Warnings ⚠: Child Abuse, Rape, Violence, Religion, Drug Use, Alcohol Use, Use of Slurs, Homophobia, Bullying, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Actions, Gun Use
Damien's P.O.V.
-Monday, November 1st-
I slam the door behind me, not giving him the satisfaction of hitting him.
I mean, I know that he's had a fucked up childhood, and life until now, and we're not even perfect...
But...
I could never hit him.
He makes me so fucking mad that sometimes I really want to yell at him...
And I do.
But I couldn't ever hit him.
That's fucked up.
But the way he's been ever since I got home... I don't know what is wrong with him, or what's different. Or what he's trying to accomplish...?
I don't know. I'm too sober to think about this right now.
I go downstairs and then I hear Josiah leave my room.
Good.
My parents wouldn't give a shit about me drinking, even if they were here, but it still feels like something I should hide.
I go to the liquor cabinet, and true to his word, Pierre put a lock on it.
I go to the junk drawer in the kitchen and dig around a bit until I find a paperclip.
This should be fine.
If all else fails, I have my I.D.
I could just go get some right now...
Even if I'm pissed at Josiah, I still shouldn't leave him home alone.
I quickly pick the lock, and then take a few bottles, shuffling around the remaining few so it looks less empty...
I'm sure he knows what's in there, but at first glance, it looks normal.
I then shut the lock again, taking the bottles upstairs.
I put two of them in my closet for later, and take the other two out onto the roof.
It's become my quiet place.
My thinking place.
My jump off this fucking building right now ...place.
I start drinking and start panicking, and before I know it, my legs are dangling off the edge.
He called me weak .
And if mom and him keep saying it... It must be true.
I can't hurt people anymore.
It... hurts .
For lack of a better phrase.
I get about half way through the bottle, when a familiar car pulls into the driveway.
Immediately after parking, Pierre jumps out of the car and runs to the ground below.
"Damien! Get back inside right now."
"You're not my fucking dad, old man." I yell back, almost dropping the bottle onto the ground.
Imagine if it hit him...
Ha. That would be funny.
" Damien ! I'm coming up there! you could get hurt!" He looks conflicted to move.
"It's only one story up! Quit whining. At the most, I break my legs. Besides, the door's locked."
"I have keys to almost all of the doors." He points out.
Shit.
"Well, don't come in. It's locked for a reason. To keep you out!"
"You're acting like a child."
"I am a fucking child! You guys are all like grow up, Damien , start killing people, Damien , hit me, Damien ! But no! I just want to be myself for three fucking seconds without all of you trying to tell me what to do and who I'm supposed to be! If you really cared, you wouldn't be trying to control me! You're just as bad as all of them, Pierre!"
Tears come to my eyes and I stand up, almost falling over the side.
I start laughing.
"That would be too easy." I mutter.
"Don't move! I'm coming up right now. Stay there!"
He sounds terrified.
Good .
A minute or two passes and I begin pacing the side of the roof, not caring if I fall or not.
It doesn't matter anyway.
Clearly, Josiah doesn't want me around.
Because I'm weak . I let people walk all over me. But then, I'm mean to Logan, and I'm a bully.
I can't be weak and a bully.
He's the dumb-ass here.
Not me.
Well...
I'm the dumb-ass, too.
Pierre and Josiah look at me from inside the window.
"Damien, come inside now!" Pierre says.
I flip them off.
"Josiah, I flipped you off. 'Cause you're blind... Wait. Not cause you're blind, because I'm mad at you. I told you because you're blind."
"Whatever, dumb-ass. Get inside. What the hell are you doing?" He asks.
I point at him accusingly. "No. You know what? What I said means something, okay?! Well. What I thought means something. You can't go around calling me weak and a doormat and then all the sudden be all worried about fucking Logan Haas. The guy who bullied you your whole goddamn life! As if you should give a shit about him! I just called him a pussy! That's it! What's so wrong with that, huh!? I'm not wrong ! And then you sit there and call me a bully. You're the bully . I changed for you! And you don't like it? Well, fuck you, Walker !"
Pierre just blinks at me for a moment, assumingly taking all this in, he then looks at Josiah.
"What the fuck is he talking about?" He asks him.
"Damien, shut up. I don't even know what you're talking about anymore. I think I stopped listening half way in because it's bullshit ."
"I'm talking about you !" This is so frustrating, "You don't ever fucking listen! Because you're selfish !"
"Whatever. You don't even fucking do anything about it anyway, so why should I care?"
I flip him off again, not bothering to tell him I did it.
"He flipped you off again," Pierre fills him in, "Listen, clearly you guys are having issues, but..."
I sway and almost fall again, and Pierre looks terrified. "Damien Michael Cohen! Get you ass inside right now, or I'm coming out there."
I sigh, heading over to the window then saying, "Let me in, then."
Pierre pulls me inside and, to my surprise, pulls me into a hug.
"What the fuck?" I say.
"Shut your mouth and listen to me. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm only trying to look out for you. I'm sorry if it seemed any different. But please, for the love of God, if you're going to continue to drink, do it inside."
He lets me go.
"Or don't drink at all. It's illegal." Josiah says.
"Don't talk to me right now." I growl.
"Damien!" Pierre snaps, "Maybe you should go lay down. Sober up a bit."
I glare at Pierre instead.
He takes my almost empty bottle from me.
"What are you even doing here?" I ask.
"It doesn't matter, I'm just glad I came. Go lay down. I'm serious." He says.
I could easily overpower him...
I won't ...
But I could .
"Fine." I say, going and sitting on the bed.
