Chapter 8 of will I wake
A/N: don't own house, rent or celine dion's 'fly'. Keep a look out for the oneshot that goes along with this chapter, I would post it now but I am in a hotel room and don't have it with me =]
When Carrie entered the room, she rushed over to me. "Mark sweetie, are you okay?" Her tone conveyed concern, and she placed a hand on my arm. I nodded silently, afraid that if I spoke even a word I would cry, and just start bawling and sobbing. She sat in a chair in the corner, nervously drumming her fingers on her leg.
I was lying on top of Roger, my head on his chest as he sat up against the wall. His arms cradled me, easing a bit of the tremors coursing my body. My teeth chattered anxiously, and my grip on Roger was desperate. I wanted to be away from here, anywhere but here, so badly. This feeling intensified as the door was slammed open, an older man with a cane limping angrily into the room.
Dr Cameron rushed after him, furiously grabbing his arm. "Don't you dare," she muttered under her breath. He just gave a small, sarcastic smirk.
"Why, Alison, I would never," he was obviously not very good at faking sincerity.
I cringed back, pressing myself against Roger. I trembled, gripping his arms around me. The crippled doctor turned on his heel to look at me, a barely suppressed grin on his face.
"So you're the little gay kid with the bleeding problem," he bluntly stated.
I fearfully looked to Roger, who tightened his hold on me, glaring at the doctor.
While I was still turned to look at Roger though, the doctor jumped at me, giving a loud yell. I jumped about a foot, cowering against Roger, tears finally breaking their barrier and streaming down my face.
"House!" Dr. Cameron yelled, looking scandalized. She quickly and gently approached me, standing in between me and the doctor. "Just make the diagnosis and get out!" she said firmly.
"My, my, is it that time of the month again?" he smirked defiantly, apparently proud of his little joke. No one else seemed to find it funny, however.
I involuntarily let out a tiny whimper, burying my face in Roger's chest. This guy terrified me.
"You all are just a bunch of sticks in the mud today, huh?" he rolled his eyes and popped a couple pills into his mouth. I had a feeling that I didn't want to know what those were. "Before I came in here there were two possible diagnoses. Number one, on account of the whole 'I like guys!' thing, it could have been that he is a fan of overly rough sex." God, this guy couldn't get any blunter, could he? "The second diagnosis," he paused, with absolutely no compassion in his voice, "is that he has been raped. The test I did when I came in here has confirmed the second diagnosis."
It sickened me how he said this so plainly, he even seemed proud of himself for joking about that stuff. I really didn't give a crap though. Carrie's face held a look of shock; apparently this confirmed something she had not wanted to believe was true.
"Okay I'm out of here, you interrupted my nap," he looked at Dr. Cameron, as if his nap was more important than patients.
She shooed him out. "Goodbye, House," she shut the door after him. Turning back to us, she had a truly apologetic look on her face. "I really am sorry about him…he doesn't have many…social skills," she said, trying to find the right (and appropriate) words.
I didn't respond; I couldn't. Just like that, my secret was out. Well, not fully. They still didn't know who it was, though I'm sure Carrie was suspicious. They couldn't force me to admit it though, and I knew I would do whatever possible to keep this secret. I interlocked my fingers in Roger's, scooting farther into his lap. I could feel him rest his lips on my head, and I closed my eyes, sighing gently.
"Mark," Dr. Cameron hesitated a moment, jumping up to sit on the counter again. "I need you to tell me who did this."
I turned my face away, lips sewed shut. I wasn't going to say, they couldn't make me.
The auburn haired doctor looked over me, scrutinizing me, and pursed her lips for a moment. "I'm sorry, Carrie, Roger, I'm going to need you to step outside the room for just a moment, okay?"
Carrie nodded, reaching for her son. I widened my eyes, looking to Roger. No…I didn't want Roger to leave…
Roger carefully got up, holding me in his arms for a second, before setting me back on the bed and giving me a soft kiss. "I love you," he whispered, holding my hand till the last second as he left the room.
I clenched my jaw, shivering now that Roger's warmth had left me. I brought my knees to my chin, hugging my legs tightly. Dr. Cameron brought one knee up to her chin, speaking softly and calmly.
"Mark I know you're scared right now," she said softly.
'No you don't' I thought to myself.
"I really do. I went through this when I was about your age; I remember how hard it was. You can talk to me, its okay."
Oh.
"Now the reason I had to ask Roger and Carrie to step out was because I really wasn't sure if they were the reason you weren't talking. You seem pretty close, but I just need to be sure, before I bring them back in. Was it Roger?" She looked over me and my reaction to the question.
I shook my head immediately. "No, Roger wouldn't do that. He's really sweet…he's my best friend; we've known each other since kindergarten. He wouldn't push anything on me, ever. He says that we're going to go at my pace, all the time."
"Okay hun, I just had to check. Do you want them back in for the rest of this?"
I bit my lip, nodding. I really wanted to feel Roger's arms around me right now.
She opened the door, allowing them to reenter. They went back to their previous positions, Roger picking me up so he could put me on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent.
"Alright, sorry about that. Now, Mark, will you tell me who it was?"
I shook my head. "I don't want to," I whispered.
"Can you answer some 'yes' or 'no' questions for me, then?" she asked unsurely.
"Um…maybe," I said softly.
"Was it someone you know?"
I pressed my lips together. "I don't wanna answer that one," I shyly told her.
She sighed. "Was it an adult?"
Hesitating a moment, I nodded. She marked it down in the chart, and Carrie pressed a tissue to her eyes discreetly.
Closing my eyes, I warily rested my forehead against Roger's cheek.
"Has it happened more than once?" she glanced up at me, awaiting my answer.
"Um…I'm not sure how to…um, kind of?" I stuttered. Did the other stuff count? I didn't know.
"So it was a lesser degree before?" To this I nodded. "There's some stuff that's still considered…rape…" she slightly winced at the word. "Um…was there any other um, penetration before this? Of anywhere else?"
I took in a sharp breath. It was hard to hear it like this. "I…uh, yeah…"
Roger stroked my cheek, kissing my head. "I've got you baby…it's okay," he murmured to me.
"Orally?"
I nodded, feeling that nasty taste in my mouth, though it wasn't really there. God, now I wanted to brush my teeth so badly…ew ew ew. I hate that…I felt like gagging at that moment.
"How long has this been going on Mark?" She tapped her pen against her teeth, contemplating the information I had already given her.
