast I can drink this whole thing, then?"
"...Don't make yourself throw up."
"Why not? That's how you know you've had enough." I state, smiling at him.
Alternatively, that's how you know you've cried yourself sick.
Then you get hit with the remote.
He shakes his head. "Okay. I'll chug my tea and you chug your chocolate milk."
"I'm not going to. But I want to. I just needed to let you know that."
The waitress comes back, now holding food. She sets one plate in front of Damien, and the other on the table beside me.
"Be careful. The plates are hot. If you need anything, just call me over."
"Thank you."
She leaves again.
I look over at Damien once before turning my eyes down to the food.
"So... What's in this? Chicken, obviously. I'm assuming beans, and...green stuff...?" I point at each thing.
"Lettuce?"
"Looks gross." I grin at him.
If it's green, unless it's candy, it's gross.
"Try it."
I set the chocolate milk down and grab the fork. Carefully, I scoop out a bite and eat it. Damien has already started eating casually, as a normal person does, I guess...
Okay.
So...
"Not a fan of lettuce." I tell him.
The chicken is fine. Good enough. I don't despise this, so I should just shut up and eat it. Shut up and do as I'm supposed to.
No big deal.
"If you don't like it, you don't have to eat it." He tells me.
Bullshit. I want him to be happy.
If I could choose it, I wouldn't have eaten anything in the past few months with him.
"I'll eat it," I promise, "How much did it cost?"
"Not much. You're fine."
"Okay, so not much to you is, like, two hundred dollars right? If so, then lettuce is expensive." I joke.
"No. It was, like, ten." He corrects.
Too much to spend on me. I shouldn't have it.
I'm bad.
I look down at the food and eat a bit more of it, before grabbing the drink again.
The drink fixes the fact that lettuce is life-ruining.
"Okay. Cool. What about dessert...? When's that happening?"
"You don't eat dessert until the end of the meal. So we have a bit of time till then."
...That's cool, too. Anything goes.
I sit quietly and try to make myself eat the whole thing, ultimately not even having half of the food gone before my cup is completely empty.
I look down into the empty glass cup.
... I want more chocolate milk.
End