(no subject)

[starwarsrule]

Chapter Three: Wounded

David

4:45 pm

When I came to I was lying on a strange bed covered in sweat and a soft blanket. I looked around frantically at the unfamiliar surroundings. I wasn’t home and I couldn’t remember anything. The last thing my aching mind could recall was hiding away in the boy’s bathroom during lunch. I pulled the blankets off and swung my legs over the bed. As I tried to stand the ground beneath me felt shaky and I collapsed.

I heard footsteps outside before the door opened and the room was flooded with light. Pierre stood there and looked around the room. I cowered against the side of the bed and drew my legs up to my chest.

“You’re up.” He smiled softly and walked towards me. I tried to shrink away from him, if I am small enough he won’t see me.

He knelt down in front of me. “Are you feeling better?” He asked placing a hand on my shoulder. I just flinched in response.  Pierre removed his hand and sat down facing me. His hand reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear, lingering there and I unintentionally sighed, causing him to move it.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. His gaze was transfixed on my bare arms and all the sudden I felt naked and vulnerable. I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my head in my arms.  “Are you cold?”

I shook my head and wondered why I was shirtless. “Would you like anything to eat? We left during lunch you must be hungry.” I shook my head.

“I’ll go get your shirt.” He stood up. “I think you had a fever earlier or something like that. You were sweating and shaking.”  I pulled my shirt on and continued looking down.

“Are those bruises from me and Jake?” He asked. I shook my head. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Then who?” I shrugged. Pierre sighed and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Look up.” He ordered gently.  Biting my lip I looked up to meet his eyes. “I wanted to say that I am sorry for what Jake and I did, do, to you.” I raised a questioning brow. An apology was the last think I expected.

“I was watching this kid get picked on today and I can’t believe how bad that looks. How much of an ass I was… am.”  He ran hand through his brown hair and for the first time I noticed he was shaking. “You’re really brave you know that. If I was going through the same crap as you are I would have quit school a long time ago.”

That almost made me laugh, but not quite, the only reason I made it through school was because the crap at school wasn’t nearly as bad as the crap that waited for me at home. “What time is it?”

He looked down at his watch. “It’s around five.”

I gulped, John would be already home.  “What’s the matter, you’re more pale than usual.”

“I-I- need to get home.” I faltered.

“Oh yeah wouldn’t want your dad worrying about you.”  He smiled getting up.  Yeah, wouldn’t want that happening. “I’ll drive you home.”

I tried to stand but only succeeded in hurting myself further. “Whoa, easy.” Pierre bent down, wrapped an arm around my waist, and helped me up.

“I have a question.” He stated as we go into the car. I nodded. “Those bruise, if they aren’t from Jake and I, who are they from?”

“It’s not important.” I shook my head.

He sighed and looked down at the steering wheel. “Which way should I go?”

After explaining which way to go, the car ride was relatively quiet. Pierre attempted to start up a conversation, but after a few minutes he gave up.

“Hey, David?” Pierre questioned pulling into the drive way. “You gunna be alright?”

I shrugged and got out of the car. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. The second the door closed behind me a vodka bottle crashed besides me.

“Where the fuck have you been?” John spat maliciously as he towered over me. I bowed my head and waited.

“Are you ignoring me?” I shook my head and his hand smacked me across the face. I shut my eyes tightly. “Just because your whore of a mother is dead doesn’t give you the right to ditch school.” That was escorted by another rather agonizing blow to the head.

That blow caused me to fall to the ground. The shattered glass ripped through my skin and all I could do to keep myself from shouting out in pain was the thought that doing so would just encourage the sick bastard. Grabbing me by the neck he forced me to stand. I gasped loudly as he shoved me against the wall.

“For what everyone thinks you’re still my son. You will be well behaved, you will not embarrass me. I don’t need people thinking I’m a bad father. Your mom already marred my reputation enough with that little stunt she just pulled.”

I whimpered as he began to unbutton my jeans. More than anything I wanted to beg him to stop. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs and push him off me. I knew I couldn’t. There was no use trying. ‘Yelling would only encourage him’ I repeated to myself. ‘This will all soon be over.’

“You’re one ungrateful son of a bitch.” He muttered. He discarded his jeans and forced himself into me with no warning. “I want to hear you scream.” He snarled into my ear and thrust in. “Just like your mom used to before you killed her.”

