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, November 1st-
I wake up feeling a lot warmer than usual.
Last thing I remember, I was waiting for Damien to come home...and I fell asleep. The one thing I told myself I wouldn't do.
I go to sit upright, before realizing that I'm trapped.
What...?
I feel strong arms around me, holding me down and against someone.
My first instinct is to scream, so I do. I scream, but I don't try to pull away, because I know how much pulling away gets me into trouble.
Not that screaming doesn't, but still... It's not the same.
My eyes fill with tears.
I can't move...
"What the fuck...?" Damien says, and he lets me go.
Damien...?
It's him.
He...
I sit upright abruptly, starting to dig my fingernails into my arms.
I look at him and try to speak, but nothing comes out.
I can't breathe... I can't think.
I can't comprehend what's happening.
"Let go of your arm, Josiah." He says in his serious tone.
I press harder and stare in his direction blankly. "I-I..." I begin, unable to continue.
Fuck.
What the fuck is going on? Why did he do that to me?
What happened?!
My mind desperately tries to pull me away from the situation, but I try to at least focus enough to hear him and be aware of where he is. Since we're in a bed together.
"Please." He says, shifting away.
I want to ask him what he was doing to me... Why he was touching me.
I felt so suffocated. I still do.
He says something else, but my brain decides to not process it and to go into shut down mode instead.
Terror controls my entire body.
I can't do anything.
It feels like hours before my mind catches up, and I realize I broke through skin. I pull my hair instead. That one is safer.
"...Why d-did y-you...touch m-me?" I stammer.
When did he get home...?
"You said I could! Last night!"
I don't remember that...
I don't even remember laying down.
"I-I...did?" I ask weakly.
"Yes. You said you missed me and to come cuddle you. "
Yeah... Sounds like me.
"I w-was wrong."
I don't like bed cuddles.
There's certain things strictly associated with sex according to my mind. Being in bed together... I can't do that.
"You didn't miss me? And please let go of your hair."
"No... No b-bed c-cuddles. Bad . D-Don't touch ." I manage.
Don't touch me ...
"What's...wrong w-with you?!" I glare at him.
"I wouldn't have done it if you didn't say it was okay!" He says, getting out of the bed.
I back up, pressing myself against the headboard.
I instantly remember one time when I tried to get away and my dad bashed my head against the headboard of his bed.
It plays in my head and it feels so real, like it just happened.
I stare wide-eyed at Damien. "S-Stay away from m-me!" I snap at him, even though I'm pretty sure he isn't even in arms reach of me at all.
"Okay! God! I'm like ten feet from you. I'm sorry!"
My whole body is shaking like crazy and everything hurts, and my mind just keeps replaying all the awful things that have come from being in a bed with someone.
"Asshole." I mutter, dragging my nails against my scalp and tugging harder on my hair.
Fuck...
Make the memories go away . Please .
"I didn't do anything! Don't call me that!" He snaps.
I wince at his tone.
"N-Not you, dumb-ass." I reply sharply.
I want to go sit in a closet and knock my head against the wall until I pass out...
I want out of here.
I want out of everything. I want an escape.
"Don't call me that either! I'm not a fucking mind reader! You can't say something's fine and then expect me to know it actually isn't fine!"
Nothing's fine.
"Are you m-mad? D-Did I make y-you angry?"
"A little. Yeah."
He sounds pissed.
"Hit me." I say.
"What the fuck?! No!"
"Hurt m-me... I need p-punished now. R-Right now." I can't hurt myself enough. Not here.
He's mad. He should do something.
He's allowed to do anything to me. I don't have the right to scream and tell him to stop.
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the pain. "I...I c-can't tell y-you no . The rules... I'm b-bad."
"I'm not going to hurt you! I love you. Why the hell would I hurt you?!" I hear him begin walking back and forth, pacing.
I bite my hand, trying to shut myself up before I make things worse.
I always make things worse.
I need punished .
"B-Because...I can't s-say no . I'm n-not allowed t-to..."
I can't make him feel bad for things he's allowed to do.