They both just watch me.
Pierre looks over at Josiah. "You guys be nice, okay? I'm going to go. Try to work this out like men, okay? Not children."
He leaves and I lay back on the bed.
Josiah stares at me.
"I have nothing else to say to you." I tell him.
My head swims and I watch as my ceiling fan goes from one...to four...and back to one again.
"You had a lot to say a minute ago. What the fuck was up with the whole Logan thing? I just asked you to be civil with him."
"Why do you care so much about fucking Logan Haas? If you like him so much, why don't you marry him ?!"
" What ? I just think you shouldn't be an ass to someone like that."
"Someone who's repeatedly made my life, and your life Hell? Oh, okay . I called you a bully and an asshole? And all you care about is that?"
"You are only egging him on. Talking to me is different than with him. Be civil with him ."
"No. I'm not going to approach him, but I'm not going to be civil . If he starts shit, I'm ending it."
And him .
Little bitch .
I hate Logan Haas.
"No. Don't be an asshole. Don't fight people."
"Right. So, if I fight people I'm an asshole , but if I don't fight you, I'm weak ? And a pushover ? What do you want from me?!"
"I'm different . He doesn't... belong to you ...?"
"Neither do you. You're your own person."
"No. That's where you're wrong. That's your problem. You misunderstand everything ."
"Whatever. I'm done."
I rip my shirt off and grab the side of the blanket, rolling into a burrito. "Night, then."
"Are you serious? Why do you run away from everything with me?"
"Because it's hard! I don't want to fight and you fight anyway, and I try to not fight, and you keep fighting ."
I just want to be a burrito.
Everything is easy as a burrito...
You're made.
Then eaten.
Then you no longer exist.
"Only because you don't do anything."
"I've done so much for you! Do you realise what I'm risking for you? And what I've lost?! All for you ! So, don't you dare tell me I'm not doing anything!"
"Maybe stop losing things and risking things for me ?! And you know what I meant! I don't care what you do for me, the point is you don't do anything to me. And it's weird."
"So what? Give it up, I'm not going to." I sigh, burrowing my face into the pillow.
I just want to sleep...
I've had enough alcohol to knock me out.
"You will. You say you won't, but you will. Just like everyone else."
"Nope. Please leave."
" No ."
I sigh, "Fine then. Have fun standing there. I'm sleeping."
I shut my eyes.
"Right. Sleeping , again . Of course. Keep running away from everything and hiding."
"Can do."
What an asshole.
Maybe if I don't make a big deal out of it, he'll stop.
I just want it to stop...
"How pissed off are you? Come on. Seriously. Be honest with me."
"Three."
" Three ...? What?"
"You heard me ."
Just. Want. To. Sleep!
" Three out of...? Five?"
"One hundred."
"Bullshit. Don't be like this. You were yelling just a few minutes ago."
"No. You're bullshit. This is bullshit. Just go the fuck away."
"Are you sure ?"
"Well, don't leave the house. But go away."
I still want him here... Once we get through whatever this is, it can go back to how it was.
"No, I think I'll leave the house."
I get up and push the couch in front of the door, before laying back down.
There .
"I thought you wanted me to go away ." He glares at me.
"Nah. Just leave me alone."
"Why should I?"
"Because I don't want to fight anymore, Josiah. Why does it matter? What's changed since my trip?"
"I realized what it's like without you. It's horrifying , okay?"
"Then why do you keep pushing me away ?"
"I don't deserve you being nice to me. You know this. Stop making me say it and just do something so I don't have to think about it anymore."
"I can't. I don't care if it...makes me weak in your eyes, or mean , or whatever . I can't. And you said I need to talk to someone? Whatever ."
If we can't fix this...
Josiah's all I've been sticking around for.
"Your mind is so messed up, I swear. Why don't you just listen to me?"
"Because you're the messed up one!" I snap, harsher than I intended.
Shit. "I didn't mean that..." I start nervously.
"Move the couch back. Let me leave."
"You'll go back to your dad."
"No. I'll go for a walk and cool off and we won't be mean anymore."
"I...wish I could trust you. You want rules ? Stay here ."
"I won't. What's your consequence?"
"Nothing. I just won't let you."
"In what ways are you planning to stop me?"
"Can you move the couch?"
"No. But I can call Pierre, and also, you have a window."
I sit up and stare at him. "Then do it. I'm done with your shit. You're not getting what you want from me? I'm not enough ? Then go ."
Please don't...
"I... I'm not going to. Fine. You're just being an ass."
"Thank you so much." I say quietly.
If I could just figure out what's wrong....
" I'm sorry . Does that make things better?"
"It's a start." I lay back down. "There's an extra blanket on the couch."
"Okay. If this is your version of a punishment , then okay ."
Whatever it takes to get him to stay.
If he's here, I know he's safe.
"Night, Josiah...even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes, I love you. So much ."
"Alright."
...
-Tuesday, November 2nd-
The school day goes painfully slow, and all I can think about is how quiet Josiah was the whole ride there.
When I get to lunch, I ask him, "Can I sit with you?" As I set his lunch in front of him.
"Yeah. Of course."
I sit down. " Dog of the Day !" I announce, pulling my phone from my pocket.
"Okay. What is it?"
I pull up a picture on my phone. "Today, It's the dog I saw in Puerto Rico! A Bermese Mountain Dog! They're fluffy, and the one I met was named coffee and was very nice." I give him the phone
"Very nice. Let's get one."
"We can't decide until we've seen every dog." I say, opening his lunch and giving him his sandwich.
I doubt it will work again...