"Um…I don't know…" I mumbled. Truth be told, I don't remember when it wasn't happening. "A long time."
"Okay…let's see. Hmm…Carrie, can I talk to you for a minute outside?"
Roger's mom nodded, following the doctor and wiping at her eyes again, trying to hide it from Roger and me.
I let loose a small, quiet sob, hiding in Roger's embrace. "Roger…Roger I…" I choked up. The urge to cut was unbearable, I needed it so badly.
"What is it baby? Talk to me…Mark sweetie, what can I do for you?" He cuddled me, coddling me.
"Just…I, I…please, don't let go," I pleaded. "I'm scared…I'm really scared Roger…"
Roger surrounded me, folding himself around me. "I won't love…I promise you that."
I held onto his arms, guiding his hand to my stomach. For some reason it just felt even better, to have him holding me like that.
Dr. Cameron and Carrie walked back in minutes later, Carrie leaning over to kiss my forehead.
"Mark…this is a very important question." The doctor stopped for a minute, letting that sink in. "Did your father do this?"
My heart skipped a beat…or five. My breathing got shallow. "He's my father, why would he do that?" I said in a low voice, trying to seem clueless. Hey, I didn't lie, she asked if he did. I didn't say 'no.'
"Well…some fathers have problems, and they do things they shouldn't, they do things that are wrong," she explained. "We can help you Mark, we can protect you if you need it. Just say the word and he will never come near you again."
I shook my head. "No. He's…he didn't." I spat out, lying through my teeth.
Roger murmured in my ear so only I could hear. "Mark baby please..."
"I said he didn't!" I burst out. I shook my head repeatedly, my eyes wild.
Dr. Cameron glanced at Carrie. Troubled, she addressed her. "If he doesn't admit it there's not much we can do besides sending in DCYF to investigate. That's really the only option at this point."
Carrie nodded at this, and my heart sank. No…this was really not good. Seriously…I was going to get in so much trouble.
"But…I said it wasn't true, so why do you have to call DCYF?" My voice sounded meek even to me.
"I'm sorry Mark, I hate to say it but it's pretty hard to believe you right now. We just want you to be safe because no one deserves that, especially you. You seem like a really good kid," her face was apologetic, writing in the chart again.
Oh yeah. Real great kid. Yeah. She obviously can't see the real me. I turned my face away, cheeks turning red. If only she knew how often I had to be punished for being bad, she would never have said that. Crap my dad was going to kill me for this. I looked up at Roger, a pleading look in my eyes.
"I'm sorry baby," he murmured, caressing my stomach, nuzzling against my cheek.
"Can I just go home with Roger and Carrie now then?" I asked, defeated.
Dr Cameron nodded sympathetically. "Yes, of course. Now there's really not much we can do to make this heal faster, besides keeping you as comfortable. Keep the stress as minimal as possible, don't do anything too strenuous. If you need pain medication, don't use anything with aspirin, it will make you bleed more. If it gets worse or the pain gets out of control, come right back okay?"
I nodded, slipping off of Roger's lap and standing up tiredly. It was about midnight right now. Roger and Carrie also stood, with Carrie signing a couple papers.
"Good luck Mark," the doctor said softly, resting a gentle hand on my arm. "I hope everything works out okay for you."
"Thanks," I mumbled abashedly. We walked out of the emergency room, over to Carrie's car. I kept myself curled against Roger's side, clutching him tightly.
……………………………
When we walked into the house, Jessie was curled up on the couch in pajamas with her hair in a messy bun, watching television. She leapt up, all traces of exhaustion erased, and came over to hug me. She pulled back, looking me over. "You gonna be okay little brother?"
I nodded weakly, yawning. Just as she considered me her second little brother, I considered her my second older sister. Hell, she was more of a sister to me than my own.
Carrie quickly hustled us up the stairs, telling us to get to bed. "Mark, Roger, I'm going to let you stay home from school tomorrow, it's been a very long day. The only problem is, I'm working first shift tomorrow, I won't be home until about four. I'm just not sure that I should leave you without an adult Mark, in case something happens. Now that Mrs. Fitzgerald is gone…well, I don't know if this would be okay with you, but Angel seemed nice. He said he was in between jobs…would you mind if I called in the morning and asked him to stay with you? If not I can get someone to cover my shift for me."
I nodded. "Yeah that's fine with me," I said, looking to Roger who agreed. Angel seemed incredibly nice, and fun too.
"Okay, thanks boys. Now, get into bed, it's late and you both have dark circles under your eyes," she shooed us into the room, closing the door and leaving us to get changed.
I pulled out some of Roger's pajamas for myself, like always. I slipped out of my sweatpants and into the plaid lounge pants, blushing as I tried to keep my eyes off of Roger as he changed. He was so…gah, he was hot. I quickly changed my shirt, and as soon as it was settled over me, Roger wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his lips to my shoulder. I closed my eyes, leaning back against him, the tension melting from my shoulders. What helped even more was when he started rubbing my shoulders.
"Mmmmm…oh god…Roger that feels `mazing," I mumbled incoherently.
He chuckled, pulling me over to the bed. "Come on babe, let's go to bed."
I climbed in between him and the wall, resting my head over his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart. Carrie knocked and came in, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Mark sweetie…I'm here, you know, if you need to talk. I promise, anything you need. I'm very proud of you; you were quite brave tonight." She rubbed my arm gently, kissing my forehead. "Come get me tonight if you need anything at all, I mean it."
"M`kay," I murmured, my eyes half lidded. She gave us both one more kiss, and left the room, shutting off the light and whispering a goodnight.
I snuggled up to Roger, kissing his chest. "Roger I love you," I told him, slipping a hand under his shirt.
"I love you too my baby," he whispered, petting my hair. The soft glow of the moonlight shone over Roger, making him look beyond beautiful.
((there will be a oneshot as an add-in to the story describing Mark's nightmare and the aftermath of it))
"Roger! Mark! Angel's here!"
I blearily opened my eyes, moaning softly. I wasn't the least bit embarrassed about our positions when we woke up; after all, we had woken up like this many times, even before we were a couple. Plus, it was quite comfy. Our legs were completely tangled up, his thigh between my legs, the same with mine between his. I loved this part of waking up, being closer than close with Roger.
I closed my eyes again, feeling like I had just gone to sleep. I hadn't really slept all that much, between going to bed so late and then being awake from that nightmare.
