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Chapter Five: The Truth About Heaven
David
“Umm… Thanks for the ride.” I mutter quietly out of lack of anything better to say.
“I’m sorry you have to go back home.” Pierre smiles apologetically pulling into the empty drive way. I thank God that John isn’t home and reach over to open the door.
“Hey David.” Pierre’s voice is soft and unsure.
“Yeah?”
“Is…” He coughs. “Is John your step-dad the same John that I’m as bad as?”
I run a hand through my disheveled hair. “You’re no where near as bad as John.” I close the car door and head ‘home’. Closing my eyes I let my hand rest on the door knob. I don’t want to go in; I don’t want to deal with the reality that I was still here.
I sigh and open the door. The house is dark. I’m glad. I cautiously make my way up to my room. I have no idea what to do; no idea what’s going to happen. Once in my room I remove my clothes and without bothering to change into anything I lay down on my bed, dressed only in my boxers. I knew this was a bad idea but some part of me has long since given up. I was too worn out to care what was going to happen to me.
I fall into a restless slumber only to be awakened a little while later with an ache around my neck. I struggle for breath. I open my eyes and I am met with John’s dark cold eyes.
“Thought you could get away?” I struggle. “Where is my gun?”
I cough.
“What are you going to do with it? Try to kill me?”
I shake my head despite the hands around my neck. He lets me go and stands up. John frantically unbuttons his pants and drops them.
“That’s good.” He climbs back on top of me pulling my hands above my head holding them there with one hand pulling my boxers off with the other. “Because you know if you were to kill me you’d be arrested. There you would just be someone else’s bitch. ” He roughly thrusts into me and I bite my lip to keep from screaming and giving him any reason to believe that I was still alive.
Was I even still alive? Do you continue to live when there is no reason for you to be here? Sure I’m breathing, my heart still beats, and blood still flows through my veins no matter how often I try and stop it.
“Why don’t you just kill me?” I scream uncharacteristically.
He cackles loudly. “What use would you be to me dead?” His sharp nail traces my jaw leaving a trail of red blood.
“Is that why you took my gun? Thought you’d get lucky like your mom?”
I passed out before he left.
3:45pm
I wake up feeling extremely light headed. I carefully sit up in bed, blood soaked sheets pool around my waist. My body ached and it hurt to breathe. I stumble out of bed and with difficulty make my way to the bathroom.
Yellow light against white walls blinds me as I step in. I glance at myself through the mirror. I’m frightened. I run a hand through my hair only to bring it back down tainted with dry blood. It won’t be so bad once I wash off the blood. Sighing, I discard my clothes and step into the now steamy shower.
Once done I wrap a towel around my waist and once again face myself in the mirror. A large gash rests right above my brow; another is along my jaw where John had scratched me. The skin around that had begun to bruise turning into a nasty blue color. My chest is covered in bruises and scratches, and my arms are covered in scars and scabs. I look pathetic.
The door bell rings and I head to open it without much thought to what I was wearing and who it might be. I soon regret this when I open the door and see Pierre standing there.
“Shit.” What was he doing here?
“Umm… Are you alright?” I nod and close the door. Once again the door bell rings. This time I ignore it and pull on a jacket that was lying on the couch.
Pierre invites himself in and comes to stand in front of me. I sigh and look down at the floor. “This wasn’t here yesterday.” He mutters tracing the cut on my jaw.
“What are you doing here?” I ask brushing his hand away.
He shrugs. “I came to see if you were okay.”
“You saw n…”
“And you aren’t okay.” He interrupts me. “Did you take care of these already?”
I shrug.
“Show me where everything is and I’ll help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” I mutter hostilely.
For a moment he seems taken back, slightly angered. That moment passes fast and he just sighs. “Please…”
For the first time it is Pierre who looks vulnerable and I feel bad. After all, all he wants to do was get over his guild, who am I to deny him this? Once he gets over all this, he’ll leave me alone.
“Okay.” I look up at him and meet his brown eyes. “Just let me get dressed.”
“You need to report this John guy.” Pierre states as I lead him to the bathroom.
“It’s no use.” I say taking out the disinfectant and bandages.
“You shouldn’t have to go through this.” There is a moment of silence as he cleans up the wound above my brow.
“But I do go through it.” I shrug my shoulder biting my lip as it starts to sting. “Everything happens for a reason… I deserve this.”
He sets the stuff down and looks me in the eye. “No one deserves what you’re going through.” With that he places a bandage on the cut and kisses it.
I look up at him with a raised eyebrow and he blushes. “Sorry, it’s just something my mom used to do.”
“Yeah… Mine too.”
An awkward silence fills the small room. “Umm… So, any more?” I quickly shake my head. “Come on David, you said I could help.”
“And you did.”
“I know there are more, I saw them… earlier.”
I sigh and close my eyes.