"Or we could just get a random puppy and hope for the best."
"I like that. Let fate pick for us."
He starts eating... Thank God.
"And if it's not a big dog...we return it and trade it in for a new one." He says.
"Um, no. We would just get a new one. And have two."
"I don't think you could handle two dogs. And a cat. And me, and whatever else."
"Um, why not? What do you mean, whatever else ?"
"We're also going to have fish. And I want a reptile. A little dinosaur."
"...What kind of little dinosaur?"
At this rate, we'll have a zoo.
"A lizard. Maybe we should get a snake, too. That would be cool."
"No. No snakes. Not happening. I would rather die."
"Don't say that. And don't worry, I would train it to bite your face off. You would die."
"No snakes," I repeat, "They're creepy...but if death is an option... It's a fair trade."
"You're creepy. Shut up."
"Yep. I'm very creepy. Ten out of ten creep-ness ." I confirm.
"Dumb-ass."
It really bothers me when he says that... But we just got done fighting.
I pause a little longer than normal, before saying, "Yup. That's me."
"Yeah, no kidding. Snakes aren't creepy. They're cool, and I want six."
"No and no. Not unless they all bite my face."
"They will. They'll be trained to when you're being an ass. And a spider, too. And an ant farm. All animals will be trained to bite you."
Right...
"We won't have space for an entire zoo."
"Then I'll get rid of you and make space for more animals."
"Genius." I yawn.
I'm glad things are getting back to normal...
He said he would train his snakes to eat me, but...
I feel like we can work with this.
...
As I walk Josiah out to the car at the end of the day, I ask him, "Can we hold hands?"
I don't know if he's still upset.
Or if he's willing to do that.
I just need him.
I've missed him ever since I left this weekend, and because of everything that's happened, the feeling hasn't gone away.
"I don't care. Do whatever you want." He replies.
"Okay, what do you want?" I ask him, "Be honest."
"I do not care."
"Okay, then." I take his hand and hold it as we walk silently to the car.
I wonder what he's thinking about...
When we get in the car, I make myself put my seatbelt on.
I don't know if it would bother him right now, but I'm not risking anything.
As soon as I start the car, my phone rings.
I pull it from my pocket and see that it's Mom.
I answer immediately.
Why would she be calling? She's probably still at work...
If they want me to come in earlier than 6:00 tonight, I'm going to be pissed.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Damien? Thank God. There's been an accident and your father's in the hospital."
"What?! How? What happened?!"
An accident ...?
"The doctor's on his way over. I'll tell you once you're here. Just get over here."
She tells me the name of the hospital and then hangs up quickly.
I just stare at the phone in my hands, trying desperatly to comprehend what the fuck just happened.
"Is something wrong...?" Josiah asks.
"Um, yeah. My dad's in the hospital, I guess."
I'm assuming it's serious, or else she wouldn't want me to come over.
It has to be serious, for them to be in a hospital in the first place.
I put the address in my phone and pull up my GPS, not quite sure where the hospital is.
I think it's by the ice cream place?
"Did someone try to kill him?"
"I don't know. Mom didn't say. She just said to come as quickly as possible."
"Someone probably tried to kill him."
"Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't. Not to me. He isn't my dad, after all."
"Right. Can we just play nice until we get home tonight? We can't fight in front of my mom. She doesn't know we're dating in the first place, and I don't want to stress her out or anything."
I doubt she even remembers Josiah, she met him like one time and it was very briefly.
"We can't ...? You think so?"
"Please." I say softly, already getting lost in my head.
I hope he's okay...
What if it's like, really bad?
Like really, really bad?
No. I can't afford to think like that.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white.
Don't panic...
Once we park in the hospital parking lot, I quickly grab Josiah's hand and pull him behind me.
We walk inside and I find out where he is from the nice old lady behind the front desk.
ICU.
He's in the ICU...
I walk a little faster, and Josiah has to run a bit to keep up.
I forget. Short legs.
"Sorry." I say as we get in the elevator and I hit the third floor button, repeating the directions the lady gave me in my head a few times.
"Why didn't you, like... Drop me off at home, or something?"
Truthfully, I didn't want to be alone.
"No time." I lie.
"Why? Is he dying right now?"
"He better fucking not be." I let go of his hand.
"Not like it would matter. He's never home anyway, right?"
I turn to look at him. "What the hell is wrong with you? In what world is that okay to say to someone?"
I can't do this right now.
What if he is dying..?
Oh god.
"Your dad kills people, Damien. Same thing that I said to Alexa and Avery; Your dad is dying? Good ."
"Fuck you." I say to him and mean it .
The doors open and I leave, not bothering to wait for him to follow.
He speeds up as I look for the rooms, because I'm not slowing down for him if he's going to be an ass.
He catches up and follows behind me so closely that he's practically on top of me.
As long as he doesn't grab my hand while my mom's looking or anything, we will be fine.
"If you're going to be petty, then you can at least not walk away from me. I can't fucking see you, dumb-ass."
"Right, I'm the one being petty, you're the one saying you want him to be fucking dead ."
I slow down for him anyway.
"It's not petty to wish bad things on criminals who kill people."
"It is if it's my dad. Can't you be nice for like five fucking seconds? Is that too much to ask?"
"Why? What would be the point?"
I stop abruptly and he runs into me.
I turn and look down at him.
"Because, you're supposed to care because I care. that how it fucking works, okay? I don't care if you care about him, but if you care about me at all anymore, the least you can do is shut up until I take you home."
I search his face.
He looks mad.
He has no fucking right...!