Roger slid out from under me, stretching. "Babe?" he asked softly. "C'mon, I've got you," he murmured, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs easily around his waist, arms around his neck, and put my face in the crook of his neck as he carried me down the stairs.
When we reached the bottom, I heard Carrie's and Angel's voices. "Oh, hey you two. Sleep well?" She asked quickly, grabbing her pocketbook. At Roger's answer of a nod (which was kind of a lie…whoops) she continued. "Jessie already left for her college classes, she'll be getting back about the same time as me, she has a long day today. I love you two, be good for Angel!" she said over her shoulder as she walked out the door in a hurry.
Roger set me down, so I was standing beside him. I looked up at Angel, who smiled gently at me. "Hey," he smiled. "You feeling okay Mark?"
I shyly nodded. "I'm better now," I softly said. I wasn't very talkative around new people, however nice they were. "Thanks…for coming over and everything…" I felt awkward.
"No problemo chico, I was just going to bored today anyway," he shrugged, giggling. "Do you guys want breakfast? I can make you something if you want."
Roger shrugged. "That sounds good, I could eat. What about you Mark?"
I scoffed jokingly. "You could always eat Rog…I'm uh, not really hungry."
"Babe you've got to eat something…supper last night technically didn't count. We didn't eat lunch. And it's safe to assume that you didn't eat breakfast either," he pointed out.
Grumbling, I looked down. "My stomach hurts though, I don't want to get sick again," I turned my gaze to him, a pleading look in my eyes. I knew if I ate I would feel worse. Plus…I don't like the way I look. I'm like…fat. I don't like it. Roger says I'm not, but my dad manages to easily point it out constantly.
"You don't have to eat a lot love, just eat something small, for me?" he gave me the puppy dog eyes, and I threw my hands up in the air.
"C'mon chico, I'll make you something bland," Angel gave me a reassuring smile and led us into the kitchen.
As we walked into the kitchen, Roger gently grabbed my waist from behind, kissing my neck. "You're so gorgeous baby," he whispered against my pale skin.
I shivered, turning my face away and blushing. I held back the urge to deny it, even though I knew it wasn't true.
"You're the hot one," I murmured, pecking him a quick kiss.
A few minutes later, all three of us were sitting at the kitchen table, bowls of oatmeal in front of us. I usually hated oatmeal but I had to admit, this was really good. I finished my bowl and stood, setting it in the sink to soak.
"I uh, I have to…go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," I said awkwardly, dashing up the stairs. I closed the bathroom door behind me, and did the one thing I thought I had put behind me.
I stuck my finger down my throat and gagged. I repeated this action, getting the hang of it again, until everything I had just consumed came back up, except this time it was on purpose.
I thought I was over this. Not even Roger knew, but in seventh and eighth grade, my father's words would get to me, and I would go through periods of really horrible self image, as health class called it. I did this, the throwing up, the food restriction, the severe dieting, exercising to the point of exhaustion on and off. I thought it was getting better.
Wiping my mouth on a piece of toilet paper, I breathed heavily, standing and flushing the toilet. I gargled with Roger's mouthwash for a good two minutes, washing my hands and face thoroughly to rid myself of the smell of puke, though I knew eventually it would become harder and harder to get rid of.
I trailed down the stairs, and seeing Roger and Angel finishing up the dishes, I silently berated myself. I should have been down here to do the dishes. I mean…I knew this wasn't my dad's house, but still. Sitting on the couch, I pulled the blanket from last night over myself, tucking myself into a little ball.
"Hi beautiful," Roger said with a smile, bringing Angel over. We all sat on the couches, and I laid down, my head on Roger's thigh.
"No m`not," I mumbled. "You're a comfy pillow Rog."
He chuckled. "Yes, you are. Why thank you," he leaned over to kiss me, and rubbed my side absentmindedly.
"You guys remind me of Tommy and me when we were younger," Angel had a soft smile, as if he was reminiscing.
I propped my chin up on Roger's thigh, and looked at Angel. "Really? When did you get together? How did it happen?"
"Oh…we were both about your age. We had been friends for a while, but I have to admit…I had the biggest crush on him for quite some time," Angel giggled, raising a hand to her lips. "We were just hanging out one day…well, not just hanging out. I…I was crying, a lot, and Collins was kind of…comforting me. Something had happened that had me pretty upset. So he was hugging me really tight, and I felt him crying to. I didn't know why and when I asked, he said that he just really hated that it had happened to me. Then I just…felt something in my stomach. Like something tingly. And I kissed him…and surprisingly, he kissed me back," Angel looked in a way happy, but also as if she was remembering the event that had caused the happy moment.
Roger and I were silent the whole time he was talking, soaking it in.
"Sounds kind of familiar, huh Rog?" I said softly, petting his thigh. Remembering yesterday afternoon made me look up at him, and I took his hand, kissing it lightly.
Roger nodded pensively. He stroked my hair, smiling at Angel. "That's almost ironic…how it happened so similarly. What happened to make you so upset, if you don't mind me asking?" Roger hesitantly questioned.
Angel bit his lip, looking a bit nervous. "Well…um, my family…had never been the most stable family…"he began, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. I looked sharply to Roger, wondering if he thought this was going where I thought it was going. "You see, my dad…he did some pretty bad stuff. I um, I guess my…sexuality was kind of obvious, and my dad didn't like that. He would try to…I guess beat it out of me. Then one night he told me he was going to turn me straight. He was so completely drunk. He decided that…showing me what homosexuals did would turn me off to it. He…he raped me," Angel looked down, but then gave a dry laugh. "Guess it didn't work, huh?"
I was stunned, and by the looks of it, so was Roger. I clung to my beau, watching Angel closely. It seemed we had a lot in common…wow. I couldn't believe someone would do something like that to someone like Angel; he was just so…nice. I was speechless.
Angel looked down. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be putting all my burdens on you guys," he said softly.
"No! No, it's okay," I said quickly. "It's good to know…I mean…it's just kind of, nice to know that there's someone else out there who wasn't happy with what their family was like."
Roger looked to me in surprise, wondering if I was about to confess.
Angel raised his eyebrows. "Mark…honey are you saying that…did your father do those things? I have the understanding that you still live with him…."
I quickly shook my head, "No, No! He's just…he gets drunk a lot. He yells a lot. It's okay though, it's just frustrating sometimes."
Roger pulled me up to lay against him, lightly caressing my stomach. "You can tell you know…he knows what it's like, he'd be a good person to tell," he whispered very softly, so Angel wouldn't hear.