I remember my dad reminding me that my body isn't mine... That everyone should have control over me and I'm bad for whining.
"S-Stop s-screaming and take it..." I remind myself quietly.
"Okay. Fine. But you can say no . You just did. Saying no is fine."
It's not. I should get hit.
"I-I'm not...allowed." I repeat.
"You are with me."
" I'm not . Hit m-me when I-I s-scream." I tell him.
Maybe it'll make me stop.
Maybe I'll shut up.
Stop screaming and take it ...
"No. I won't. I'll never hit you."
"Please. I d-don't wanna have t-to..."
I don't want to have to punish myself.
I hate it. It hurts differently.
"You don't need punished . What will it take for you to see that?"
I drop my hands and rock back and forth slightly. "Y-You s-said you were m-mad." I remind him.
"Just a little bit."
"Then... Then h-hit me just a little bit ." I argue.
I don't like when he lies.
Feeling comfortable when I shouldn't and being given false hope... That's horrifying.
"No. Even if I'm mad, that's no reason to hit you. Give it up. I won't."
I'll never give it up. I know he's just trying to make me stop freaking out.
He doesn't mean it. He'll do something eventually.
"W-Why the hell not?" I question.
"Because you shouldn't hit the people you love."
"That d-doesn't make s-sense..."
How the fuck does he think people get others to listen?
When it's someone like me...
"Dad s-said..." I choke back a sob, "I only r-respond t-to physical p-punishment."
Always .
Because mom said I don't listen, so dad would hit me to teach me. Mom hated that he did it, but she didn't stop him. Because she knew, too.
She knew I was bad.
"I don't care what your dad says."
That's one of his biggest issues. He doesn't listen either...and he doesn't care.
"You should." I tell him.
"He's not my dad. I don't give a flying fuck about him or what he says."
... I'll never get through to him.
"Okay." I sigh.
I rub my head. It hurts.
I want to go back to sleep, but...
Wait...
It's Monday.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"It's 7:38. I have to go get ready."
I'm about to make what might be the worst decision in my life...
"I don't want to go." I say.
"Do you want to skip?" He asks, sounding surprised.
Fuck no. I don't want to.
"I c-can't breathe. No , but... I don't know what to do."
"Let's quit fighting, and just take a day off. We'll be fine. You won't get behind from just one day off."
Especially considering I'm over a year ahead .
"I won't get in trouble?"
He laughs, "You think that school cares about us?"
"No...but once I missed a c-couple days and everyone got r-really mad."
"A couple days is different. If so, I'll handle it. Okay?"
I don't like him handling things .
He isn't very good at it and it'd just be an added stressor.
"I'm going to go sleep in the other room." I tell him.
I'm so tired. Trying to stay up for him was a bad idea.
"Okay. Sounds good. I'll be in here if you need me."
"All right... Is Pierre here still?" I ask him.
I can't get up. I can barely breathe.
"No. He got the day off today and tomorrow since he house sat."
Damn...
"I'm gonna sleep, so...don't come in."
"I won't. I might go to school... Unless you need me to stay?"
"I don't."
I am...suddenly afraid of him.
Just for today, probably. But I am.
"Oh. Okay. I'm going to get ready, then...you can just stay in here. If you need to."
I drag myself out of the bed.
Being here helped me when he was gone, but with him here...knowing what he could do...
I know what he wants.
It's scary.
"...That means I would be here alone." I acknowledge.
"I can stay if you want me to, I just figured that since I wouldn't sleep anyway, I might as well go to school."
"No. I'm just thinking about how I can do whatever I want."
I can panic and torture myself. No one can stop me.
"Yeah. Get some rest. I'll talk to you when I get home." He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
I go into the guest room.
I wonder if I should go around and search for secrets...?
If there's no one here, then...
Do I want to know any more secrets, though?
After learning that his parents fucking kill people, I don't know.
Why the hell does he say my family life is fucked up when his is like this ...?
That's just weird.
My dad isn't that bad. He's never killed anyone. He never would kill anyone.
Same goes for my aunt, and Alexa and Avery...
