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.
-Monday, October 25th-
I curl up tight in the corner, messing with my hair endlessly, twirling the ends and repeatedly pushing it out of my face.
I deserve this.
What punishment is better for staying out late than being locked up?
... Why is my biggest concern the fact that I'm missing school?
I also worry about Damien. I hope he's okay.
I hope he isn't too worried about me.
I trace my fingers over the bruises on my collarbone.
I wish people wouldn't hurt other people.
My heart skips what feels like at least six beats when someone bangs on the other side of the door.
Oh, God, please no more...
I yelp and start pulling on my hair.
No more...
The door unlocks after some obnoxious clinking, and it opens.
"No more..." I cry, eyes squeezed shut.
It has to be my dad. Or maybe my aunt. No one else can open the door.
Aside from Alexa, but that would be weird.
I tug on my hair.
"Josiah?!" A man's voice calls, sounding scared out of his mind.
Fuck, no, please...
I can't do this again...
Wait-...
... Damien?!
"Josiah?!" He calls out again.
I open my eyes and try to stare.
I think it's Damien?
I burst into tears immediately. "D-Damien? Is it y-you...really?" I ask shakily as he comes closer.
"Oh my God. What the fuck did he do to you?"
I take in a shuddering breath, squinting, trying to focus on his face, but I just see a blur. As usual.
"Damien..." I mumble, reaching out for him a bit.
"Where are your glasses?" He asks.
"I don't... I-I have no idea. He t-took them..." I tell him.
I manage to curl my fingers into the front of his sweatshirt.
He's very close...!?
"Jesus Christ, Josiah. What the hell are we going to do?"
I just pull on him a bit, but he doesn't react.
He is wrapped up in searching me for bruises, which I'm pretty sure I'm covered head to toe with. Or, at least, it feels like it.
"How badly are you hurt?" He questions.
I release him and curl my hands into fists, pressing them to my chest. "Ow... D-Damien..." I whine.
"Everything's going to be okay." He says soothingly.
That doesn't help anymore.
Not after this.
"It isn't okay. Ow... It f-f...ucking...hurts..." I force out.
"What happened?" He asks me gently.
"I got punished..." I feel my skin burning.
I don't want to tell him. He shouldn't have to know. "I-I can't tell you...you'll get...up-upset."
"Nothing you could say right now would make me love you any less." He says.
I can't tell him...
"The b-boundaries...our rules... H-He broke them. He broke the rules." I say anyway, not wanting to be too explicit.
"What rules?" He urges.
I didn't make myself clear enough...
I shake my head and begin pulling my hair again.
He doesn't want to know. He thinks he wants to know, but I'm sure he doesn't.
It'll just make him upset. It serves no other purpose than to freak him out, and it'll freak me out, too.
"Josiah, what rules?!" He pushes, more aggressive.
... But I don't think he's going to give it up that easily.
I wince.
"The k-kissing r-rules... He... My dad...b-broke them." I tug harder on my hair, squeezing my eyes shut so tight.
My heart pounds in my chest as I think back to it, a sob escaping me.
"Oh my God..." He says quietly.
I'm in so much trouble. With him and with my father, and everyone else...
Now he knows. He knows what I am.
What I've done.
He continues, "We should have left when you said, I... I'm so sorry. I didn't think..."
That wouldn't fix anything, because...it's never been an option. He was right. We can't.
I can't ever leave.
Even if I did, what would be the point? I can't escape it.
I can't escape who I am, or who I'm meant to be. What I'm never meant to escape...
"H-He wouldn't s-stop... He b-broke the rules! H-He was bad...again... I don't like i-it, Damien." I try.
I don't. I hate it.
But he didn't break the rules. They aren't his rules, they're Damien's.
... I like it with Damien.
I know what I am because of that.
"I can't... I don't....Josiah, quit pulling your hair..." Damien says, his voice so quiet.
As soon as I let go of my hair, I start fidgeting with the ends of my sleeves, so glad that I could at least get my clothes back on. I can feel Damien's eyes on me.
"P-Please stop him..."
"Why didn't you call me? Wh...Where did your phone go?" He asks, his voice cracking, as if he's been crying.
"Don't cry! D-Don't be upset! I...I d-didn't want you here...'cause, I knew...I knew y-you would be upset." I start to regain my ability to speak.
Thank God. I hate it when I get all panicky like this. It hurts my brain...
"A-And I didn't want to tell you, and...now y-you're c-crying..." I add.
I knew he would make this a bigger deal than it needs to be.
"I'm not upset with you." He continues crying.
"Why are you s-sad...?" I tilt my head at him.
I thought he would be mad at me. After all, he told me to call him if anything happened, but I didn't. It was such a simple rule and I don't know why I'm too dumb to follow it.
Just like all of my other rules.
"Because I don't...I don't like seeing you in pain. I don't want you to hurt."
"Are you angry? I-I was bad... I-I didn't c-c-call you." I remind him.
Why am I giving him reasons to be mad? Why can't I just let him not be mad at me?!
