Chapter 8
Blue

Christophe swore in French as his mother threw another vase at him. He ducked and rolled away, grabbing his bag and shovel before storming out of his home with his mother still yelling obscenities in their mother tongue at him as he went. From one hell unto another, he began his short walk to school. It was snowing slightly and Christophe grunted as he adjusted his bag and slid his shovel into its strap, the school having long decided it wasn't worth the effort to get him to leave it at home or confiscate it.

He rubbed his arm under its coat sleeve. He winced, feeling a bruise forming already. Oh well...

"Christophe!" A defined British accent echoed around the nearly empty street, causing Christophe to glance over his shoulder towards the echoes' origins. Grinning and waving at him was his closest friend (he refused to say best friend, that was for girls) Gregory. The young Brit was speed walking towards him and Christophe had stopped walking so his friend could catch up to him. Gregory stopped right next to Christophe and grinned brightly at him. His golden hair was dotted with snowflakes and he was dressed to impress like always. His friend suddenly frowned and grabbed Christophe's chin. "Are you wearing cover up?"

An internal swear and Ze Mole shook off Gregory's hand and stepped back. "No, must be your imazination." The darker haired teen retrieved his pack of cigarettes and lit one up with his lighter that he kept hidden in his boot. His friend didn't look convinced but Christophe gave him no time to question it as he continued on his way to school. He took a deep, deep drag of his cigarette before tossing it into the snow and stamping it out with the heel of his boot.

"Those things are gonna kill you one day." Gregory fell into step beside his friend and watched as he retrieved a new cancer stick.

"Your point?" Christophe didn't look at Gregory, he figured it would be best if he didn't get a clear look at him.

"Oh nothing..." They continued to school in silence.

Christophe was in a bad mood all and day after that up to lunch. His mood was obvious to everyone around him. Everyone scurried out of his way as he stomped down the halls well, almost everyone. Gregory was never one to be scared of Christophe, no matter his mood.

Sitting down angrily at a lunch table in the corner of the cafeteria, Christophe glared at his lunch tray and completely ignored Gregory as he sat down across from him with his own lunch. Neither said anything as they ate. It was an awkward silence, nothing like their usual silence. It was only interrupted by the sounds of beeping as they filled the cafeteria. Any and all sound from the other students stopped as people began taking out their phones. Gregory took out his own phone and gasped quietly. This only worried Christophe who fumbled to get his own phone out of his stained cargo pants' pocket. His newest notification: A new blog by The Revealer. He felt dread crawling up his throat as he opened it and his heart dropped to his stomach as he saw the first few words.

Christophe DeLorne A.K.A Ze Mole.

He gulped quietly.

I bet you're all just dying to hear one of his secrets,
now aren't you?

He glanced around nervously. More than a couple people were staring and he refused to look at a shocked Gregory.

Notice the long sleeves his recently been wearing in lieu of his usual
t-shirts?
He's only been wearing them because it's been getting
worse.

This can't be real. The Revealer couldn't of possibly found this out!

What, you may ask, has been getting worse?
Why his home life of course!

No...No...No!

No father and a drunk of a mother is bad enough,

Christophe winces at the mention of his parents and Gregory is trying to get his attention.

but when she's been hitting the happy juice too
much things get...bad for Christophe.

He held his head in shame and pinched his arm right where a bruise was hidden to keep his tears back.

Bruises and cuts and scars cover him from where
his mother has beaten or cut or thrown something or
straight up abused him.

He tugged at his long sleeves, just the hint of a bruise peeking out and horrifying his closest friend.

When did this all start? Perhaps when she tried to abort him
with a coat hanger.

Another flinch at the mention of his almost abortion.

It's not that hard to believe it though. With a child
like Christophe? He probably deserves it.

He did. He shouldn't upset his mother so much. Christophe bit his lip as he saw a picture of him changing in his room. You could only see his back but that was enough. There were bruises and welts and cuts and scratches. It was dated for less than a week ago. Shakily he clicked on one of the two videos. This one was dated for just yesterday. It started where you could clearly see Christophe's home and the camera was moving forward as the filmer walked up to the house. The closer they got the more muffled screaming you could hear. They camera kept moving till their were right by a window and peering in. You couldn't exactly make out what was being said but you could hear a lot of yelling and see what was going on inside. Christophe was on the floor, supporting himself on his left elbow. You could see him holding his right eye as blood trickled down his arm. His mother stood before him with a wine bottle in hand with it raised as if to strike. And strike she did. She hit him hard in the right shoulder and then the left knee and then his gut, causing him to cough violently and to collapse to the ground. Then the video cuts off.

