warning: violence is in this chapter, along with heavy language, and abuse.
Waking up the next day wasn't as pleasant as I would have liked, considering I woke up at six in the evening to Daisy howling. I groaned as I pulled my exhausted body out of the bed, and grabbed at my head. My throat was on fire and a headache was coursing through my skull as I trudged to my door. Bile was already rising up my throat as I eased my door open to the hallway and it projected when I saw what was the cause of Daisy's barking. My mouth burned as the vomit spewed out of me and onto the floor. I stared at Richard with as much anger as I could muster in my recovering state. His lip curled in disgust as his eyes flickered from me to the puddle
of vomit at his feet.
Before I could think I shoved him down, in turn causing him to slip and fall into my puke. My feet squelched in it, but I couldn't find it in myself to care as I pressed a foot on his chest and narrowed my eyes.
"Listen here you piece of shit," I sneered. I stepped harder on his chest.
I continued, "I don't know why you're here or what you're tryna do, but fuck off. I don't need a reminder and my mom doesn't need another goddamn stressor."
He gasped in pain, maybe even slight disgust, "Diego, shut the fuck up."
I kicked his jaw, "You first, Richard."
The older man grabbed my ankle and threw it off of him. He grappled his way up from the floor and adrenaline crackled through my veins as I raced off towards the front of the house. Daisy's barking was incessant as I slung the front door open and raced down to the grass and around to my backyard. I could hear Richard stumbling throughout the house and I circled to the tool shed. Fumbling through all of the random shit my mom had thrown into I finally saw what I needed.
I grabbed the shovel and had it pressed tightly into my chest as I held my breath. Richard was unpredictable and I had to be ready for him, even if it meant bombarding him at the last minute. My back was pressed against the right side of the shed, on the side of the door and I waited to throw myself through it. His footsteps could be heard very softly and I heard him stalking to the shed. When I saw the knob turn I kicked it open and thrusted the shovel into his gut. He let out a strained yelp and fell backwards.
"Fuck you," I spat.
He struggled to take in a breath, "Di-ego." A sharp inhale interrupted my name as he fought through the pain.
I rolled my eyes, "What? You're sorry? Or, wait, wait, you didn't do anything. That's what you told the jury, right? When you put dad away?"
His eyes seemed to burn with the fury when I finished. Richard tried to sit up and I pushed him back down with the shovel. Another groan left him as he gritted his teeth, "Shut up, cunt. I had to do it."
I let out a hysterical laugh, "You had to? You had to? Why? So you could keep slingin' goddamn coke? For me not to have a dad and your bastard could? Oh, fuck you. I can't wait for you to get what's comin' to you."
"Diego, you're young and you don't know everything like you think," he protested, weakly from the grass.
"Huh? So, I'm too young to know that incriminating someone for statutory rape of my ex girlfriend who they got pregnant is wrong? Well, fuck, I guess I don't have goddamn morals then, Richard," I questioned with sarcasm.
Suddenly, I was thrown on the ground and Richard had the shovel pressed on my throat. He had somehow twisted the shovel from my hands and had me pinned to the ground. I swallowed harshly and felt the metal press into my adam's apple. Richard's face was cold and his eyes hot, as he pressed the shovel down roughly. Adrenaline kept pulsing through my veins, but I remained still.
"You fuckin' maggot," he snarked, "Your dad didn't deserve to be a fuckin' dad. Your girlfriend? Laken? She came onto me, and her pussy was young and tight. How would I turn that down?"
"She was fourteen, goddammit. You're over fuckin' thirty! You're a pedophile!" I wailed.
He scoffed, "She got pregnant didn't she? That means she's a woman."
I let out a gasp, "What the fuck? You tellin' me I'm a man because I can blow my load? Fuck out here with that shit."
The shovel started to sink in too far in my skin for it to be comfortable anymore and I saw that he had leaned back on his left foot. He start rambling again and I threw my foot into his ankle, he stumbled. My fingers slid into the damp soil as I scrambled up from the ground and broke into a run. I felt sick again, but I had to push it past it until I got to Gus' house or Richard would get me this time. My feet seemed to fly down the street. I rounded the corner and kept pounding down the pavement until his house started becoming closer. My stomach churned again and I fell into a bush on the side of the road, emptying my stomach a second time. The adrenaline began to wear thin and my body felt weak. I fumbled for my phone in my pocket, sliding it unlocked, and calling Gus.
I waited anxiously for him to pick up because I had no one else to turn to. Gus was all I had, and he knew that. Almost everyone had to have known that by now, but I didn't ponder these thoughts for too long. Soon enough the phone stopped ringing and I heard static crackle on the other line.
"Dude, I'm fucked up," I slurred into my phone.
"The fuck you callin' him for," I heard Trace spit.
My head pounded, "Aw, fuck, man. I need goddamn Gus. Not your shit, bitch." The line crackled and I heard a grunt.
"Wassup," I heard Gus' thick voice rasp.