" Sorry . I wish I could but I have no self control, and, frankly, I don't care if any of this bothers you, or anyone."
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. "Are we really going to do this right here?"
In the middle of the hallway, in an ICU, the last place people should be fighting.
"That depends. Does it make things worse? Are you mad?"
"Why do you keep insisting on making me mad?"
He didn't used to be like this..
Something is different, and apparently we have to figure this out here and now.
"No. You're just an asshole. You can yell at me here. Go for it."
What's wrong with him?
"Why are you doing this?" I glare at him.
I can't figure him out...
There has to be a reason.
"You act like I'm different all the sudden, but I'm not. You chose this."
He is different.
"I chose this ?" I ask him, crossing my arms.
"Yes. I've been calling you dumb-ass since the moment we met. What the hell else did you expect?"
"This isn't about calling me names. It's about you trying to make me mad, and..."
Oh .
"You're trying to make me mad so I hurt you, aren't you?" I ask him quietly, not wanting people to overhear.
There's a particularly interested old lady on a bench not far from us, and she's very bad at eavesdropping.
She's practically staring at this point.
Old hag .
She needs to mind her own business...
I'm about to tell her that, when Josiah responds.
"Hit me, or grab me, or yell, or something . C'mon... I know I break you."
" No . I have to go see my dad."
"Okay. But I'm not stopping."
"You have to when we get there. Or I will leave you here."
" Bye ."
I start to leave and I spot my mom's dark red hair from down on the other end of the hall.
Despite saying bye , he follows me.
Dumb-ass.
Once we get closer, to my suprise, she pulls me into a huge, tight hug.
"What's going on?" I ask her quietly, as she hugs me.
"What do you think happened? We live a very dangerous life, Damien, and your dad's gotten too comfortable." She pulls away, and to my surprise, there are tears in her eyes, despite her harsh criticism. I have not once seen my mother cry.
Josiah stays back, and I'm glad. I don't have an excuse for bringing him yet.
"Hey, he's going to pull out of it." I try to assure her, despite not knowing what's going on.
He has to, I don't know what we would do if...
I don't want to think about it.
She shakes her head, "He can't pull his way out of this one. He's still on life support and the doctors said that he's not going to make it past 5:00."
I look at the clock. It's 3:36.
"No. He has to." I say, unable to believe it.
She shakes her head again. "He can't outrun his sins forever. He's pulled through some serious shit, but he's a bad person."
"He's not a bad person!" I snap at her. "What is wrong with you people? If you don't care about him, why are you even here?" I ask her coldly.
"How dare you say something like that to me?! Do you realize where we are?! He's dying, Damien! And I'm going to go find the chapel here and pray. Maybe if I pray enough, his afterlife won't be as bad as it should be."
She walks away.
She's just going to leave...?
Leave me here alone with this?!
With my dying father...
No.
He can't die.
"It's not possible." I say quietly, as she walks away.
I sit down in the chair along the hallway, not sure if I'm allowed to go in the room or not.
Not that I could if I wanted to.
Josiah hesitantly sits down beside me.
"...Does your mom realize she isn't any different than him...? She seemed upset over his lifestyle."
"No, I don't think she does. She thinks her God's going to save her. At least Dad is a criminal and knows it. He always keeps work and home separate. I actually feel like I'm his son, but with mom, it's like I'm just a means to an end ."
"Doesn't he... train you , or something? On Tuesdays and Thursdays?"
"Yeah, but sometimes at the end of it, we get ice cream or we just sit and talk... He cares about me. That's the difference. I wish it was her. Not him." I say bitterly, feeling tears sting my eyes.
"He doesn't care about you when he's set your life up like this. He doesn't care about anything."
"Don't." I let out a shaky breath, "Please don't."
"I'm not doing anything. I just don't like false hope and bullshit, which is what all of this is."
"Well, I do. He does care about me. You don't know him like I do, Josiah. He's just carrying on family tradition, doing what his dad did for him, and his dad's dad did for him, and so on."
He doesn't know better...
"I guess none of them cared about each other, then. Or someone would have stopped this tradition . I guess...the question is if you're going to continue it on, or not. Since your dad is dying."
"I don't want to think about that right now..." I put my head in my hands and feel tears threatening to fall at a moment's notice.
"Which thing?"
"Any of it. Any of this ." I gesture to the bright white hallway around us.
"Now is a good time to decide if you're going to step up, though. And if you'll pass it on to your son one day...when you have kids, with whoever the fuck you'll have kids with."
"I don't want kids. I'll just fuck them up. All I know is I don't want to have anything to do with this life. Now, or ever. And if I do have kids, I'm going to treat them like human beings with their own opinions and lives. And I'll love them unconditionally ."
"Then I guess this is the end of the stocks business, sort of. And that's weird... The kid thing. How you would handle it. That's so unnatural."
" Unnatural ? What do you mean? You think you would treat your kids like your dad's treated you?" I look over at him.
He has his knees pulled up to his chest and is curled into the seat, as if he wishes he was anywhere else.
"I wouldn't know what else to do. And I hate the whole unconditional thing. That's not how people work in general, much less something that just comes with being someone's kid or parent."
"It's how I love you. Why couldn't I love my, or maybe someday, our kids like that."
"Because you don't. It's unnatural. And are you really suggesting we could have kids after what I just said?"
"I mean, I love you. I don't mean right now, I mean when we're far away from here. Is that not still the plan?"
"Whatever you want the plan to be is the plan. But we can't have kids, or pets, or anything. I don't know how to take care of anything. I would just kill it ."
"What do you want?" I ask him again. "You wouldn't kill it, we would figure it out, together."
