Power

'The word power has such a generally negative implication in our society. What are people talking about?
Are they talking about muscles, or control?'
-James Hillman.

Getting ready for school that morning took longer than normal... sluggish, that's the only word I can use to describe it. I spent a good fifteen minutes just sitting on my bed doing my shirt up and then undoing it again. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go in or not. Eventually I decided that there was no point running from what I'd done, and I buttoned it back up. Even standing up and packing my books for the day was a distinct and conscious effort. I hid my eye, but I always did that. I tactfully avoided my parents, but that was nothing unusual. Nobody would notice anything.

The first person I saw in school was Naminé. I tried to give her a weak smile, and it wasn't returned. My heart sank and then I braced myself for whatever was coming. I'd really liked Naminé, it wasn't like it was with Kairi. She'd actually meant something to me and the expression on her face told me that our friendship was about to come to an end. She knew I already knew, and just handed me back a small book I'd given her full of quotes about love. My cheeks flushed, heat creeping over them quickly and gripping the back of my neck while my heart dealt with the first wave of regret and pain.

"I'm sorry Zexion. She means more to me than that. Boys come and go, but friends are forever." I hissed 'bullshit' in my head, feeling betrayed by her, but equally I could see why she was doing what she was. Kairi had most likely asked her to choose. She'd made her choice and I was glad, in a weird way, that she'd chosen friendship over a high school fling. That was just like her.

I sat in music class, one I had taken on a whim and was now deeply regretting as I propped my head on my hand, and my elbow on the table. I was sat next to Demyx, who, I reluctantly have to admit, is an extraordinary musician. He caught me looking and I quickly looked away. He didn't. He carried on smirking at me until I sat up straight and turned my attention to him.

"What?" I asked wearily. I thought that maybe he was about to comment on what I'd done; Demyx was popular, very much so; he would have heard about it.

"Weren't cha listening?" He asked brightly. "We gotta go in pairs for the next piece. Wanna come work with me? You play piano, don't cha?"

"...What, seriously?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. He'd caught me off guard.

"Well yeah, I mean, I don't really like playing piano but it makes a nice kinda sound, plus I really need an A* for this piece." The fact I was an A grade student for music was solely owed to my piano playing, but part of me worried irrationally that I would bring Demyx's grade down. His warm smile reassured me, and I was grateful for the fact I wouldn't be working alone again, albeit somewhat nervous. I stood up and made my way over to the piano with him as we tried to decide what to do for our cover.

The lesson flew by, and I could scarcely believe that Demyx had gone without mentioning the incident. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and very kind. I realised quickly that all my horrible comments towards him had not only been unnecessary and unprovoked, but born simply from my own jealousy. Ashamed of myself, I stood up from the piano and hurried over to Demyx as he packed his things away.

"I just wanted to apologise and say sorry," I said in a firm voice. I wasn't shy of the word 'sorry' so long as I meant it.

"For what, Zexion?"

"For all the times I treated you bad," I responded, keeping eye-contact with him. It was important to me that he knew I meant it. He just grinned and placed his hand on my shoulder, laughing.

"What? You think I took any of that seriously? Zexion, man, don't worry about it!" I couldn't help smiling with him; his happiness was contagious.

"Thanks, Demyx," I said sincerely, and then took my own bag.

After I moved on to my next class, it didn't take long for my happiness to fade. Chemistry was usually a favourite of mine, if only I could take my eyes off Roxas and Kairi. They kept kissing and every now and again his hand would slip under the table. I didn't want to think about where it was going. I tried to ignore it, but my knuckles were white from gripping the side of the desk. I picked up my pencil roughly and I half expected it to break like it sometimes did in films or cartoons. It didn't. I just wrote my notes in worse handwriting than usual, and my hand ached afterwards. I left the class in a foul mood, which was lightened a little when I walked past Demyx in the corridor and he bothered to acknowledge me, and ask me if I wanted to come eat lunch with him. I politely declined; I didn't like being around people, and him being the social butterfly that he was, it was bound to be somewhere buzzing with noise, somewhere over-crowded. The thought sent shudders down my spine.

It was when I placed my books in my locker that I found the second note. I grimaced; I had avoided turning on my phone all day because of this. Printed again? I suppose it was so that I couldn't identify the handwriting...

'Zexion, you have now seen what I have the power to do, and just in case you don't know yet, it is not just Axel and Kairi that got those pictures. Everybody in the school did. Ask anybody if you don't believe me. This weekend, you will be staying at your Uncle's house. You will deny him what he wants of you. If you don't do as I say, your new friend, Demyx, will find out everything.'

I knew I had gone pale. How did they know already about my Uncle's? Even I didn't know that. The phone that lay in my pocket suddenly seemed a little more useful. I shut my locker, and, note in hand, I went into the bathrooms and called John. His gravelly voice managed a hello before he began coughing as usual. I winced and leaned my ear away from the phone until he had stopped.

"Hey John, am I staying at yours this weekend?"

"Yea, Neil just called me to tell me. 'im and 'is bird are off somewhere, probably to shag. Fuck knows someone should," He spat out. I heard his lips around his cigarette as he took another drag.

"Still going through a rough patch with Carla?" I asked. Silently, I was sickened and irritated by the way he spoke about my parents.

"More than a fuckin' rough patch. Bitch walked out on me 'bout a week ago. Be nice to 'ave your company this weekend, Zexion." My hand was shaking with anger by now, my eyes narrowed in response to the sick sadism of his words.

"Yeah."

"Aren't you going to tell me it'll be nice to have my company too, Zexy?"

"Don't call me that," I snapped. "I'll see you this weekend." I hung up the phone and I wanted to break it. A little voice in my head reminded me of expense and practicality, so I just shoved it in my pocket and punched the wall instead. The images wouldn't stop flashing through my mind. "You fucker," I growled at nothing, "You fucking fucker, you fucker, I fucking hate you," the words that were meant for my Uncle died in the air. I stopped talking when I heard another set of feet come in, and my anger faded into a dull, listless silence. I sat back down, not trusting my legs to support me. When I heard them leave, I walked out and habitually washed my hands and dried them before looking in the mirror. I shifted my hair to look at the black eye, and despite the way it stung when I touched it, I sort of liked the way it looked against the blue. It would be the least of my worries by the time this weekend was up.