A/N: I warn you guys now, this chapter is less laughs and more depression. i mean it depressed the shit out of me when i was writing it but it needed to be done. i couldnt keep you guys waiting and there is no way i can make this chapter humourous. Hope you still like it though :D
Thank you to Mona-Mae for the awesome banner i love it!
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I didn’t open up a can of worms.
What I had opened was a bag full of shit that I could never close again.
I don’t know how long it took for me to speak once Drake told me. It might have been a minute; it might have been ten because all I could think to myself was that I must have heard him wrong. There was no way it could be true, that Drake was the reason why that guy was paralyzed. The reason why he couldn’t even wipe his own mouth.
“Please say something.” Drake almost begged, a pained look on his face as he looked at me clearly shocked into silence. I don’t think that has ever happened.
My mouth opened to speak but no sound came out at first. What the hell do you say to that?
“What did you do?” I asked in horror as my eyes automatically went back to the guy in the wheelchair. Suddenly it was a lot harder to look at him. I shook my head “You did that? You made him like that?”
He pressed his lips together, looking ashamed as he nodded his head.
I stared at him, shock still running through my body. I found myself looking at him harder than I ever have, memories I had with him flashing through my head as I studied him. I knew he had problems and I knew he was violent, but I never thought the Drake I knew, the Drake I practically lived with would be capable of something like this.
“And there it is…” Drake announces, his voice a mixture of smugness and hurt “…that look. I told you you’d look at me differently.”
I swallowed hard, not being able to disagree with him just yet. Suddenly I mentally shook my head, realising I wasn’t going to let him be right. I wasn’t going to judge him or look at him any differently. I was going to stay calm and remember that this is Drake, the Drake I’ve known since I was four years old. I wasn’t going to look at him differently; he wasn’t going to be right on this.
I found myself using his own advice and thinking about the night we watched that zombie film when we were younger, remembering that’s Drake. The boy who peed himself over a zombie jumping out of a wardrobe. Not the boy who puts people in wheelchairs.
“Explain.” I found myself saying, realising I needed to know more. I was going to let him explain, and I prayed to god it would be enough to keep my opinion of him the same.
His eyes never left me, and I noticed he had not looked through the window at the guy apart from when he pointed him out to me. I don’t think he could.
“You don’t want to bolt for the door yet?” he asked, his voice almost deflated as he is so sure that I was going to turn my back on him.
Like everyone has done…
I shook my head “You said you were going to tell me everything. I’m waiting for that.”
He bore his eyes into mine, I think trying to see if I meant it. Probably trying to predict how close I was to actually bolting for the door.
I was determined I was not going to look at him differently. I had asked to hear it and I could handle it. I was still thinking of that night, remembering the 8 year old boy who didn’t scare me.
‘Please don’t tell Nate’ Drake begged as soon as he realised I spotted the wet patch on his pyjama bottoms...
“Who is he?” I asked with a bit more confidence as my mind was still thinking of simpler times.
Drake didn’t break eye contact “His name is James Roberts. He’s 46 years old and has 2 daughters.”
I tried to keep my face impartial and just listen to him.
The pyjama bottoms he had on had little toy cars all over them, they were his favourite pair. I think he was quite gutted we had to throw them away that night…
“He was my mum’s boyfriend.” He finally confesses, and instantly pieces start getting put together in my head. I ignored the puzzle master in my head as I realised I was not going to jump to conclusions. That’s one of the reasons why people judge others. They don’t know the full story.
“What happened?” I prompted him as I realised he was silent after telling me that, his lips pressed together hard as he was clearly remembering what happened.
He looked around awkwardly; obviously not wanting to say the words out loud but realising he had to.
“You remember the last night I was at your house before I got put inside? The night Nate and I stole your neighbours parrot and were trying to teach it how to sing ‘Bump N Grind?’” He asked, and I smiled slightly as I remembered that. I remembered that night clearly. That was the last night I would see Drake for 2 years. Drake carried on “Well I went home that night to get some more clothes, I think I was out of fresh underwear or something-“
“You’d lost your last fresh pair earlier that night at that girls house with the batman tattoo on her lower back.” I reminded him before I could stop myself. I felt a little embarrassed as I still remembered that, and I saw the stunned look on his face as he was shocked I still did too.