Why aren't I allowed to go home? I think it's more dangerous here.
Where people kill people.
This isn't right.
I lean against the door after shutting it.
Eventually... I'll go home. Once something bad happens here.
Until then...
I'm not sure what to do.
I don't know if I'll get punished here like I should be. Unless I keep pushing Damien's buttons and figure out what it really is that makes him mad.
What could I do to really piss him off?
I need him to be angry enough to realize that sometimes, people need to be hit. People like me.
What can I use here to really punish myself...?
I go over and sit on the corner.
I should make two lists.
One for everything that will make Damien angry.
Another for all the ways I can hurt myself until then.
I scrape my nails up along my arm.
I wish there was something more painful I could do to myself.
I bring my knees up to my chest and drop my head.
It doesn't matter right now.
I have all day to fuck myself up.
And I hope someone gets really pissed that I'm going to miss a day of school. I hope they beat the shit out of me.
That will be the end of it. I don't have to worry about bad things I've done after I've already been punished.
I sigh deeply.
Until then.
...
I spend all day in that corner, getting hungry around noon, but, of course, not doing anything about it.
I use the excuse that I can't go downstairs or make food on my own.
It sounds fair enough.
It reaches the end of the school day, and I decide to make it look like I've been doing stuff all day.
Then Damien gets home. And I've made up a whole list of all the things I definitely got done.
Hopefully he knows I'm lying and gets mad.
I open the door, going over near the edge of the stairs.
"Damien?" I call down them.
It has to be him. The time lines up. And his parents are never home during the day.
They're too busy killing people.
A moment passes with absolutely no response, so I yell for him again, "Damien!?"
"I'm making spaghetti. I forgot to pack lunch," He calls back from I'm assuming the kitchen, "Just come down here."
I look down at the steps.
Okay...
I go down slowly and carefully.
"How was school...?" I ask him as I go to the kitchen.
Ah. There he is.
"Bad without you there."
"That doesn't make sense. We only have one class together." I point out.
I go over and lean against the counter.
"And lunch. I had to go study in the library. I felt like such a nerd. How was your day?"
"You can't be a nerd. That would be weird," I chuckle, "I just kinda...took a nap, did some studying, ate some food. The usual." I shrug.
Bullshit. I sat there for like eight hours, doing nothing.
I might have fallen asleep a few times, though. That part might be true.
"You ate? Did you come down and make something?"
No.
"Y...Yeah... I raided the fridge." I smile at him.
"Good. I didn't even think about making you something before you left. Do you want some spaghetti? It's my favorite." He informs me.
"No. I ate already, so I don't have to. I'm really sorry about this morning."
"Okay. And I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled. Let's just forget about the whole thing."
"I can't do that... I wanted to let you know that I know it was my fault and that you didn't do anything wrong. I blamed you for a bit, and I've been thinking about it all day." I tell him.
"...I should have known better. But it's fine."
"Don't listen to me when I'm tired. It's all nonsense. I feel like you should have probably made me just leave." I look up at him.
"You looked so comfortable I couldn't bear it... Plus, I missed you so fucking much, I wasn't thinking clearly."
"It's okay. I just... My mind's always worried about things being sexual. I'm trying to work on it and realize that you won't do anything. It's just that I know you want to."
"Yeah. But I won't do any of that until you say it's okay. You don't have to worry about me making things...go that far. I slip up sometimes, but I'm really trying ."
"Okay. I'll try to trust you."
We're all just trying.
And we will forever. Because we'll never figure this out.
"That means a lot to me. Thanks. Are we studying today?"
"We can if you want to. It never really goes well, though." I remark.
"I mean, I have history homework to do. We don't have to do tutoring but maybe we can just study together?"
"What would that be...? Like, us sitting together quietly and just reading?" I question.
"I mean, yeah. But we don't have to do it all night."
"I would hope not. You should sleep." I laugh.
"That would be nice. Don't move. I'm coming past you with the hot pan." He moves to the sink with the pot.
I watch carefully.
"What's our next step in all the kissing things? What am I working toward next?" I ask.