I sighed. Leaning over, I whispered in his ear. "I know…I want to. I'm scared though. I really want to, but I can't."
"I'll be here if you do," he assured me, kissing my ear, which made me shiver.
I gulped, debating this. Was I really going to do it? "Angel I…have to tell you something," my heart was pounding.
"Yes Mark?" Angel leaned forward, looking concerned.
"I…never mind," I said, shaking my head. "It wasn't important anyway."
"If you're sure…I'm here though, to talk, if you ever need to," He reached out, resting his hand on top of mine very gently. "If its family stuff, boyfriend questions, anything," he grinned when he mentioned 'boyfriend questions'.
I managed a small laugh. "Okay…thanks," I said softly. My arms itched; I needed my blade so bad. But I would try not to, for Roger. I scratched at my forearms, wincing as the fabric of my shirt caught a scab. I really wanted to tell. But my father…even when he wasn't around, he kept me so afraid. But I was okay. Right? I'm alive, I'm breathing (barely).
Roger locked his arms around my belly, nuzzling my cheek. I captured his lips in mine, licking at his lips softly before pulling away.
"Too cute!" Angel giggled.
I smiled bashfully, hugging Roger's arms around me. He tightened his grip, and I relaxed a little bit. Pain didn't matter when he was holding me. The tighter he held me, the safer I felt.
Hours later, I was lying on the floor with Roger curled up next to me, the both of us napping while Angel read a magazine. I was still exhausted from the night before. I was startled by the doorbell, and I bit my lip worriedly. I didn't know who that could be.
Angel furrowed his eyebrows, going to the door. "Can I help you?"
An official looking blonde, looking to be in her early forties, held a briefcase. "Hello, my name is Dawn Aaronson and I am from DCYF's investigation section. Is Mark Cohen here?"
My eyes widened. Shit. I cautiously got up, Roger right behind me. "That's me," I said shyly.
"I am here to talk to you Mark, about the suspicions that have been arising. We have had two separate reports of suspicion in one day, so this is serious," she said in a blunt tone. She didn't seem to really care at all.
I backed up into Roger's chest, feeling his arms hold me, encasing my in a very tight hug. "Roger…." I whispered, terrified. "Roger I want you…Please Roger don't make me…"
"I'm so sorry baby, I don't have a choice," He murmured, kissing my temple. "I'm here for you babe." His voice was worried, his touch concerned.
"I need to talk to Mark alone, I need you both to go upstairs behind closed doors," she demanded, marching right into the kitchen, placing her briefcase on the table. "Mark!"
I couldn't breathe, I was so scared. "No I want you," I looked up at Roger, tears in my eyes.
"Is there any possibility I could stay with him? I won't speak at all," Roger said desperately.
"I said I have to speak to Mark and Mark alone."
I already hated this lady. I held Roger's hand as he walked away, our fingertips slipping farther apart until I had no choice but to let go.
Angel looked at me. "Good luck," he murmured.
And just like that, they were gone. I walked into the kitchen with dread weighting down my stomach, dropping into a chair.
"Mark there has been two different reports of suspicion of child abuse-one for sexual abuse, one unspecified-within one day. We take that very seriously. Now I need to know, are these true, or have you been giving false information and/or trying to get attention by acting like you've been hurt?" She looked up uncaringly, looking bored.
I sputtered. "What the hell? Look, I've told people, this stuff isn't true. But no, I have not been trying to 'get attention'. Seriously, I'd very much like to get the attention off of me right now." This lady was pissing me off!
She rolled her eyes and snapped a piece of gum. "Has your father ever hurt you?"
I shook my head. "I've already gone through this stuff, okay? He hasn't hurt me, he hasn't touched me, and he sure as hell never would. And even if he did, its not like I would tell you," I murmured the last part under my breath.
"Excuse me?" She raised her eyebrows, marking everything down in the chart. "Sounds like you might be lying then."
Ah crap. I think she heard me. I have to get control of my big, fat mouth!
"I'm not. I swear to god I'm not." Too bad she doesn't know I gave up religion a long time ago.
She shook her head slightly. "Okay, then I'm done here." She closed her briefcase, walking to the door. "Have a nice day."
I gave quite a fake smile. "Oh I will…" as soon as she shut the door I finished. "Not."
I went to the bottom of the stairs. "She's gone!" I called out.
As Angel and Roger came back down, I found myself even more tired than before. I let myself fall into Roger's arms, burying my face in his neck.
"I've got you babyboy," he whispered, placing his hands under the top most part of my thighs and lifting me up. "I've got you."
Tears came to my eyes, and I had to choke back a sob. "It hurts Roger," I whispered. I wasn't even just talking about the physical pain anymore, even though I was incredibly sore. Gah my butt hurts, it sucks! But I was really hurting, inside. I felt mentally exhausted.
"Mark sweetie what was that about?" Angel sat down, and Roger followed. I straddled Roger's lap, facing him.
"It was nothing…it's just, people sometimes think that something's wrong because of, you know, him having drinking problems and all that. I guess I'm just kind of a screwed up kid, I have 'problems'," I rolled my eyes, using finger quotes.
"You're not a screw up honey," Angel said. "You're a great kid, I'm glad I got to spend time with the both of you today."
I shook my head softly, disbelievingly. "I don't know…I liked today too. It was a lot better than I thought it would be."
Angel gave me a sympathetic smile. He patted my knee gently.
I looked down at his hand and let a grin come to my face. "I love your nail polish," I told him, looking at the sparkly blue polish.
"Thank you!" he giggled. "I always wear it, its like an addiction, I swear…I have it with me right now actually!"
"It's really cool…oh really? Um…" I hesitated a moment, but then looked at him hopefully. "Could I maybe try it?" I asked shyly.
"Oh, of course!" Angel beamed.
Roger laughed, hugging me tightly. "You're so cute Marky," he whispered, kissing my cheek.
Angel took the nail polish out, reaching for my left hand first. He gently brushed the paint on smoothly on each fingernail, then did the same to the other hand. It made me shiver, it was a funny feeling. I liked it though, it looked awesome.
"I love it!" I exclaimed, grinning as the paint dried.
Angel gave a laugh. "I'm glad…the color brings out your eyes," the almost feminine man said.
Roger nudged my cheek with his nose. "It does, beautiful."
I blushed. I leaned up to kiss him, trailing my newly painted nails over his cheek. I turned my face to the door as it unlocked and opened, seeing Carrie walk in.