I turned my head away from him. With a few more thrusts and punches he got his release and let me fall to the ground.

“The funeral is tomorrow.” With that he buttoned up his pants and walked out the front door.

I was left there lying in a pool of blood and filth.  I knew that my mom wouldn’t be coming in tonight and kissing me good night. She will no longer be there to comfort me to sleep, and no longer will she be there to tell me everything would be alright.

A loud sob shook through my body as I collected myself; bringing my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them. Tears freely flowed down my cheeks and I had no idea why I chose now to start crying. Was it because my mom was no longer here? In a way yes, she was gone and I’m going to miss her. I was also jealous, I cried because maybe she was at peace. Just maybe Mom had found someone that loved her, and maybe there was something after death to give you that peace no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve been through. But where I was? There was no one to love me. There is no peace for the unfit. The broken. The weak. I was doomed to live this life and there was nothing that could help me.

"David, I'm so sorry."  Unfamiliar arms pulled me into a hug as if to comfort me. I didn't want anyone near me. I didn't want to be touched. I shrugged out of the person's grasp and ran out of the house. I don’t know where I was going I needed to get away. I ran, ignoring all the odd stares from the people around. They didn't understand. Why were they here? The funeral wasn't for another three hours. I was angry at all of them; they were here to say their final good byes to her, not to pity me.

Poor pathetic David. His dad is gone, his mom’s gone, and the only person left beat him and rapes him. Poor pathetic David.

How did I expect people to not pity me, when it’s all I do? I needed to get over myself.

---

Pierre

“Pierre, you should have invited your friend to stay for dinner.” My dad suggested as we were all seated at the table.

“His dad was expecting him back home.” I mumbled before shoving food into my mouth.

“Well… It would have been a pleasure having him over.” Mom smiled before turning back to Dad and continuing their conversations. I played with my food as my family continued what they usually did while I was uncharacteristically quiet.

“What’s wrong with you?” Evan elbowed me. “You’re never this quiet.”

I shrugged. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you boys doing anything important tomorrow?”

An echo of ‘no’s’ filled the room for a moment. “Good.” Mom set her fork down and clapped her hands together. “I told you guys about the nurse that passed away the other day,” we nodded for her to continue. “I would really appreciate it if you guys would go with me to the funeral tomorrow.”

“Mom…” Jason whined. “You know I cannot stand funerals.”

“The only funeral I’m ever going to will be mine.” Evan shrugged. “And that ain’t happening any time soon.”

“I’ll go.” I said quietly. It was the least I could do.

“Thanks sweetheart.” Mom smiled. “Can you make it honey?” She turned to Dad.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get sometime off work.” He smiled sheepishly.

“It’s okay honey. I guess it’s just going to be me and Pierre.”

“Pierre just wants to get out of school.” Jason chuckled. That was partially the truth; I didn’t want to deal with Jake. I still haven’t spoken to him and I was more than sure he’d refuse to talk to me.

For a strange reason I wanted to be there for David, make sure he was okay, wanted to see him, talk to him… I wanted to be there for him?

Be there for him? He wouldn’t want me there. I, after all, was the cause of most of his troubles.

“Pierre.” My head snapped up at the sound of my father’s stern voice. “Your Vice Principle called.”

“Uhuh…”

“He said you missed a couple of your classes today.”

I gulped. “I wasn’t feeling too good after lunch, so I left.”

My parents looked at me skeptically as my brothers covered up their grins. “Why didn’t you go to the nurse’s office?”

“I didn’t think of that.” I replied with a shrug.

“I don’t want to hear about you missing school ever again…” My dad was trying hard to stay calm.

“Isn’t he going to have to ditch tomorrow so he can go to the funeral with mom?” Evan beamed.

My mom glared at him as I gave him a grateful smile for distracting my dad for this moment. “He has my permission.” She stated through gritted teeth.

“What was your friend doing here anyway?”

“He’s in one of my classes; he came to bring me my homework.”

“Why didn’t he just call you and tell you?”

“It was a worksheet.” Glaring at my brother I questioned. “May I be excused? I don’t feel well.”

“You look healthy to me.”

“Jay, leave your brother alone.” Dad scolded. “Take your plate to the kitchen first.”

“Very mature…” Jason rolled his when I stuck my tongue out at him.