"Don't ask me that. Right now, I just want to be with my family so things can be normal."
" Right ."
Why am I still trying with him anymore?
We sit in silence until a doctor comes out of the room I presume is my father's. He has a somber look on his face.
No .
He has to have good news.
My dad can't die.
He's holding this family together.
"Are you here for Robert Cohen?"
I nod my head.
"If you would like to go say goodbye, now would be the time. It won't be much longer now. He's unconscious, but some people believe you can hear your loved ones no matter what."
I stand up and tell Josiah. "I'll be right back."
The doctor leaves and I see my dad in the bed and I stop in the doorway.
He looks like a completely different person from the man I know..
He looks so weak and pale, and is hooked up to billions of different wires and tubes and machines.
He looks so...powerless.
I guess we all die someday, no matter how much money, or power we have.
I can't do this.
My chest tightens and it gets hard to breathe.
He can't be dying. It's impossible .
I don't know a life without him, and I do not want to find out what that entails.
I stay in the doorway, not wanting to go in.
As soon as I go in, it's real.
I look back out at Josiah.
He's staring at me, a blank expression on his face.
I turn back and take a deep breath, before closing the door behind me with shaky hands.
I stare at Dad again.
This can't be real.
This can't be happening.
Any and all of the emotions I was feeling disappear.
I'm just...empty now. I have no words.
There is nothing I can say to him because I can't let him go.
I can't .
I have to go talk to him.
Even if it's fucking stupid.
Even if this whole thing is fucking stupid .
I grab a chair from the corner of the room and pull it to his bedside.
I can't...
"Just..." I start and feel my chest constricting again, "Please." I say, my emotions just gone. I can't think of what to say. "...Just live." I beg softly. I stay sitting for a while. All I keep thinking is that Mom should be here...
She needs to say goodbye.
I leave the room and go over to Josiah.
"We need to go find my mom."
"Find her...? You don't know where she is?"
My head starts throbbing.
"Um." I put a hand on the side of my head "I need my mom." I say softly.
"I can't do this."
God... It hurts.
"I thought you didn't like her."
"I don't. But I need her." I mumble rubbing the sides of my head.
"That doesn't make sense. You literally just told me a while ago that you wish she was dying."
"I don't know what to do!" I snap, looking at him.
"Please come with me."
"Fine. I'm sorry... She can't fix anything, you know."
"I know. But she should be here."
He gets up and follows me. I make my way to the front desk again and the lady tells me where the chapel is. We go in silence and I'm really glad we do. If he yelled or got upset right now, I would cry.
I find the room and push the door open.
My mom's keeled at the altar in front of a simple wooden cross. The room is small, with two small bench seats on either side of this small brown altar.
It's a place for the desperate. They wouldn't hold services here.
It's practically a broom closet .
This is the place you go when there's nowhere else to go.
"Stay here." I tell him quietly. Mom didn't even bother to look at us as we came in.
"Okay." He sighs.
I leave him and walk up to mom. I put a hand on her shoulder.
"Mom." She looks up at me, prayer beads woven between her fingers, her mascara running down her face with her tears. "Damien...?"
I kneel down beside her. I've never seen her anything other than passive or mad.
I don't know how I should feel.
She shoves the prayer beads in my hands. "Pray for him. Pray for his soul ." She pulls another set of beads from her purse beside her.
I stare at the faded red and black beads with a cross pendant hanging off the end.
As if praying will do anything .
"Mom. He's dying. The doctor said you should come say goodbye."
"I've made my peace with this. It's in God's hands now."
"How the fuck can you say that?!"
I'm so tired of this.
She whips her head around. "Watch your language! This is a sacred place!"
"This isn't God's plan. It's an accident. You need to see him before it's too late."
"There are no accidents with God." She says, "You're telling me God's going to take your husband and you're just accepting that ?! Sounds like a shit God to me."
She looks at me furiously and before I can stop her, she slaps me. I recoil and stand, throwing her beads on the floor beside her.
"Good luck with this. It won't change anything." I go to leave.
Josiah follows behind me, and as soon as we're out of there, I stop and lean against the nearest wall heavily. I put a hand on my cheek where she slapped me.
Fuck her.
If she wants to put God before her family one last time then so be it.
Some fucking family ...
"Was she mean?" Josiah asks softly.
"I..."
I can't .
I let out a sob, quickly moving my hand from my cheek to my mouth, trying to calm down. I give up and slide into a sitting position, pulling my knees to my chest and still trying to hold back the crying with a hand over my mouth.
"I told you..." He mumbles.
"I know." I manage to say between the tears.
"Are you okay? What did she say?"
"She's....putting her God over her family again . And I told her that her God was a pretty shit god if he let her do that. So she hit me. And I left." My whole body is shaking.
I look up at Josiah through the tears.
"Why didn't you tune her out?"
"I can't."
"You...can't? Just ignore her."
"I had to try."
I run my hands through my hair and pull a bit.
Maybe he has something good going for him with that.
Nah.
It just hurts.
... Oh.
"You should leave her."
"I can't. Not now. Now if I left, she would be alone."
I clear my throat.
"If he dies.
If .
He's not dead yet.
Josiah sighs and sits on the floor beside me, leaving plenty of space between us.
"She wouldn't be alone. She has her God." He mocks.
"She's still my mom, Josiah."
I pull at the rip in my jeans, looking at the floor, trying to not cry again.
"You value family an awful lot for someone who pulled me away from mine. You shouldn't. They're bad for you, like Ethan and Hunter have always been. I was right about them, and I'm right about your parents."