"Hey guys!" She said, looking to all three of us. Walking over, she kissed me and Roger, giving me a long hug. "You okay baby? The woman, Dawn, said she was coming to talk to you."
"Yeah…she did," I murmured, grateful for the hug. Carrie was like a mother to me. "I…I'm okay."
She hesitantly smiled. "Good. We'll talk later okay?" At my nod she turned to Angel. "Thank you so much dear, you don't realize how helpful that was."
"Oh it was absolutely no problem Mrs. Davis, anytime you need someone to come over just let me know," Angel smiled, hugging Carrie.
"Call me Carrie, won't you? Would you like to call Tom and we can have the two of you for dinner?" She spoke easily; the two seemed to get along well.
"That would be wonderful Carrie, thank you," Angel beamed, "I'll just run over to the house and get Tommy, he might still be winding down from work."
Carrie nodded. "Okay hun, we'll see you soon then?"
"Yup!" Angel waved on his way out the door.
Carrie sat down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "Oh boy, its been a long day," she said tiredly. "I had a meeting with Dawn today, Mark. We talked for a bit. How was it when she saw you, did everything go okay?"
I lowered my gaze. "Um…it was….okay."
Roger raised his eyebrows. I sighed. "Okay…I guess it wasn't. She was really mean."
Carrie looked unsurprised. "That's what I thought too."
"She said I was looking for attention," I said softly. Well…maybe I was…I don't know, maybe this stuff wasn't as bad as I thought; maybe I was over exaggerating it. It could be worse, right?
"Mark love, you're not looking for attention, you know that right?" Roger looked down at me, kissing my head.
I averted my gaze, unable to answer him.
"Mark…honey," Carrie hesitated. "What exactly did you tell her?"
I bit my lip, avoiding answering for a moment. "I said…that it wasn't true…"
"Oh Mark, why?" She placed a hand on my arm.
"Because…because its not true," I whispered, even though that was a lie. I hated lying to Carrie and Roger both.
Roger rocked me slightly, kissing my lips. I reveled in the feel of his lips, warm and moist and soft against mine, his taste so perfect it made me melt.
Carrie sighed. "I have to say that I really can't believe you Mark. I'm sorry…but I can't. You are always hurt, and the obvious intent in it…its horrible, really. And…you won't say who raped you. It happened in between the time that you left here, and the time you met up with Roger at school. Roger's been with you ever since. You were with your dad that whole entire time Mark."
I closed my eyes, a tear slipping out of my eyes. "He didn't," I whispered. "Can we please…I'm sorry but can we please not talk about this right now? Angel and Collins should be here any minute now."
"Alright," she said unwillingly. "How's your pain right now?"
"It's…okay," I said. Roger shook his head at me, telling me to tell the truth. "Well…it kind of hurts a lot."
"I'm going to get you some pain medication then," she got up, heading to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen.
I slid down a bit in Roger's lap, resting my hand on his chest and my head right next to it, yawning quietly.
"Do you know how adorable you are when you yawn?" Roger asked, rubbing my hip.
"Do you know how bad you make me blush?" I shot back, grinning up at him. I loved his little touches, his caresses. It was very calming.
Carrie laughed as she listened to us. She brought over a glass of water and two pills, which I quickly downed.
"What Mom? It's true, he's so cute!" He kissed the top of my head. "He looks like a tired little puppy."
I giggled, looking up to him. "Woof!" I mischievously grinned, and licked his cheek.
Roger scrunched up his nose in a laugh, and started petting my head. "Good boy, good boy!"
I leaned into his hand, and started purring, trying not to laugh.
"I thought you were a puppy!" Roger was laughing uncontrollably, and Carrie was trying to hold back her laughter as she watched us.
"Well now I'm a kitty!" I rubbed up against him, purring again. I pawed at his chest, licking him again. "Yummy."
Roger grabbed me in a hug, and laid me down on my back on the couch. He placed my legs over his lap and proceeded to rub my belly, cooing at me as if I really was a puppy or a kitty.
I closed my eyes, in bliss, my lips slightly parted. While my eyes were still closed and lips still parted, I felt Roger's lips, slowly and lovingly pressing against mine, resting there for a moment. I savored Roger's kiss, so much so that I didn't notice the voices outside the door until it opened to reveal Jessie, just coming in from school, leading Collins and Angel in.
I was disappointed when Roger pulled back from the kiss, and I sat up, smiling shyly. Angel giggled at us, waggling her eyebrows, which made me blush. I grinned up at Angel, a flush on my cheeks from the lovely kiss. I pecked Roger another small kiss, and quietly purred in his ear.
"Mark my little kittycat," Roger scooped me into his lap again, gesturing Angel and Collins to sit next to us.
"Meow," I giggled, happy just to sit on Roger's lap.
"So somewhere in between the time I left and now, Mark has turned into a gato?" Angel laughed.
"First a puppy. Now I'm a…I'm a cat-dog!" I burst out, looking up at Roger who gazed adoringly at me.
Okay, so I admit I was acting a bit foolish. But it's these little stupid moments, acting like a child that kept me going. I never got to act like a child when I was one, so now that I'm older, it just…it makes me feel good, and Roger plays along as well. He knows it helps me. When we were both little, the only times I would get to play was when I was with him, and I actually didn't know how to. He was the one that taught me to be like this. I act like a child because I never really was one.
Collins chuckled. "Missed you today Mark," he said softly. His eyes held an apologetic look; I think he realized that he upset me a lot. But…I guess he didn't really have a choice. He just wanted me to be safe.
I half smiled. "Yeah it was weird to stay home from school. It was cool though, Angel made it awesome," I brightened, turning to Angel. "I still can't get over how good my nails look!"
"Gracias, miel," Angel smiled at me.
"De nada," I replied. Two years of Spanish classes have paid off so far.
"I didn't know you spoke Spanish!" Angel exclaimed.
"Not much," I countered. "I've been in Spanish classes for two years now. I can hold basic conversations but that's about it."
"Talk to me in Spanish," he crossed his legs, eyes bright.
"Umm…Roger es mi novio. Se muy delicioso!" I giggled, kissing Roger's cheek.
"What did you say about me?" he asked mischievously, tickling my belly. I wiggled in his lap, my eyes sparkling.
"Nothing," I drew the word out, teasing him.
He started tickling me harder, almost mercilessly. "Tell me!" He grinned viciously.