Lying on my bed staring at the ceiling, thoughts of David seemed to be the only things going through my head. I should have taken him to the nurse; it is obvious to anyone with half a brain that he had a concussion.

Then why didn’t you take him to the nurse’s?

I sighed running a hand through my hair. I panicked.

Did you really?

No, I was afraid.

Scared? Pierre Bouvier scared?

I would have gotten in trouble, they would have asked questions.

You’re one selfish bastard, aren’t you?

Shut up!

He was bleeding and passed out on the bathroom floor.

I didn’t leave him there.

Do you want a parade, a badge? Are you proud of yourself? If it weren’t for you he wouldn’t have been there in the first place!

“Shut up!” I shouted aloud, burying my head in my pillow. I was frustrated and all I wanted was for the nagging voice to leave me alone. I was guilty enough as it was, I didn’t need someone to shut down any reasoning I came up with. I know I did something and I regretted it. I regretted it more than anyone would ever know.

Then why don’t you stop whining about it and do something? Help him Pierre.

I can’t help him!

You can’t or you won’t?

“I won’t ‘cause I can’t!” I screamed into my pillow before pulling it over my face.

“Dude, I know your life may suck compared to mine, but it’s really no use killing yourself.” Jason laughed walking into my room.

“Go away!” I shouted tossing my pillow at him.

“You’re such a chick.” He chuckled when my pillow didn’t hit him.

“What do you want?”

“I came to bring you my black suit. Mom said you’ll need it for tomorrow, something about your old one being too small.”

“Thanks.” I grumbled taking it from him and tossing it on my desk.

“I really hate you sometimes.” He laughed walking out.

“The feeling is mutual.” I said quietly looking down at my shoes.

--

“Beautiful day isn’t it Pierre.” Mom pointed out on the silent drive to the cemetery.

“Yeah…” I mutter. “Too bad we’re going to a funeral.”

“People die Pierre.” She shrugged. “We can’t stop it. We can’t change the weather.”

“I know…” I sigh bleakly and stare out the window at the passing cars.

“Don’t let it bring you down.” She ruffled my hair and continued to drive. Don’t let it bring me down? If death wasn’t supposed to bring me down what would?

My hands were shoved into my pocket as I stood there under a clear blue spring sky as I attended the funeral of a woman I’ve never met. I kept an eye on her son, David, whom in the past I have beat, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry and wretched. David looked miserable. His eyes were blood shot and blank, his black hair and unruly mess. A bluish green bruise ran down his jaw.

“That’s her son.” Mom pointed him out. I nodded and continued studying him. He was pale; his hazel eyes looked gray and dead. I had expected to find him crying, he wasn’t. He was emotionless as always. “He looks really beat up.”

“You would be too if your mom just died.” I whispered.

She shook her head. “No in that sense of the word. Is he having a hard time with kids at school?”

I shrugged. Yes mom, I am the cause of most of it. You see Jake, the golden boy that spends the night at our house, and I enjoy kicking him around, pushing him to his limits to see if he would cry. He doesn’t cry, he only bleeds.

A man stepped up. He looked respectable; he was introduced as her husband, David’s Step-Dad. He didn’t look too sad, he wasn’t crying and there was no sign of him ever crying. Men don’t usually cry though, but this was his wife…

I looked around the black clad mob; David was nowhere to be found. Wanting to know what he was up to, I shrunk away from everyone.

I found him seated in front of another grave. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Tentatively I took a seat besides him.

“Hi.” I whispered. He didn’t respond he didn’t even look up. I glance at the grave stone, Andrew Desrosiers. “Is this your dad?”

“I wanted her to be buried next to him.” He spoke softly.

I nodded. “How are you?” I asked placing a hand on his shoulder. David flinched and I removed it with an apology. He was shivering, and with out much thought I took off the suit jacket and draped it over him.

“Why?” He questioned.

“Why what?”

“Why are you trying so hard to be nice to me?” His hand tightly clutched the jacket before handing it back to me.  I shrugged, I didn’t know the answer. “You feel sorry for me.” I shook my head. “You don’t. You’re guilty.” I sighed then nodded. “Why?”

“For what Jake and I have done to you. For being a jerk, for not stopping it earlier… I don’t know. I’m really sorry for what we’ve done.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry.” He stood up. “You were right.” With that he walked away.

“Where have you been Pierre?”

“I wanted to talk to David.”

“How is he?”

“I don’t know.”