“Yeah, how the hell do you remember that?” he asked amazed, and I shrugged.
“I don’t know, I'm a girl I remember everything.” I lied, because in all honestly I had the memory of a 94 year old with dementia. I don’t know why that particular event was lodged in my brain, but as Drake mentioned it I suddenly remembered that girl and how much I didn’t like her and her stupid batman tattoo. Okay, it was a cool tattoo but I didn’t like her, so I had to not like the tattoo as well.
“Anyway, I went back to my house and as I opened the front door all I could hear was shouting. I didn’t think much of it really, I was used to hearing my mum argue with her endless string of boyfriends once my dad walked out.” He carried on explaining. He gritted his teeth as he prepared to explain the next bit “Then I heard my mum screaming.”
I swallowed hard, wanting to go over and comfort him as I could see how hard this was for him to talk about. But I couldn’t yet.
“I walked into her bedroom to see what was going on, and he had her pinned on the bed…” he stopped, finding it hard to say the words “…She was struggling from under him, screaming for him to get off. Her nose was bleeding from where he’d hit her while they were arguing, and he was forcing...”
He stopped again, looking up at the ceiling clenching his jaw as the scene must have been replaying in his head. How could it not. Anyone would have that image permanently burned into their head.
“He was raping her?” I finished for him, my voice soft as I did realise how hard it was for him. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, and I noticed how red they had gotten since he started telling me this story.
“And that’s when I flipped.” He continued, not confirming my statement but that was confirmation in itself “I stormed into the room and pulled him off of her. I don’t really remember it properly, all I remember is being so angry I was actually finding it hard to breathe. I had so much rage in me as I threw him off the bed I couldn’t stop. I punched him, I kicked him and I couldn’t stop.” He swallowed hard, still not meeting my eye. He was staring straight ahead, lost in his own world “I remember my mum screaming at me to stop once she saw the blood covering his face. I didn’t listen to her and carried on. She actually tried to pull me back, but I couldn’t physically stop. When she tried to pull me away I shoved her off me so hard she fell back and hit the dressing table. And I still didn’t stop.”
It was my turn to swallow as I listened to him. I think I was swallowing down my anxiety there because I was picturing the scene. As much as it pains me to say it, it wasn’t hard to picture, Drake being so angry that no sense could be talked into him. I remembered last night at the bar and how it took three people to stop him from beating the shit out of Garry.
Garry didn’t know how lucky he was.
I also realised why Drake’s mum was so scared of him. She knew what her son was capable of.
“She hasn’t looked at me the same since that night…” his voice was so low I barely heard it, and I knew straight away he was talking about his mum.
I reminded myself I wasn’t going to be like her. I wasn’t going to turn my back on him and I was going to remember the Drake I had grown up with, not the crazed animal.
I realised I was going to need a few more memories and not just the Drippy Drake story.
That time when I sprained my ankle, and Drake came to visit me with a bag full of Babybells because I had an obsession with cheese at the time…
“That’s why you never came back to our place.” I suddenly realised, remembering back to that night and wondering to Lacey as we got into bed why Drake never came back. As I think back to that night a little harder, I suddenly remember Nate going missing halfway through the night. “Nate came to find you.”
Drake nodded “I rang him when my mum called the ambulance. He came over straight away; I didn’t even need to explain what happened he just knew something wasn’t right from the tone of my voice.”
I felt my stomach flip as I realise now more than ever how close Drake and Nate were. Nate dropped everything and went without a hesitation. For over two years he did not tell a single soul what Drake had done, including his own sister, and he told me everything.
I let out a breath as I thought all of this over, my eyes glancing to James Roberts in the wheelchair, suddenly feeling a lot less sorry for him knowing what he had done. But there was still a part of me that could not believe Drake was capable of doing that to another person.
“You had a reason.” I told him, turning to face him “Anyone would have done the same.”