"What do you mean next step ?"
"Like... First was holding hands, then hugging, and kissing... Next is...? I'm trying to work up, but I've pretty much hit a wall. Next would be sex." I guess.
But I don't know about relationships. Or human interaction in general.
"We can maybe just work on you letting me touch you when we kiss? I won't go like...under your clothes. Until you're ready. But like...a hand on your back. Or something." He grabs something from the fridge then goes back to the counter.
"I guess so. It just feels weird because it's so direct and not at all something I'm used to. I've never been touched like that in a good way." I try to reason this out.
"Yeah. We can try it and like I've said before, if it's too much, we can stop."
"Okay. Sometimes, being held feels suffocating, but other times, it's alright. So maybe it'll be a sometimes thing. And sometimes when we kiss it's no and sometimes it'll be yes ."
"Okay. It can be a sometimes thing." He puts his food on his plate and says, "Let's go upstairs. Are you sure you don't want anything?"
I really do...
I pull the black sleeves over my hands.
"I'm sure." I nod a bit.
"Okay." He says leading me upstairs.
He sits on the couch with his food and pulls his school backpack open, taking a book out. He's balancing the spaghetti plate and the book on his knee.
I sit on the other end of the couch, facing him with my knees up to my chest.
"What did you guys do in the classes today? Anything interesting?" I ask, picking at a scratch on my hand.
"It was the most boring day I've ever had. Not one cool thing."
"Have you seen Logan around? I haven't heard him. He hasn't approached me. Is he still at school...?"
"Um. I bumped into him today and yelled at him a bit. Nothing physical. Just a watch where you're going asshole sort of thing. "
"Wow. Don't be mean."
"It's fucking Logan Haas . I hate him."
"I know, but... He's got a rough life. Don't pick on him."
Damien laughs. "Sure, okay ."
"He's just like Ethan and Hunter, and you... He just wants some sort of power at school. Because he can't control anything at home." I analyze.
I was somewhat the same way, too.
I focused on school so much as an escape.
My focus was on academics and theirs...is on being mean. But, still. Practically the same thing.
"Don't group me with them."
"You've been one of them for the past four years. You aren't any different." The only difference is he changed, and I don't think I can feel confident in saying any of them will.
"Right. I'm no different ." He says, sitting his plate on the coffee table.
"Pretty much. You wanted to feel powerful, just like them. Just like everyone else."
"Don't analyze me." He says, "Not that it matters. I'm just the same as Ethan and Hunter still anyway."
"I analyze everyone..." I look over at him, realizing something, "But you're right. You're just the same as they are."
He stands up. "I thought you said...that I was better. I was getting better for you. Do you...not think that anymore?" He sounds hurt.
Interesting...
"You're getting better. They could get better, too. You and all of them have a lot in common. You hurt people." I remind him.
"Not anymore! I don't hurt people anymore."
"Maybe you will."
"I...I won't. I won't go back to that."
"Or maybe you will . If someone makes you mad enough. Because it's just a part of you."
"Do you really think that?" He asks softly.
No. He changed, and he is getting better.
Something really awful would have to happen to make him go back to being a bully.
But he still can get mad and hurt someone .
"Of course. I've analyzed you. I know how you are. You're a bully." I tell him.
"I'm not. I'm not a bully anymore." He denies.
"You're backing out of it too much. In your attempt to not be a bully, you're becoming a pushover. Don't let people talk to you like this. You're a strong guy. You're not weak like you pretend to be."
"Don't you fucking call me that." He growls darkly.
"Which thing?" I ask cautiously.
" Weak ."
"...You're pretending to be weak so you don't seem so scary. But I know you. I know you can be scary. If you would stop being weak and..." I stare at him.
Goddammit... What's wrong with me?
He stares at me for a moment, and then leaves wordlessly, slamming the door behind him.
I flinch.
What the hell?
"Dumb-ass. It's your room." I mutter, laying back against the armrest of the couch.
That was interesting.
I'll add it to the list.
If I could have just kept pushing, then...
I'll get punished soon enough.
End