“Please…”
I sigh again. With a bit of difficulty I remove my shirt and sit up on the counter. I feel the cold solution on my body and immediately tense up.
“Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head no. “It’s just a bit cold.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I hear the front door open. “Shit.” I curse and jump off of the counter, pulling on my shirt.
“What’s the matter?” Pierre asks.
“John’s home.” I mutter putting everything away. “You need to leave.” I add making my way out the door.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” He states through gritted teeth and grabs my wrist.
“Pierre. I know you feel back, but you can’t help,” No one can.
“I’m staying he won’t hit you if I’m here.”
“He’ll hit me when you leave.” I argue.
“I’m not leaving.”
“You have to.”
“Hey Prick! Where are you?” John calls from the stairs. “Did you kill yourself?” I cringe and Pierre’s hold on my wrist tightens.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain. “Sorry.”
“You’re still here.” John says disappointedly.
“Who are you?” He turns to Pierre.
“Hello sir, I’m Pierre Bouvier.” He gives him a charming smile and extends his hand.
“Johanna’s kid.” Pierre nods.
“Well, David I’ll need you to clean up your mother’s things.” With that he leaves.
“Lift up your shirt.” Pierre instructs and I do so. He then places the bandage he was holding on me. “All set.” He laughs ruffling my hair. I glare at him. “You’re adorable ya know.”
I am beyond confused.
“Come on I’ll help you clean up your Mom’s stuff.”
“Umm okay.”
“Your mom used to work with mine.” We are sitting in John’s room placing my mom’s clothes in a cardboard box that had been lying around.
“I remember.” I mutter. “She used to bring me with her. But that was before I started school; before she married John.”
Biting his bottom lip Pierre turned to me. “Why did she marry him?”
I shrug and concentrate on what I was doing. “She wanted me to have a father. We needed someone’s help.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean…”
“I know.” I interrupt. “Why did she stay with him?”
I shouldn’t trust Pierre with this. Why does he care? He is (was) making my life a living hell? Am I being ungrateful? He is the only one helping me. Why is he helping me? Oh yeah, guilt.
“John didn’t always beat me. This didn’t actually start until a couple of years ago. After my dad died Mom kind of hit rock bottom. She became suicide; she started drinking and got hooked on a shit load of junk.” Pierre sat down all his things and came to sit besides me. I started to shake, becoming extremely nervous.
“That’s when she started seeing John. He was a councilor, supposed to get her over her depression and addictions. Not…” I take a deep breath and swallow down the tears. “Not… provide her with better stuff and use her for sex.” I hold back a sob, covering it with a cough. “At first John wasn’t bad. He made her happy. Or so I believed, I was just ten when they got married. I wasn’t able to see that it was just a chemical happiness. Fake.”
Pierre has a look on his face that I am more than familiar with. He’s angry and I hope that I am not the reason. He places a hand on mine stopping it from shaking as his face softens. I pull my hand away from his. “John’s evil side didn’t show itself to me until I was in high school. At the beginning of freshmen year I started to notice that I wasn’t like a lot of guys. That was around the same time you and Jake noticed too.” Pierre visibly flinched and I felt guilty. “Halfway through that year I decided to come out of the closet.”
“You’re gay?” This is the time that I expect him to get up and punch me, scream FAG at me and run out.
I nod.
He does none of the things I predicted. “Cool.” He stated simply.
“John didn’t think so. That’s when he started… He began.” I take in a jagged breath. “To do stuff.” I finish off lamely.
I didn’t notice that I was crying until I felt Pierre’s hand cup my uninjured cheek and wipe away the tear. “Shh…” He whispered before pulling me into a warm embrace. I cling on to him almost as if for dear life and for the first time cry openly. His hands soothingly rub circles on my back. “I promise things will get better.”
We stay like that a little while longer before I hesitantly push him away. “Maybe we should finish up.”
Everything belonging to my mother was taken up to the basement except for her journal that I took to my room for safe keeping.
“Are you coming to school on Monday?” Pierre asks as we stand on the front steps of the house.
I shrug. If I’m still alive. “Thanks.”
He smirks. “No problem, I needed to work out.”
“Not for…that… for…” I cough.
Holding me.
“Listening.”
“No problem.” He ruffles my hair and I glare up at him before brushing it off my face. “It looks better when it’s in your face.”
“It’s annoying.” I state flatly. He smiles. I feel a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth but I push it away.
Pierre’s grin broadens. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”
“It’s the first time I’ve smiled in a while.”
“Think I can get a bigger one out of you?”
I shake my head. “Maybe some other day.”
He continues to smile. “So you won’t run away from me next time I try to talk to you?”
“As long as you don’t try to beat me up.”
“I guess I deserved that.”
“John’s going to be home soon.”
“I should probably leave.”
I nod.
“Good bye David.”