He looked at me like I was crazy, before he shook his head “Not everyone would have taken it that far.”
“You saw red Drake, he was raping your mum anyone-“
“I put him in a coma Mia.” Drake stopped me dead in my tracks. My mouth fell open “I beat him so badly I put him in a coma for over 4 months. His daughters had to visit their father in the hospital every day for 4 months while he was plugged into a machine, and when he did finally wake up that is what was left of him.” he almost yelled, gesturing his head to the window and to him in the wheelchair.
On my 13th birthday, he brought me a boxed fudge cake with a red ribbon on it and a card that said ‘Don’t eat it all Mimi you’re a teen now, no guy will want you if you have more rolls than a bakery.’
“You made a mistake Drake.” I found myself saying as I tried so hard to remember the Drake I knew, and keep him as the Drake I knew.
His eyes snapped to mine, his expression was icy. He took a few steps forward until he was literally inches from my face. He looked down on me, our bodies so close but not touching.
“When I pulled him off my mother, I threw him on the floor and punched him in the face until it was completely covered in blood. It was like he was wearing a mask. I then grabbed him by the collar and head butted him, smashing his head on the floor a few times…”
I knew what he was trying to do, and I was determined not to let it work. I thought about my first day at a new school when I was about 8…
I went home crying and told my dad how a girl called me ugly and made everyone not speak to me all day. The next day Drake found the girl and told her if she didn’t say sorry to me, he would make her parents put her up for adoption. She apologised at lunch.
“I stood up when he could barely keep his eyes open and was begging me to stop, his voice hardly audible because he was in so much pain. This is when my mum tried to hold me back and got shoved for her troubles. She had a bruised rib by the way because she hit the dresser so hard.”
He stole the answers to an exam I was taking when I was 14 because he knew just how much I sucked at maths.
“I turned back to him and booted him in the stomach a few times until he was spitting out blood. When he rolled over clutching his stomach in pain, I finished off by lifting my foot and stomping on his back. I stomped on it so hard I severed his spine. I severed it so badly the doctors said there was no chance he will ever walk again, and his entire body was paralyzed. He would need a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”
He called me Mimi. He was the only one to call me Mimi.
“Of course they said all of this once he finally woke up from the coma I put him in; because for a while it was touch in go whether he was going to make it at all. When he did finally wake up, he was completely brain damaged. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move. He didn’t even recognise his own daughters.”
He called me Mimi. I was his Mimi.
“I could have stopped after the first few punches, but I didn’t. I could have stopped after I hurt my own mother, but I didn’t. I didn’t stop until I destroyed that man completely, I didn’t stop until I was satisfied that I had put him through as much pain as I possibly could-“
“Stop!” I demanded, almost begged. He looked down at me with a hard expression, knowing his words had done the effect he wanted them to. His eyes were so blood shot now I knew he was gritting his teeth to stop them from watering. I on the other hand couldn’t stop, and before I knew it tears were actually coming out of my eyes. I looked at him pleadingly “Please stop.”
“You wanted to know.” He informed me “This is what I'm capable of. I’m an animal, someone who beat another person so brutally they were on the verge of death. And that’s just what the judge said about me, let alone what his family said.” He gestured his head to the window again at James “The only reason I didn’t get 15 years inside was because it was classed as ‘self-defence’ because of what he was doing to my mum and because of my age.”
“You were just a kid…” my voice was barely audible as I spoke through tears.
“Exactly. I was capable of that at just 16. What does that say about me?” he said, his voice pained.
I swallowed hard and wiped my eyes, looking up at him a lot more confidently than I felt.
“You’re not an animal though, because you regret it.” I tell him, trying with everything I had to cling onto that image of Drake I had known for over twelve years of my life. He doesn’t say anything and presses his lips together. I take a step forward and place a hand on his cheek, caressing his bottom lip with my thumb “I can tell. I can see it from your face you regret it. You were scared to come to a hospital because of this, because you felt guilty, right? That’s what doesn’t make you animal.”