Neither of us paid attention to the others, stuck in the moment. I leapt off of his lap, scooting around the coffee table and darting away. Roger was faster though, and he caught up with me, gently tackling me to the floor, making sure I didn't fall too hard. He straddled my waist, still tickling me. I tried to push him off, bucking my hips and doing everything I could to dislodge him. Finally, he fell off, and I rolled on top of him, pinning his wrists down and cheering.
"Gotcha," I said cheekily.
Roger looked up at me, breathing heavily, lips slightly parted, and looking absolutely lovable and kissable and huggable. He glanced over to the others, reminding me that we weren't alone. I blushed deeply, and nervously smiled.
"Marco, tu es muy comico," Angel giggled. Collins' eyebrows rose hilariously, and he smirked.
Roger pouted at me. "Why won't you tell me what you said?"
"Aww…baby don't pout…I um, said 'Roger is my boyfriend, he is very delicious'," Saying this made me a bit embarrassed, but hey, it was true.
"Mark honey, be careful…the doctor said not to do anything strenuous," Carrie warned me, and I heeded to her word.
"Oh yeah…sorry," I looked down.
"It's okay, I just don't want the pain to get worse," she said worriedly.
I nodded; I knew she was right, no matter how much I wanted to roll around on the floor with Roger. Wow…that sounds dirty. But…well, romping around with him made me giddy. I loved it…it made my belly tingle, and made me feel longing, yearning like no one else had ever invoked in me before. It scared me….a lot…but I couldn't get rid of this feeling. I couldn't understand it, couldn't make sense of the thoughts racing through my head.
The doorbell rang once again, interrupting my thoughts.
"Oh!" Carrie exclaimed. "I almost forgot that I ordered Chinese food on the way home." She got up and answered the door, Roger and I going to help carry things in.
Everyone headed into the kitchen, and we got plates and silverware and drinks handed out. Scooping food onto our plates, the smell making my mouth water, we began to eat. We made small talk, until the phone rang.
Carrie grabbed the phone, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
"Hello? Oh…um, give me two seconds…." She covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Um…Mark, it's….it's your father. Do you want to talk to him or not?"
I sighed, starting to shake. "I have to…" I wearily said; standing and slowly walking over to take the phone.
"Hi Dad," I said softly, dread filling my stomach.
"Mark Cohen, you imbecile! What the hell did you do?!" His voice was so loud; I had to turn down the volume on the phone so the others wouldn't hear.
"I'm sorry Dad…" I whispered.
"I can't believe this, how could you tell someone? You little…you wait till I get my hands on you!"
"I didn't!" I desperately told him. "I denied it. I denied everything. There was…a misunderstanding," as I said this I looked over my shoulder at the others, not wanting to give myself away. "Someone thought…thought I was doing something that would mean I was being hurt. I denied it. I told them it wasn't true."
A long sigh came from the other end of the phone. "You had better be grateful, boy. What's this about you having to go to the hospital because of a little blood? It wasn't that bad, you know that. You're just weak. It didn't hurt."
I closed my eyes, wrapping an arm around my stomach, getting that sick feeling again. "I'm sorry Sir," I whispered this again, though I knew it wouldn't do much good.
"You'd better be boy. I expect to see you tomorrow night, and don't take forever this time. I'll pick you up at six." With that, he hung up, not even saying 'good bye.'
I hung up the phone, going back to the table and slouching in my seat. I dejectedly picked at my food, and then, suddenly ravenous, finished everything on my plate. Everyone was silent, not knowing whether they should ask about the phone call.
"I'll be right back," I said softly, leaving the room and running upstairs. I made a quick stop in Roger's room, before shutting myself in the bathroom. I couldn't believe I had eaten that much, I'm so fat, I hate this! So I repeated what I did this morning.
I puked my guts out.
After doing this, I brushed my teeth and rinsed with mouthwash thoroughly, and then flipped the toilet seat down, sitting painfully. I pulled out of my pocket what I had gotten from my backpack in Roger's room.
Crying silently, I pulled up my sleeve, and cut into my skin. I was bad…so bad. I needed to be punished so I would know not to do it again. I did it once, twice, a third and fourth time. And then I let go. I slashed at my arm, over and over, not caring where or how deep or how big. I just cut. When the crazed look left my eyes and the fog in my head cleared, I looked down. My entire forearm was bloody and searing. Not an inch was left unmarked, and it still wasn't enough. I wanted…no, I needed more.
Moving my blade to the part of my arm that had a small sliver of skin that wasn't cut, I pressed down…hard. I dug the blade in, whimpering, and yet sighing from relief.
I washed off my arm, and wrapped it in toilet paper, putting pressure on it so it wouldn't bleed through my shirt. When I was satisfied, I checked myself over, deeming myself presentable, and went back downstairs.
At this point Collins and Angel were getting up to leave, with the excuse that Collins had a long day at the school. Angel came over to me, ever so gently hugging me, giving me time to pull back if I needed to. I hugged him back tightly, burying my face in his shirt for a moment.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Don't worry about it miel, let me know if you want to talk about anything," He murmured before pulling back from the embrace. He seemed to realize the words meant more than just staying with me today.
I hesitantly smiled, before going over to Collins, and with my head down for a minute, I threw away my precautions and put my arms around him. He bent down a bit to be closer to my level, and gave me a huge and yet gentle bear hug.
"See you in school tomorrow Mark?" He asked, and I nodded. "I want my favorite student back!" He grinned, teeth glowing, and chuckled.
I let a small smile come to my face, hopeful in a way. Collins rubbed my shoulder a moment, and stood.
"Bye everyone!" They called out on their way to the door, and we all bid them good night as the door closed behind them.
I turned to Roger, who had a funny look on his face. Curious, I cocked my head to the side.
He told his mom that we were going to hang out up in his room, and I followed him up. We both sat on the bed facing each other, with our knees touching.
"Baby…I want you to tell me the truth, what were you doing when you went upstairs?" His voice portrayed deep concern.
"I, nothing, I was just going to the bathroom," I stuttered, trying to make myself look innocent.
He reached forward, tugging me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, and I gasped from a sudden, sharp pain.
"What's wrong?" He asked frantically, pulling away. "Did I hurt you? What hurts baby?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breathing slowing back down to normal. "I…I uh, it's nothing…"
Roger firmly and carefully grabbed my arm, which I was holding very carefully away from my body. I shook my head, "No Roger…I, there's nothing wrong…."