"Bro, I'm fucked. I'm in a goddamn bush in my puke and my fuckin' uncle and," then I heaved again into the bush.
I heard him mumble something, "Shit. Where are you?"
"In a bush somewhere a little into your neighborhood," I moaned.
"Got you," he said. The line went silent. I dropped my phone and curled in on myself.
The next few minutes felt like hours as they dragged, and I felt dread coil in my stomach. I hoped to god that Richard wasn't going to find me. There wasn't anything left in me to run off of to fight him off. My head started feeling light and I let out a weak yelp when someone jerked my ankle from under me.
The sunlight hit my eyes and I let out a moan, "Oh fuck, what?" I blinked and made out a blob of fiery red hair and bleached hair hovering above me. There stood Trace and Gus.
"Dude, you got so much to fuckin' spill when we get back," Gus muttered while he looped his arms under my knees and around my shoulders. My head lolled onto his shoulder and I felt tears prick my eyes while I nodded in agreement. His arms felt warm and strong around me as he laid me down in the back of Trace's truck. I pressed my face into the cloth and felt small sobs wrack my body.
Only a few minutes later we were in Gus' house and I was laying on his bed. I groaned when he flopped on it beside me and turned my head to the trashcan. Third time's the charm. He wrinkled his nose in disgust when I looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and vomit dripping down my chin.
"Bro, I fuckin' love you, but you look awful," he laughed.
I rolled my eyes, "Whatever."
Trace let out a sigh and turned around in his swivel chair, "Okay, so what's goin' on?"
"Listen, what I'm about to tell y'all is some real shit, okay? No telling anyone, not even if you change the names, and you don't get to bring it up unless I do," I paused, taking a moment to breathe, "Got it?"
They nodded their heads solemnly and murmured their agreements. I gulped down a breath of air and nodded, stalling time because I wasn't ready to recount this. I wasn't ready to relive every painful memory and tell them all about my fucked up past.
"Y'all know the Citgo on the corner of North Gaither and West Main?" I asked, waiting for them to nod.
"Well, I met this girl named Laken there almost a year ago, and she was pretty lit. We weren't anything major, but we had somethin' poppin'. Y'know? So, we were together, dating, or whatever for like a couple months," I clenched my fist and looked away from them.
"We were chillin' at my house one night and my family had stopped by. I didn't think nothin' of it because like it's my family, so what's to stress? Anyway, she goes to the bathroom and it lasts for a hot ass minute. When Laken came back in my room she was gigglin' and blushin' but I still ain't thought nothin' of it," I bit my lip, struggling to finish.
"Well, a few weeks later she comes up and tells me she's pregnant, but I hadn't fucked her. So, I'm sittin' there wonderin' who got my girlfriend pregnant when she says that it was my uncle. Apparently, she had come onto him that night in the bathroom or whatever and he fucked her," my hands were shaking as I stared at them.
Gus gasped, "Bro, what the fuck? I'm so sorry."
I rubbed my hands over my face and took in a shaky breath, "That ain't all. Then her parents found out because I told them about it. I wasn't gonna let him get away with that shit. Goddamn, the piece of shit is like thirty or so! But when I told them I was so scared and nervous I didn't mention a name, just my uncle. So when they confronted Laken she threw it on my dad because she loved Richard, apparently," my chest hurt from reliving it all.
"Anyway, charges are being pressed against my dad and Richard does nothing to stop it. He lets my dad take the fall and go to prison for this shit. So, that's it," I shuddered. Crying came easy as I laid my head back on the pillow and the room felt thick with tension.
"So, what about Laken?" Trace asked, softly.
I let out a bitter laugh, "She had an abortion. Her parents and Richard pushed her to do it. Obviously her parents wanted it because she was so young, but Richard? Not so much. He wanted it because he wanted to keep slingin' dope, but he gonna say that my dad don't deserve to be a dad. Shit, at least my dad supported me, but he fuckin' dipped out because he ain't want all that."
Gus' brown eyes were wide with shock and his mouth was opening and closing, "Diego, I don't even know what to say. Holy shit. Holy shit. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
Trace just stared quietly at the rug, "Is there even anything to say to that?"
"No, I don't think so," I chuckled.
Gus cleared his throat, "Why's he back then?"
"To remind me of what he did I guess, but I don't care. He's a piece of shit and I fuckin' hate him," I sneered.
"Yeah, I don't blame you there," Trace joked, lightly.
"Me either," Gus agreed.
I felt depressed, anxious, and nauseous. The window was streaked as I stared of it with barely any emotion left to give. The two boys kept staring at me and I kept my gaze averted from theirs. My chest felt empty, as if it was about to crack, when it hit.
"Who got xans?"
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hey y'all it's fuckin LJ 💔 and this chapter was one hell of a ride. so there's the tea on richard! it made me feel physically ill having to write that, just so you know.
on a lighter note: I HAVE 450 READS! FUCKIN LIT! thank y'all for being so nice and interactive w/ me!
this one goes out to lake-vibes !
remember to vote/comment follow 💔
xoxo xanarchyking💔