I'm starting to wonder if I'm breaking the rules with him so he will get angry. Am I testing him? Am I trying to see if he'll hit me, or break the rules about kissing and sex?
What is wrong with me?!
Do I want him to do it?!
"It's not your fault. I'm not mad becau...because it's not your fault."
"Y...You keep s-saying that it isn't...but... It is my fault. It's m-my f-fault that I-I got in trouble with my f-father, it's my fault t-that I c-couldn't s...stop him, it's m-my fault I didn't c-call you..." I ramble.
"No, Josiah. No. It's not your fault. It's his fault. I dont care if you think you were bad, or you know you were bad. No one should do this to anyone. No one should break the rules."
"What m-makes the k-k-kissing rule any more b-bad to break than the c-call Damien rule?" I question, trying to figure out his thought process here.
Why are some rules somehow more important than other rules? I've been raised on; You break a rule, you get punished.
It's all the same.
"And...he's my dad... H-He doesn't have any rule-rules..."
"Well, he should." He says, his crying seeming to slow down slightly.
I want him to stop crying. I reach my hand out to wipe his face, carefully finding his jaw and placing my hand against him. I wipe his cheek with my thumb, feeling the tears.
"Damien, please don't c-cry..." I beg.
He seems horrified and confused. I don't know why. He knows that my father has always hurt me.
Why is this any different? Why does this shock him?
"I'm so sorry." He says softly. It sounds like he's having trouble catching his breath.
"Don't be sorry... You didn't do anything,"
He reaches his hand out to me, and I pull away and scurry back to the wall, keeping my distance.
Yeah... My brain still thinks he'll hurt me. I don't know why. I trust him, but...
I've found lately that most things scare me.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He promises.
I shake my head. "No more." I say again, the same thing I was repeating over and over again earlier.
It used to work when I was little. If I said it enough.
My father would start crying and I would be filled with guilt, but I wouldn't be as scared or in as much pain.
I can always still feel that pain. And blood on my thighs.
My fingers fidget with each other, eyes down-casting to the floor beside me. I couldn't bring myself to keep looking at him, even though I can't see him anyway.
I feel sick to my stomach.
Everything hurts. I want my glasses, and I want to be at Damien's house, cuddling up to him and just talking about whatever comes to mind.
"...Do I have to s...stay here?" I ask.
I know I do.
Whether he says I do or not.
I'll always come back to this.
"No," He says firmly, "You're going to stay with me. My parents can deal with it until we find you somewhere else to go."
"What if they f-find out about us...? D-Don't they have some s-sort of rule, or s-something, about it? Will they hurt y-you?" I question, getting that urge to pull at my hair again, "If they'll h-hurt you, I-I don't want to risk it."
"No. They don't have as bad of punishments as what you're thinking. It wouldn't matter, even if they did. You can stay in a different room. It will be okay. I'll handle it. You are not staying here."
"What about s-school? If I-I go...my father would get me, and t-take me home afterwards."
Of course that's where my mind goes. School. Because I can be convinced to run away from home and never come back, but I can't possibly miss school.
"Fuck school. I'll just not leave your side. I'll protect you." He chokes out.
It almost sounds better for me to just stay here. Not for me, but for him.
"What if I-I really, really promise that I w-will leave the house and c-call you, if anything happens?" I suggest.
"Please just come with me..." I hear him begin to cry again, "Please."
No...
"Okay...but I d-don't know where m-my glasses are." I say, shifting and looking around, mainly to add to the effect...
My eyes stop on the bedroom door. "They're p-probably in there. That's where w-we were earlier..." I guess.
He hesitates, then says, "I'll go find them."
I don't want to, but I let him leave. I watch him with the best of my ability as he goes into the bedroom to look.
A moment later, I feel my heart start to race for no apparent reason. I start panicking.
Why?
"Damien!?" I call for him.
"I found them!" He says, coming out of the room and sitting them on my face with shaky hands.
"Are you o...okay? You s-seem stressed." I tell him.
Well... Of course he is.
But still.
I don't get why all of this is a big deal to him.
It's not his life.
It doesn't hurt him.
He looks at the bruises on my neck, which go down and disappear under my sweater collar.
"Let's grab your stuff and go."
"My sweaters?" I ask hopefully, pointing to the chest that is beside the couch.
He nods. "Of course."
I bring my hands to my head, rubbing my temples. My head aches like hell.
Right now, I want out of here. But I know that, tomorrow, I'll be upset because I'm not at home.
Why do I miss this place when I'm not here?
"...Did you bring the car?" I ask hopefully.
"No, sorry..."
I pout up at him.
Fuck...
I hate that.
"I came right from school, I didn't have time to..." He stops.
"...and you're sure I can't s-stay here?" I drag myself off the floor, standing.
Have I mentioned that everything hurts?
"I don't think you should." He says, grabbing my school backpack and stuffing my sweaters into it.
Fine... I guess I'll ride the motorcycle.
But this is the last time...
End