Note: This story was inspired by episode 2.14
Story 2: I need the music on to sleep…
The first time he'd done it was at the age of seven…
Liz and her boyfriend Tommy (who was one of those guys coming and leaving at least once a year) were having one of their usual arguments that tended to end up in screaming, yelling, crying and occasionally in violence. As always Jess was sent to his room when the fight started, but he wouldn't leave his mother alone with that man. After refusing to do as he was told, he was shoved into his room and the door closed up behind him. He then heard it being locked up causing him to realize he was trapped. The row seemed to last endlessly and he was desperate enough to simply put his hands on his ears.
It was useless.
He started to hum silently and to his surprise he didn't hear them anymore. After a few minutes he grew tired of humming and listened in order to find out whether they were still fighting….
"That is the last time I welcomed you to my home! Do you hear me? This is the last time!"
…They were still screaming…
However, the young boy was tired of sitting on his bed doing nothing but begging for the argument to stop (and Tommy to leave, most especially). He stood up, went over to his small radio and switched it on.
Looking back, it surprised Jess to realize he had forgotten the song that had been playing on the radio. It didn't matter. The sounds of the music had overwhelmed him tuning out the yelling on the other side of the door.
He picked up Peter Pan by James Matthew Barrie intending to read it for the tenth time, a book which always lay right next to his bed.
The words written on the page were devoured by the kid who wanted nothing more than to escape somewhere, anywhere. Only moments later, Jess Mariano found himself in Neverland carried on by the tunes that could be heard from the radio.
Sometime later, he heard the door slam causing him to jump, completely startled. Immediately he went to the door, but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his mother sob.
He hated to hear her cry.
"Mom? Mom, it's okay. He's gone. Let me out, we'll do something else… Keep your mind off things." His mother only cried harder and though he couldn't see her, he knew she must have been trembling.
"Don't cry," he whispered, "please. It's alright. Everything is going to be alright. Just let me out."
Liz didn't seem to have heard. After what seemed like hours but in fact were only a couple of minutes she was still out there (probably in the kitchen) crying and he was still locked in. He then knew she wouldn't let him out. Not tonight.
He felt his own eyes filling with tears, but they wouldn't fall. He felt so useless. He knew how to help his mother when she was in the same room with him, but like this when all he had to console her was his voice? That would not be good enough.
He put on the music to muffle her sobs, so at least he would be able to sleep.
The next few times had been on similar occasions, but it didn't become a habit for a while.
Once (more or less two years later) he came home too late and her freshly-married husband thought it was a good idea to show him that he wasn't the man of the house anymore.
It didn't hurt too much… No marks would be seen the next day. The humiliation of receiving a slap in the face with the open hand however, caused his eyes to moisten. Angrily he slammed the door to his room and put on the music.
Liz had to work late and wasn't home that evening. She would be back at 10 pm.
They never hit him while she was around (and sober, but that was another story to tell). Some of them were rough, yes, but they never hit him. One of them dared once – Michael – and that was the only time he saw Liz protecting him like a lioness her cub. Michael never returned to their home and was thrown out wearing nothing but a T-shirt, slippers and boxer-shorts which was a little cruel since it had been a rather cold December night. Liz was generous enough to throw out the wallet as well, so he could call a cab.
When she wasn't home, though, they were different. They were always different. Some of them could be the nicest, most considerate people in the world when his mother was around, most of them completely changed as soon as he was left alone with them. Not all of them hit him (and those who did always covered their tracks well enough so Liz - who wasn't the most attentive person in the world - wouldn't notice), but most of them acted indifferently to hostile towards him whenever Liz wasn't home. Not that the majority of them were much nicer when she was around, but she never seemed to notice...
Jess should've known that this husband was the same…
As soon as he turned on the radio after the door had loudly been slammed shut, his new stepfather stormed inside of his room.
He should have locked the door.
"I will not have you disrespecting me, boy! You will have to learn to respect me."
"Good luck with that."
It was the wrong thing to say, but he should've known that. The bruises were very well-placed, though. His mother would never know and he'd never tell.
That night he put on the radio just to forget and to be able to sleep.
Not one year later he had his first CD-Player. By the end of his tenth year of life, he already had his five different songs that made it easier for him to sleep.
After another year he gave up trying to sleep without music. There was always a reason to do it… When there was no yelling there was stress, when there was no stress there was the fear that something might happen.
Only music could tune out the nightmares.
That evening when Luke had his meltdown concerning the lack of space in the apartment because of the multiple of boxes that Liz had finally sent after him, had been an excellent example for how much his life had changed ever since becoming a part of the Stars Hollow community.
(He personally preferred chaotic places since he always swiftly found himself very well-oriented in them enabling him to have several escape routes, although those weren't exactly a necessity anymore).
It had taken him several pieces of clothing scattered over him until he realized his uncle's rambling. At home he could practically hear needles drop as long as the sound didn't belong to the music he listened to. Once, when one of his CDs broke in the middle of the night screeching slightly, he practically jumped out of his bed.
These days, it simply took so much more and he still couldn't fathom why.
Luke then started to babble about being attacked by boxes with arms and being strangled with clothing which would have been amusing hadn't Jess been so tired. When Luke explained that they would move out he truly couldn't understand why. They were fine… more or less.
What did his uncle want, exactly?
His life back, perhaps?
That thought scared him a little especially when Luke's sharp "No buts!" interrupted his objection about looking for a new apartment.
He sighed exasperatedly, but more out of being tired than actually annoyed.
"Now, go back to bed!"
What? Did Luke truly believe he would be able to sleep after all the screaming? But how could he possibly explain his weakness to his uncle?
Unsurely he sat on his mattress looking away from the man. This was so embarrassing.
"What?" His uncle was definitely annoyed.
"I need the music on to sleep." He still couldn't look him in the eyes, his voice sounded raspy and tired.
He would laugh at him. Luke surly would mock him. It was embarrassing, really. This was the perfect opportunity to make fun of the oh-so-tough rebellious teenager.
He heard his uncle turn around and timidly looked up. To his surprise he noticed Luke bow and putting his CD player back on without saying a word, the other man just seemed exasperated.
Instantly Jess was able to relax. He should've known… His uncle wasn't like the others.
Being reassured by that thought he laid back and without taking a blanket he just made himself comfortable and fell asleep once again.
He'd expected Luke to tell anybody, somebody. However, even years later nobody said a word and Jess knew that his little secret would be safe.
Hello, everybody!
That would be the second story. It's very Jess-centric, I know, but I hope you liked it anyway.
I've read so many versions of Jess' homelife... Well, I simply decided to present my own version.
Please read and review. I love reviews. My third chapter is already written and proof-read by my Beta Nymphadora Tonks whom I thank for her help at this point, so if enough reviews come in, I'll post the next chapter tomorrow (in more or less 24 hours)...
Next Chapter: We fight because I care (This one will have much more dialogue than the first two chapters...)