He looked to me with a doubting glance. "Then there should be no problem with letting me look, right?" He pulled my sleeve up, trying not to hurt me. Pulling the toilet paper away from my arm, he looked to me with tears in his eyes. "Mark…"
I closed my eyes, ashamed as I looked away. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
Sighing, he furrowed his eyebrows. "This one looks really deep Mark…maybe I should try to help you wash it out or something," he looked at me, trying to judge my reaction.
"I-" I was cut off by a knock on the door, and then the door opening. I tried to put my arm out of sight, but I wasn't quick enough.
"Mark!" Carrie gasped, in shock. She scurried over, carefully grasping my arm. A look of apprehension on her face, she exchanged a glance with Roger. "Come here hon, I'm going to clean that up."
She briskly led me into the bathroom, Roger following closely behind. She sat me down on the toilet seat, face stony. I could see in her eyes though….tears were forming as she ran warm water, getting a clean cloth and a bottle of peroxide. Soaking and squeezing out the cloth in the water, she lightly scrubbed my arm, getting the dried blood off. She followed that up with cotton balls dipped in the peroxide, which she warned me would sting.
"I know," I whispered. I used this stuff when I got cuts from dealing with Dad…I hated it, but it was better than getting infections. She dabbed it on, while I bit my lip against the pain, holding my breath.
Getting out gauze and medical tape, she wrapped up my arm.
"Boys we need to have a talk," she said, her voice wavering.
I bit my nail nervously, jiggling my leg on hyper drive as we went into Roger's bedroom again. She closed the door, sitting on the bed and facing the both of us, who sat side by side near the top of the bed.
"Mark love, you know how much Roger and I both care about you. We love and adore you so much. That's why we need to talk about this, although it may be hard for you, I need you to talk to me."
I nodded slowly, unable to look her in the eyes.
"How long have you been doing this Mark?" She reached a hand out, tilting my chin up.
I mumbled my answer softly, but at their confused looks, I realized they didn't hear me. "Um..it was somewhere around fourth or fifth grade that I started," I muttered this, very ashamed of this fact.
"Has your mom or dad ever found out?" She looked surprised. It was understandable though.
"No…well sort of but um, they didn't really acknowledge it?" I posed it as a question, unsure of how to explain. "My mom has seen them sometimes. But she just said she didn't have time for me to be acting so dramatic. And my dad…I don't know."
Carrie's eyebrows flew up. "She knew?" Carrie sputtered. "She knew and she never even looked for what you used…"
I nodded. "She didn't know the extent of it though; she only saw a couple little ones. It's not always this bad, only sometimes."
Carrie shook her head disbelievingly. "Mark honey, can you show me what you used?"
I hesitated before nodding, and taking the blade out of my pocket. I unwillingly handed it to her, gripping it for a second before letting it go.
"Thank you sweetheart," She murmured, inspecting the piece of metal. "Was this clean when you started using it?"
I shyly nodded. "It was brand new, I got it from the package," I said.
"Alright…and you have your vaccines, correct?" At my nod she sighed in relief. "Good. That means you don't need a tetanus shot. I'm going to talk to your mom tomorrow, and I'm not going to through this out yet because I want her to see what you've been using so she can get rid of anymore of them that your stepdad might have, or anything like that."
I tried not to tear up. My one source of relief…gone.
Roger was silent this whole time, and I realized he was crying softly, which was unlike him. I've never seen him cry except for when something was wrong with me…I couldn't believe he cared about me that much.
I wrapped my arms around him, kissing away his tears. "It's okay Roger," I whispered to him.
"No it's not!" he cried out. "I knew! I knew since yesterday, I should have watched you more closely, I should have told Mom or thought to take away your blade or something…"
"Don't…Roger, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really. It was out of stupidity, that was all. I'm sorry," I looked up anxiously.
Carrie reached a hand out to me and Roger, pulling us in close. "It's all going to be okay now," she murmured. "I love you guys."
Roger and I both put our heads on her shoulders, facing each other. "Love you too," we replied, in unison.
"While we're all sitting here talking, what happened with that phone call Mark?"
I squeezed my eyes shut. "I guess that lady talked to him. He gets mad when there are accusations."
She rubbed my arm gently, and Roger watched me. I felt like we were little again, and she was reading us a story.
"What else did he say?" She spoke softly.
"I have to go with him tomorrow night at six…" I choked up a little bit, but kept my composure.
Roger grabbed me in a hug, putting his face in my hair. Carrie looked down on me, her face full of fear for me.
"Mark honey please…just tell me that he did it and you never ever have to see him again," She said, voice full of desperation.
I shook my head. "He didn't," I clung to my story. I knew he would always find me, no matter what people did to try to stop him.
She tightened her grip on me. "Alright Mark…I almost forgot to tell you, your little sister is home now. I bumped into your mom while she was getting discharged."
"Oh...that's good," I mumbled. Sure I was glad she was home, I didn't want her to be in the hospital. But I did like being at Roger's every day.
I sighed, snuggling into Roger's embrace. Soon I found myself drifting off to sleep, and I barely remembered Carrie tucking us in and kissing us goodnight.
……………………………………………….
Fast forward to the night after this. I was gathering my stuff, and heading out to my Dad's car. I hopped in, averting my gaze.
At his greeting, I mumbled a reply, staring out the window. Then I looked at him. He seemed…not drunk. That was odd.
"So Mark, I thought we'd go out tonight, just you and me. We'll go to dinner and then we can go to the store, you can pick out anything you want, no matter what the price, okay?" He seemed almost…cheerful.
I was in shock. "I…really?" I asked hopefully, maybe he had decided that he should change his ways.
"Yeah. Anything you want. You have any ideas?"
A ton of things flew through my mind. But one stuck out. "Um…could I get a camera?"
"If that's what you want, then that's what you're going to get," my abnormally nice father drove us over to one of my favorite restaurants that I hadn't been to in years.
"Get anything on the menu Mark, tonight money is no obstacle." He had the waiter bring us to the nicest table in the place, ordering himself a (surprise!) iced tea. I got the same, with a wedge of lime.
"T-Thank you," I stuttered.
"You are welcome Mark," He replied, looking over the menu. "I think I'm going to get…filet mignon. What about you?"
I thought for a moment. "I'm not sure…um, I think I'll get…salad with charred salmon," I decided on this, hoping my stomach could handle it.
"Good choice," He nodded his approval, and the waiter came, and took our orders and menus.