"Please don't do this right now, Josiah!"
I slam my head back into the wall and wince slightly.
"Do you not want advice?!"
"No. I just want to not feel so fucking alone." I say, shutting my eyes, "If he dies... That's it."
"Okay. Alright, fine. You believe in Hell, right?"
"Yeah. And he's going there. And it terrifies me. He might be bad. And he might deserve it. But I don't want him to. I don't want him to deserve it."
"Well, the thing is, if Hell exists, then I'm pretty sure it's where we're all going. Every human. So no one should worry about it. Everyone deserves it."
"Oh," I sigh, "We should go back. He shouldn't have to be like...alone."
"He's not conscious."
"It's still sad. I would want someone there if I was him."
I don't move.
I don't know if I can.
"...And I guess, if you were him, I would probably want to be there. So, I'm shutting up now. Let's go."
"I...can't."
I curl my legs closer to me and rest my chin on my knees.
I shouldn't have to do this.
It's too soon.
"You have to. I'm here with you, and we're okay."
"It's not okay." I take in a quick breath, "Oh god, it's so not okay. I can't do this alone. I can't..."
I start shaking again and it gets hard to breathe.
"I'm sorry."
... Sorry ?
"Don't leave me." I say, the fear so fucking evident in my voice that I'm disgusted at myself.
"I can't. I never would. I-I'm so sorry for being mean."
I look over at him.
"I'm sorry, too." I manage.
I rest my head against the wall again and try to calm down.
"Once I quit panicking we can go back and I'll call Pierre to come get you."
He shouldn't have to be here
"I don't wanna leave you..."
"You shouldn't have to be here."
"I want to be here for you, though." He murmurs.
"I..."
I start crying again.
"I can't do this Josiah. I can't be the adult here. What if...oh, god. What if they make me like...pull the plug or something...? Shit. I..." I can't breathe again and I have to stop and hang my head, trying to catch my breath.
"There wouldn't be a reason to. He's dying anyway, life support really isn't... I mean. Don't worry about any of that right now. Go be with him now and tell him whatever you need to tell him."
"Okay..."
I force myself up and he follows behind me.
I walk slowly and take his hand, not caring if people see anymore.
By the time we get back to his room, my hands shaking so much, I end up having to let go.
"Sorry." I mutter about the hands.
"What? Sorry for what?"
"Shaking. And being a mess. All the fucking time." I say, looking at the floor again.
"You're not the mess between us. Don't try to take my title." He forces a soft laugh.
"Right. Your title." I try to smile but it doesn't work, "Can I... Nevermind."
"Don't say nevermind to me. I'll spend the rest of the month trying to figure out what you were going to say."
"I was going to ask for a hug, but I realized you would say no , so I stopped."
"You can do whatever you want, Damien. Seriously. Don't ask me."
"I want you to want it, too." I say quietly. I take both his hands in mine and hope mine stop shaking.
"I just want you . Nothing else matters."
"Okay." I whisper and pull him into a gentle hug.
I bury my face in his shoulder and his arms go around me tightly.
The tears really haven't stopped since we left my mom. And to be honest, I don't know if they will.
He tenses up a lot, but doesn't move away. "I love you." He says.
"I love you, too."
He hates this...
I quickly let him go.
"I should call Pierre. Let him know what's going on." I sigh.
"Y-Yeah... Is Pierre close to your dad?"
"No, but he's been with our family since I've been five. I don't know why my mom didn't call him, too."
"Maybe she didn't think of it." He shrugs.
"She's never liked him." I say.
I call him and quickly explain everything I know.
He says he'll be here in twenty minutes.
Once I hang up, I sit back down beside Josiah and stare at the door.
"I don't know if I can go back in." I admit.
"I can come with you..." He offers.
"Really?" I shake my head, "No. I shouldn't do that to you...this is something I should handle on my own."
Don't be weak.
I force myself to get up but I just stop and stare at the door.
Don't be weak .
My chest constricts as I think about it again.
Don't. Be. Weak .
"It wouldn't do anything to me. I don't care. I just want to help you. Do you think you'll be okay?"
"I don't think I'll be okay no matter what." I say quietly.
"Whatever makes you more okay, then."
"Come with me."
Weak .
He gets up and follows me into the room.
There's a couch near the bed.
He sits there, and I wonder if I have to, like, sit beside dad, or...?
I just stand and stare at him.
At my father .
I don't even know what happened...
"I'm going to try not to say anything unless you want me to. Okay? If I'm bad, tell me. I'm here for you."
I sit down beside Josiah. "Talk about something."
Anything that isn't this ...
Anything that isn't death ...
Anything .
"Don't let me pick. My mind isn't working right. I'll just talk about my parents, or how if Hell exists, it's inevitable for everyone."
"Talk about dogs, or pizza. Or school." I suggest.
"I want dogs, pizza, and school right now. A bunch of big dogs, and a yummy pizza, and just reading and learning. With cuddling the big dogs. And you. We hug and the dogs just lay on us..." He trails off.
"I want all of that, too." I say quietly.
"Then my snake...who's name is Pancake...bites you. And his name is Pancake for irony. Because he's shaped like a tube and pancakes are very flat."
"Then I'm dead. I've always wanted to die by a pancake."
I try to focus on the conversation.
Focus on him.
"If anything killed you, it would be pancakes." He smiles.
"Yeah." I mutter, dragging my eye from the floor back to my dad.
I can't quit staring at him.
"This doesn't seem real." I say.
"Maybe it's not."
"What?"
I look over at him.