---
Pierre
Jake and I have been friends since the beginning of freshman year. We met during soccer tryouts and sort of just clicked. We got along, we like almost the same things. The thing was though; I was never truthful with him. I was never myself. Jake is your typical jock and he was that then too. I wanted that life of a Jock that I saw on TV. They were always strong, always had friends, people worshiped the ground they walked on.
Too bad the security of always having friends also turned me into a monster to say the least. I stopped caring about other people; I stopped thinking about any one other than myself. After a while all I wanted to do was climb that never ending social ladder. That ladder that I knew would crumble as soon as I left high school. I’ve made stupid choices and I would like more than anything to fix things. Things are always easier to lose than to gain.
I walk into my first period class and sit besides him. He ignores me and I do the same. It’s better this way, for the two of us. This has been going on for the past two weeks and people are becoming confused. Jake and I were best buds and people are starting to notice what has happened. We never fought before. Then again we never disagreed before. Jake always did what I told him to, or maybe it was the other way around.
Jake now hangs out with our usual group of friends while I isolate myself. I can’t stand to be around people like them. I don’t know how I was able to do it before. It’s my turn now to watch from afar what I’d been doing. I see and I’m not proud.
David hasn’t been coming to school. I’m worried. What happened after I left on Saturday? Did his step father get mad at him for my being there? Is he still alive? He has to be. I’ve called his house, he was always the one to pick up, he’d hang up the second he knew it was me. I thought that he trusted me now. Clearly he doesn’t, I don’t blame him. I’ve never given him reason to.
Lunch comes around and I am grateful to be out of class. I smile when I see David standing in line for lunch. I sit back at an empty table and follow him with my eyes. He walks out of the cafeteria and I sigh. I had hoped he’s join me.
I take a bite of my sandwich and stare blankly at the wall. Why did things have to become so complicated? Why did everything have to change?
I have a problem and this one might just be worst than guilt. I’m falling for David, romantically. I can’t like him, not that way. I’m not supposed to like boys, I do; I’m not supposed to, especially not this boy. He hates me, he’s afraid of me, he can’t stand me. Finding love is the last thing he wants to do. It’s the one thing he needs.
He’ll never love me.
That’s okay.
He’ll never let me love him.
My thoughts are interrupted when I catch a glimpse of Jake leaving the cafeteria in the same direction that David had left. I take a deep breath. Panic sweeps through me. I have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen. It’s the same feeling I had on Friday, the same one I had on Saturday. I stand up abruptly pushing my chair back. I toss the remainder of my lunch away and head out after them.
I find Jake by the lockers. He has David pinned up against the wall. A hand holding on tightly to David’s injured wrists, and the other around the fragile boy’s bruised neck. Anger boils with in me, with out much thought I run to them and pull Jake off him. Taken by surprise Jake just steps back and lets David fall to the ground in a coughing mess.
I kneel down besides him and place a hand on his back rubbing it in circles trying to calm him down. I sit him up and he leans against the wall, head thrown back as he tries to breath.
“Are you okay?” I ask brushing David’s damp hair from his forehead. He nods his head slightly and I stand up.
“Good.” I turn to Jake and with out much thought I punch him in the jaw.
“Fuck.” He steps back. “What the Hell is wrong with you Pierre?” He returns the punch.
I wipe the blood from my lip. “Nothing.”
“Then why are you helping the little fag?” He steps away from me. “First I thought you just felt back so I was like okay, he’s only human, but what is it now, do you actually care?”
“I’ve always cared.”
“Oh really.” He laughs cynically. “Even why you were trying to make him bleed?”
His words hit me hard, because a part of me knows they are true. I lose all control. I wrap my hands around his neck and push him up against the lockers. “I did a lot of stupid shit; you don’t need to keep bringing it up.”
A manic smile covers his face. “Lost one of your bitches and now you start going against your friends?”
“We are not friends, not any more.” I spat out resentfully.
He laughs. “What are you breaking up with me?”
“So not mock me…” I growl.
A loud voice interrupts. “What is going on here?” I let go of Jake and turn to look behind me. David is gone, we’ve gathered up a crowd.
I curse under my breath when I see Mr. Bryant standing there. I’m in trouble.
“Bouvier, Carter, my office. Now!” I sigh and follow him along with Jake.
“Take a seat.” He says in the same tone as before. “I’m calling your parents.”
--
“What were you thinking?” Dad yells as we head out of the school parking lot. I’m suspended from school for two weeks; I also can’t play any games for the rest of the season. All this for some stupid fight.
“You can’t just throw your future away because of some stupid argument.” He is fuming. I haven’t seen him this angry since the time Jay crashed his truck, and even then…
“Don’t think that these next few weeks are going to be some kind of vacation.” I groan and rest my head against the cool glass window. “Wait until your mother finds out.”
“What about my car.” I ask quietly.
“I’ll have Evan pick it up.”