"Ch-Christophe..." Gregpry was stuttering...Gregory never stuttered.

But Christophe ignored him, he was on autopilot as he clicked on the second, but much shorter video. It began seeing Christophe dressed in his bathroom. You could barely make out his mumbled swears as he was pulling a couple bottles out and setting them on the stand. A quick zoom in showed it to be cover up and foundation. As Christophe turned to grab something, you could clearly see a brutal and ugly looking black eye adorning the right side of his face and bruises in the shape of finger prints on his jaw. Without an hesitation, he began applying and reapplying the cover up and foundation till you couldn't even make out the black eye again. The video cuts off. It was dated for this morning.

Christophe, still on autopilot, stood his lunch long forgotten as he left the cafeteria as many people watched him go a few of the girls crying quietly.

"Christophe!" Gregory was calling after him but he continued ignoring it as he walked down the halls and straight out of the school. There was no way he was staying for the rest of the day. He wasn't going home either though. He walked and walked and walked until he came to the edge of Starks' Pond. He remembered how Gregory taught him how to skate here when the were really young. It seemed like eons ago since he met Gregory. Christophe plopped down into the snow, ignoring the biting cold as it nipped at his flesh. It would be spring soon at least.

"Thought I'd find you here." It wasn't Gregory. When Ze Mole turned and looked he came face to face with Wendy Testaburger. Christophe didn't hate her exactly, but he didn't like her much either. But that was only because she was briefly dating Gregory and stealing all of the Brit's attention from him.

"What do you want Wendy?" Christophe turned back to stare at the lake's frozen surface.

"Just to talk." She carefully crouched next to the vulgar Frenchman. "Gregory's freaking out."

"So?"

"So? He's worried about you. I told him I'd talk to you first and Stan, Kenny and Bebe agreed to keep him from storming out to find you himself." Wendy bit her lip. "Just, come back to my house with me. I'll text Bebe to bring Gregory over. He wants to talk to you."

"I don't care beetch."

Wendy bristled at the name but let go as that's what Christophe called everyone. "Do you have any idea how you acting like this makes him feel? He just found out his best friend is being beaten to a pulp everyday-" Christophe flinches but Wendy keeps going. "And that said friend wouldn't even TELL him what was going on!" She raised her voice here. "He feels like he failed you as a friend! Because he wasn't there when you needed him!" Wendy took a deep breathe and calmed down as she noticed Christophe's shaking shoulders. "Just...come to my house and talk with him...Please?" With a shaky sigh (fuck, where were his cigarettes?) Christophe nodded and stood.

"Fine beetch..." Wendy smiled softly and sent a quick text to Bebe.

"I borrowed Stan's car." She opened the passenger side door for Christophe and he glared at her as she smiled innocently but nonetheless got in. The heat of the vehicle was a welcome reprieve to the cold he felt. It was a silent car ride, but not an awkward silence like earlier.

As Wendy parked Christophe felt nervous like never before as he saw Gregory and Bebe already waiting for them on the front porch. He took a deep breathe, relaxed as he saw Wendy's reassuring smile...and got out of the car.

One beat. Two beats. Three-POW!

Christophe fell back against the car as a force like a freight train plowed straight into his midsection.

"How dare you," was muffled against his chest. Christophe glanced down with a sad smile at his best friend.

"'ow dare I what?" Gregory lifted his head and glared as much as he could with watering eyes.

"How dare you go through this alone!"

"I'm sorry mon amie."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was pure coincidence The Revealer saw the display in front of the Testaburger household. Wendy and Bebe were smiling as the usual level headed and calm Brit cried into his French best friend's chest. They pulled a notepad out and slashed out Christophe's name. The Revealer places it back in their bag and pushes their dark hair out of their eyes before continuing to walk with a skip in their step.

Next Victim: Pete Thelman.