I felt his lip tremble slightly as my words got to him, his eyes watering ever so slightly but he was tensing so much no tears fell. He was trying with everything he had not to let them fall.
“I regret it more than anything else in my life.” He finally spoke, his voice strained. I felt a small relief inside me as I heard him say this, making me want to cling onto the image of Drake I had tighter than before because he was a good person. Then, he spoke again. This time his voice was croaked, strained so much if I wasn’t so close to him I wouldn’t have heard what he said “But I would still do it all over again if I had to.”
It felt like the wind was knocked out of me. My stomach dropped until it basically splattered all over the floor. My thumb stopped caressing his lip, and I automatically took my hand away from his face. He looked hurt as I did, but he didn’t look surprised.
“He was hurting my mum. I regret it, but I wouldn’t hesitate doing it all again. The guilt’s not enough to make me feel any differently.” He told me, his voice low “That’s what makes me an animal Mia.”
And that’s when it slipped out of my fingers. The image of the boy I knew since he was six years old, the boy who protected me and made me laugh throughout the years was not what I was seeing anymore. He was still Drake, but he was…tainted.
How could I like someone who was capable of doing this?
I understood it was to protect his mum, I completely understood that but he went too far. He should have stopped after the first few punches, but I could picture it. He would have been so angry he was a different person, unreachable and distant. It wasn’t even that that made him different in my eyes. It was the fact given the chance; he would not change his action. He had remorse sure, but not enough to stop if it happened again.
It wasn’t even about James anymore, to be honest I felt no remorse for him because I knew what he had done to Drake’s mum, it was about Drake. If given the chance for a do over, Drake should think to himself ‘I don’t want to be a man who is capable of that.’
I mean what if something like this happened in the future? If someone was hurting me let’s say, would Drake put them in a coma as well? Not caring about the damage he is doing not only to that person, but to himself? He had lost two years of his life over this, and clearly he was prepared to lose many more because as he said he would do it all again if he had to.
I realised the thing I couldn’t cope with was that if he got angry again to that extent, I might lose him again for another two years, if not more.
His index finger was now below my chin, tilting my head up to meet his eyes.
“I get it, if you want to bolt out the door I really do. I wouldn’t blame you at all.” His voice was soft, almost lost. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked down into mine “But I really hope you don’t. I’m not a good guy, I am capable of something that disgusting and I put my hands up to it. But I would never hurt you. That is something I am not capable of, so please…” he drifted off as his voice broke. He took a breath in through his nose as he continued “…please don’t be scared of me. Don’t look at me differently.”
His voice was pleading. It hurt to see him like this and before I knew it the tears were falling from my eyes again. His pleading got to me so much I had to close my eyes to stop from crying like a little girl who just found out Santa is a big fat loser lie.
I hated myself for it, I really did. I wanted nothing more than to stop him from being so hurt, to wipe that look off his face and not see him like this because it was horrible. I had never seen Drake cry, and even though he was technically not crying now it was the closest I’ve ever seen him to it. And that was enough to destroy me.
I took a step back, shaking my head slowly as the tears carried on falling.
I hated myself for it because as I opened my eyes and saw him in front of me, I knew I was looking at him differently.
“I can’t…” I choked through tears, and I instantly saw the hurt in his eyes “I’m so sorry but I can’t.” I felt the tears trying to come out harder, and pressed a hand over my mouth to stop them. “I tried, I really did but not even the zombie story is enough for this Drake. I’m so sorry but it’s too much.”
I turned around and did what he had said I would since we got here.
I bolted for the door.
I walked out of the hospital so fast I almost knocked over every nurse or doctor who was walking my direction. I had my hand pressed over my mouth the entire time, realising I could no longer hold back the tears. I knew people were looking at me funny, wondering what was wrong and why I was power walking through the corridor crying but I honestly didn’t care. I finally made it outside, sprinting out of the automatic doors.
I walked to the wall on my left and leant on it, sinking to the ground as I continued to sob, burying my head into my hands. I hated myself for walking away from him, but I had to. I knew he would never hurt me, but he did scare me. I hated myself because I was the reason why he told me. I asked for it. Drake was right, once he told me I was going to wish to fuck he hadn’t.