"Everything might be fake. That's what my brain says sometimes. Sometimes I'm not real, and sometimes no one else is. Maybe nothing is real."
"...I hope so."
I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, trying not to cry again.
The door opens slowly and I hope it's my mom.
Maybe she's changed her mind...
Maybe she's...
The figure walks in.
It's Pierre.
I feel tears fall again.
She's not coming.
Pierre looks over at my dad for a moment before I stand and say, "The doctors said he won't make it past five."
He looks me in the eyes and asks, "Are you doing okay? Where's your mother?"
"She's praying." I spit out, not able to keep the anger from my voice.
He pulls me into a tight hug. "I'm sure...she's doing what she thinks is best."
"I don't know what to do." I say quietly.
"In situations like these, there's nothing you, or anyone else can do." He says, pulling away. "But, you don't have to go through any of this alone. You have me, and Josiah, and plenty of people who care about you, okay?"
I nod my head and he sits in the empty chair next to the couch. I sit back down beside Josiah, and Pierre begins making small talk with Josiah, who really just answers with straight yes and no 's. It would be funny to listen to in any other situation, but I can't focus on it right now.
I just stare at the hospital bed and feel guilty about just wishing this would end.
...
"Damien? Are you coming back in?" Josiah asks me, standing in the doorway to my dad's room.
I left to get some air, like, ten minutes ago.
It's 4:47.
Almost five.
"I don't think I want to." I answer him, leaning against the wall across from the room, tired of all of this sitting and waiting.
Nothing's changed since I got here.
No improvement. No changes at all...
Nothing .
I keep trying to tell myself, no improvement is better than dead .
But this waiting is driving me crazy.
Josiah walks over and puts his hand out to find the wall before leaning on it. This makes our height difference very obvious in my point of view. He's about to my shoulder.
"Damien... I was really, really little when my mom died and I don't remember it. But I still want you to know that I understand what you're going through, to some extent..."
I take his hand. "Thank you for being here. For real. I should have Pierre take you home tonight. Who knows how long this will last..."
"The doctors said 5:00... Didn't they?"
"Yeah. But that doesn't mean anything."
Could be five today, could be five tomorrow...
"I can't imagine they're too far off...but okay. I'm only going home if you're okay, though."
The doctor walks by and nods at me, before going into my dad's room.
Pierre comes out of the room and smiles at our holding hands.
I'm sure he's just glad we're not fighting right now...
The doctor comes back out to talk to us, and basically says what I just did.
It's a waiting game, and we have no idea when he might... die .
That's fucked up.
But the doctor didn't seem too hopeful that anything other than dying was an option.
No one bothers to tell my mom.
If she wanted to be here, she would be.
As far as I know, she hasn't left the chapel.
Once the doctor leaves, I ask Pierre, "Could you take Josiah home later tonight when you go? He shouldn't have to be here."
"Who said I was leaving?" He asks me.
"Um... me ? You don't need to stay."
"Someone does." Josiah says.
"Really, guys, I'm fine."
"You've told me a million times that you're not fine. Why the hell would I believe you now?"
...He has a point.
"I'll take Josiah home, and make us some food and bring it back, how does that sound?" Pierre says.
I nod. "Okay. I guess so."
I walk them out, wanting to clear my head a minute.
As soon as I watch them walk away toward Pierre's car, my chest constricts.
I hate being alone.
But right now, at least it gives me some time to think, and not have people constantly looking over at me, and being worried about me and breathing down my neck the whole time.
That room's getting very claustrophobic.
I stay outside for a few minutes, enjoying the cold air on my skin.
It's nice to not have to breathe the stale hospital air that reminds me of antiseptic and death .
I can't even begin to think about doing anything other than listening to my music and hoping and to every god I've ever heard of to save him.
Even though, by all religions' rights, he's a very bad man.
But he is my dad.
And he loves me.
And that's all that I need to know.
It's never bothered me that they're criminals, until they wanted me to join, and then this. Now I can't help but wish that they were fucking accountants, or some shit. It would be pretty hard to land yourself into the ICU over, like, a...calculator accident .
What if he dies, and I have to take over the business?
I can't think about that.
He's going to live. He has to.
Eventually, I force myself back inside. It's going to be a long night.
...
I wake up to my phone ringing on my lap. I don't even remember falling asleep.
My neck is stiff from falling asleep sitting up in the chair.
I rub my neck as I blink at my phone screen. It's 3:10 and Josiah is calling.
Oh boy.
I rub my tired eyes and answer groggily. "Hello?"
"Damien, c-can you please come b-back? I...I can't sleep. I keep hearing all this stuff from downstairs, and I-I don't know what to do and..." He rambles on.
"Hey, slow down. What's going on?" I ask, worried.
He repeats himself, a little more coherently this time.
"Do you really want me to come get you and bring you here? I can, but you won't sleep here, either."
"I want...you...to come here." He says unsurely.
"You know I can't leave." I say softly, trying my best to calm him.
"I know! I really do, I-I understand... I s-still need you. I need you so much. Can't y-you just c-come here for awhile? I want to s-sleep... Then you-can go back!"
"I can't leave. I don't know when..." I can't make myself say it, "I don't know if he's going to..." I quit talking altogether. I don't even want to think about it.
"I wish you were here, too." I say quietly, not wanting to wake Pierre, who's fallen asleep in the chair beside me.
"You...told me to call you if I needed you..."
"I know. I..." I stop and take a deep breath.
I look over at Pierre. He's passed out. I can probably make it back before he wakes up.
...Before it happens.
I can go for a couple hours... I could be back here after dropping Josiah off at school at 8.