But it was too late to turn back now. The damage was done.
I didn’t have it in me; I wasn’t strong enough to handle that much baggage, that many issues and that much anger. I just didn’t have it in me.
And I hated myself for it.
DRAKE POV
I watched her bolt for the door, unable to move from the spot as I watched the last person that remotely gave a shit about me walk away.
And I couldn’t be bitter or angry because she had every right to.
Just like Nate had every right to hate me for lying to him and going behind his back. Just like my mum had every right to be scared of me after what I had done. They all had a right because I was a fuck up. I knew it, but I didn’t know how to be any different.
I don’t think before I act, don’t think about who I'm hurting or how it’s going to affect me and the others around me. I don’t think.
And that’s why everyone turned their back on me, and I couldn’t blame them.
For the first time since I pointed him out earlier, I turned my head and saw James Roberts through the glass window. I clenched my jaw and swallowed hard as I saw the man in the wheelchair, no life in him at all. The thing that got to me the most about what I did was not even James Roberts, it was his family. He had two daughters who cherished him, and from what I had heard he worshipped the ground they walked on.
He may have been an asshole to my mother, but apparently when it came to his children he was an upstanding citizen who loved them. I remember coming to the hospital just after he had been admitted, maybe a week after. He was still in the coma at this point, and I walked to his room. I don’t know why, I hated him but I just had to see the damage I had done. I made it to the door, but as soon as I looked through the glass and saw the people crowding his bed I chickened out. I saw a little boy by the bed too, and I don’t know why but that bugged me.
I asked one of the nurses on the way out who was visiting him, and she told me it was his daughters and his grandson. The man was a freaking grandfather. He would never get a chance to play with his grandson, or even talk to him because of me.
I walked over to the row of seats by the wall, sitting on the hard metal chair and resting my elbows on my knees. I ran both hands through my hair and sighed, not knowing what to do now.
She was the last person. The last person who genuinely cared about me.
I thought she was as much of a dude as I was and was just after the sex, but she stayed. Earlier in my room when my hand was bleeding out she had the choice to leave and she stayed.
My mum turning my back on me hurt, Nate doing it hurt like a motherfucker.
Mia doing it was like a knife to the fucking heart. She was all I had left.
So I did the thing I haven’t done in over two years. As I sat on the hard metal chairs, my head in my hands, I started crying.
Everything I had bottled up in the last two years was just too much. I sat in the middle of a hospital, feet away from the man who I put in a coma and cried like a fucking baby.
What got to me the most was realising I was the only person who could have stopped her from walking out. I knew I was in the wrong because I had remorse over what I did, but I would not hesitate in doing it again. I knew full well that made me a bad person, an animal and I still could not feel any differently. That’s just the way I was build.
Shitty manufacturing I know…
After I don’t know how long, I realised I had to stop acting like such a bitch. I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes with the back of my hands.
I had nothing left, which also meant I had nothing to lose.
I took my phone out of my pocket and scrolled down my contact list until I found his name, hesitating on the call button for a few seconds before I finally pressed it.
It barely rang twice before he picked up.
“Holy shit, has hell frozen over for you to ring me?” Andrew chuckled down the other end.
I clenched my jaw as the sound of his voice made my skin crawl, but I didn’t care anymore. As I said I had nothing: no mum, no Nate, no job and no Mia. I was feeling a hell of a lot sorry for myself and I did what I normally do.
Self-destruct.
I would always do it, either it be from fighting, drinking, getting high or hooking up with questionable girls.
And what better way to do it than to get in contact with my father.
“Don’t get cocky, even though you are a cock.” I finally replied, wiping the back of my hand on my nose to finally pull myself together “That job offer, is it still going?”
I almost her him choke as he hears my question “Yea-Yeah of course it is.”
The grip on my phone tightens “I’ll take it.”
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A/N: See what i mean about depressing? dont judge Mia too fast, remember the book isnt over and shes only human! comment below and let me know what you think!