"I'm no use here. I'll be there in 5." I say.
I hear the relief in his voice as he says, "Thank you so much. I'm s-sorry..."
"See you soon." I say, hanging up.
I leave the hospital and drive back to my house as quickly as I can.
As I open the door that goes from the garage and into the house, I'm met immediately by Josiah, who practically throws himself onto me with a hug.
I step back, almost falling over.
"Jesus Christ! I say, almost chucking, "What on earth...?"
"I missed you." He whines.
"Let's go back to bed, yeah?"
"I need you to carry me because I missed you so much." He grins for a moment, before pouting at me.
I sigh and scoop him up, carrying him bridal style back up to my bedroom. He rests his face on my chest.
Once we get up there, I sit him on the couch then go into the bathroom and change into my black and white pajama pants and a black tee shirt. I then quickly brush my teeth then put my phone on the charger, setting an alarm for 7:20 so that we have time to get ready to go.
As soon as I sit on the couch in my room, he curls up against me, putting his arms around me. I rest my head on his shoulder and I feel his slender fingers begin playing with my hair.
This is exactly where I want to be.
Not in the hospital with my dad, who could die right now, or in ten years, or who fucking knows when .
I want to stay right here. Always .
I sigh and lean into him more, my limbs feeling heavy and finally relaxing just a little.
"I needed you." I say quietly in his ear.
"I needed you. Why did you need me ?"
"Because I always need you." I say, surprised at his question.
"Always? Like... Always, always ? Forever?"
"Always, always and forever ." I confirm.
"I've always needed you, too. If I-I had you when I was little, then... I c-could have been happy."
If I wasn't fucking suicidal , I would be smiling right now.
"Well, maybe someday, you can be happy. With me."
"I hope so."
I yawn and he says, "Get some sleep, you must be exhausted."
I snuggle in, ready to get the rest I need.
As I sit there, I find myself thinking about the past.
Specifically thinking about when I was a kid, and the first time I found out my parents were criminals.
When I was eight, I had friends.
I know, a shocker. I was at my friend Cody's house and suddenly I felt really sick, so his dad brought me home.
My parents weren't expecting me and they sure as hell have a way of bringing work home with them.
My stomach was hurting and I ended I'm coming down with the flu later, but all I know is that I will never forget the exact details of this day.
I was wearing a Power Rangers shirt with the blue ranger on it. Because blue was, and still is, my favorite color.
I also had my Velcro sandals on and my black cargo shorts that were my favorite because I could hide so many action figures in the pockets.
My hair was longer back then than it is now, and it hung in my eyes. My mom always wanted to get it cut, but I insisted that everyone who is cool wears their hair like this.
I walked myself into the house, using the key my parents had given me.
I was a pretty responsible child and had to let myself in a lot, because even at a young age, they were never home much.
I walked into the house, dropping my duffle bag at the door and I walked into the kitchen. First, to find Pierre. I wanted to go let down. I did not feel good, and I wanted to S L E E P.
I walked in, and surprisingly no one was there. Weird.
I then went into the living room and again, empty.
I called out, "Hello?" But no one answered.
I started to get worried. If mom and dad aren't home, then Pierre always is.
Where is he?
I thought hard and remembered that when he finishes his work, he sometimes helps the cleaning people out.
Maybe he's in the basement helping with laundry...
But I wasn't allowed down there without an adult.
And even with an adult, I wasn't allowed behind the green door.
That room was mommy and daddy's room, and I wasn't allowed to go near it. It was always locked.
But I had to go find Pierre.
I didn't feel good.
I opened the door to the basement and I heard a scream.
I ran and hid behind the door, afraid to come out.
What if someone needed my help?
I looked down at my power ranger on my shirt.
I have to save the say, just like the blue ranger.
I pulled the action hero that matched my shirt out of my pocket.
I needed him for.my mission to come.
"Let's go." I told the blue ranger quietly and we snuck our way downstairs.
He was my second in command and always took his orders very seriously without causing trouble, unlike the RED RANGER. Obnoxious prick.
I went down the wooden steps as quietly as I could, making sure not to creak any of them.
I couldn't get caught until we complete our mission.
When I got down to the bottom of the stairs, I saw the green door was wide open.
I couldn't see in it, so I had to go through.
I wasn't allowed.
But the blue ranger told me I had to save the day.
So I took his expert advice and charged in.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my mother, holding a gun to a man's head.
They didn't see me.
I quickly hid behind a crate of weapons or some shit and then I peeked over again.
Only the bad guys use guns.
And my mommy had a gun pointed to a man's head, who looked really scary. He had a lot of blood on his face. I looked around some more and saw my dad, who had a chain wrapped around a different guy's neck.
Why were mommy and daddy acting like bad guys?
I THOUGHT they were good? They read me stories and kissed my forehead when I felt sad.
I wanted to join boy scouts and my dad said no, only to make up his own scout like thing and teach me how to tie knots and build fires and he would even make me my own patches.
How could that dad be the same dad that's choking someone to death.
I remember my mom saying to the man, "Fine, if you won't give us anything, you're useless."
She turned and my dad nodded and said, "Now."
His face was turning the color blue.
I did not like that color blue.
That color blue was scary.
I held onto the blue ranger tightly and I kept watching, my eyes wide.
I watched as mommy pulled the trigger and blasted the man's brains out of his head.
Blood went everywhere.
And I began to scream.
After that, my parents put me through years of therapy, but I've never been able to forget that fear of finding out my mom and dad were monsters.
And I didn't do anything to stop them.
End