"So Mark, how has school been? What's your favorite class this year?"
"Um…probably philosophy. It's really interesting, and the teacher is nice," I was startled that he was acting like this. The only time we talked about school was when he was beating me for getting less than an A.
"That's good, who are you learning about?" he actually seemed genuinely interested.
"Heidegger, Aristotle, Kierkegaard. Aristotle is probably my favorite right now. He has a philosophy that's actually based on a story that was passed down…it's about this culture, where every person was taken hostage at birth and tied to the wall of the cave. Their whole lives, all they saw was the cave walls and the shadows cast against it…that was what they were used to. One day, a man broke free. He escaped, learning and discovering all the amazing things that the real world had to offer…but he couldn't handle it. So he actually went back, begged for forgiveness, and was willingly chained to the wall for the rest of his life. It's basically saying that no matter how bad it is, you always go back to what you are used to," I rattled all this off easily. It was interesting to me…and I could prove it true, using myself as an example.
"That sounds interesting," my Dad nodded, looking around. His hands were a little shaky; I could tell he needed alcohol. At that moment though, our food came, distracting us both.
I looked at my plate, my eyes widening as I saw the sheer amount of food on it. I glanced up at my dad, wondering if he was really going to let me eat it. Normally he didn't let me eat anything.
He looked up from cutting into his steak. "Go ahead, what are you waiting for? It looks delicious."
I was amazed, and began to eat. We continued to do this in silence…until I had eaten the whole thing.
"I'll be right back Dad, I'm just going to use the bathroom," I slid out of the booth, going to the back of the restaurant, and into the men's room. Checking to make sure there was no one in there, I quickly washed my hands before locking myself in a stall. On the count of three, I emptied my stomach.
I strode quickly out of the restroom after washing my hands and rinsing my mouth.
As I came up the aisle, my dad was paying the bill. "You ready?" he asked, and not waiting for an answer, started to leave, with me following.
…………………………………….
The next morning, I arrived in school with a smile on my face. I met up with an anxious Roger, who threw his arms around me.
"I'm alright Roger, I'm great actually," I beamed up at him, pulling my new camera out of my bag. "Look! He got me a new camera, and he took me out to dinner. Then we sat and watched TV the rest of the night. Nothing happened!"
Roger raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Mark you know this might not last long," he hesitated in telling me this, not wanting to crush my hopes.
"No, it's okay now. He loves me, he said so," I was utterly convinced by this.
Roger kissed my head. "Let's talk later, okay?"
I nodded, and we walked into the school, going to our first class…health.
Sliding into seats directly next to each other, I realized we had Maureen in our class. For a moment I glared, but then it lessened. Nothing could ruin this day.
"Hey," I said, and gestured her over to sit next to me on my other side.
She did so. "You're not mad?"
I shrugged. "I was…still am kind of. But everything's okay now."
She brightened visibly. "Really? You told?"
"Nope, but things with my dad are better."
"Everyone take your seats and stop talking!" A strict, older female teacher barked at us. "I am Ms. Gadion, and I will be your health teacher. Today we are talking about violence and different types of abuse. Now who can tell me the three major points of the abuse cycle?"
I sighed. Everyone stayed quiet, until she finally made a cycle chart on the board. "First is the tension. The snapping, put downs, and verbal/emotional abuse are in this part of the cycle. Second is the storm. The physical and sexual abuse is included in here. Third, and certainly not the least, is the 'honeymoon' phase. The abuser will pretend everything is okay, will buy presents and be nice after the 'storm'."
Roger and Maureen both looked at me. I blushed and looked at my desk, refusing to believe it.
"There are quite a few types of abuse. Physical, sexual, and verbal are three of the main ones, but there is also financial and a few other types. Abuse can happen in any relationship, whether it be family, romantic, or friendship."
I drowned out the rest of her words, absentmindedly doodling on my hand. RD+MC, with a heart around it. Roger glanced down, and giggled silently at me. I sent him a little grin, signing 'I love you' to him. He mouthed it back to me.
So happy that I didn't care who saw, I took his hand. We interlocked fingers, and I squeezed it tightly.
The rest of the day went just the same way. I hardly paid attention in class, and by the end of the day, sprinted out to the front lawn to meet Roger at Carrie's car. "Hey Carrie!" I called to the front as I slid in beside Roger.
"Hey Mark, how's everything going?" she seemed astonished to see me in such a good mood.
"It's going great," I grinned, and scooted over, closer to Roger. He kissed me gently.
"Love you," he murmured.
"I love you too Roger," I leaned against his shoulder as Carrie drove me to my mom's house.
When we got there, I hugged and kissed Roger goodbye, and leaned forward to kiss Carrie's cheek. "Thanks for the ride!" I told her as I left the car, and went inside, where my mom and little sister were waiting for me.
"Marky!" a little voice squealed, and she jumped into my arms.
"Oof," I said, stumbling a bit. "You're getting big you little peanut."
She giggled, hugging my neck and giving me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"Hey mom," I cheerfully greeted her, hugging her and giving her a kiss. "I'm gonna go to Dad's tonight, I'll call him to see what time, okay?"
She looked over at me. "I'm shocked; usually you're trying to get out of going there."
"Yeah well…" I skirted around the question, picking up the phone.
"Hey dad," I said into the phone as he answered. "Can I come over tonight?"
"Of course. I can't talk though, work is horrendous, but I'll pick you up at about eight, okay?"
As I agreed, we said goodbye and hung up.
For the rest of the time until he was going to pick me up, I cleaned my room. I found some interesting things, too. Some of this stuff I had written years ago, it was interesting to read them again.
Once I finished that, I sighed impatiently. There was still a while left. So, I decided to call Roger. I took the phone into my room, closing the door and flopping on the bed. I giggled happily when he answered.
"Hey baby," I cooed, rolling onto my back with my legs crossed and one foot in the air.
"Hey lovey, what are you up to?"
"Not much, just waiting for my dad to pick me up. I was bored so I decided to call."
His tone changed noticeably. "You're going there again tonight?"
"Yeah, I can't wait," I said excitedly. I think that's the first time I've said that about going to Dad's without sarcasm. "Oh! I just heard his car horn! I have to go baby, I love you!"
"Love you too…be careful tonight…"
"Okay Roger, see you tomorrow," I blew a kiss into the phone as I hung up. Tacky, I know, but….
I ran down the stairs, calling out my goodbyes to my mom and sister.
I beamed at my Dad as I got into the car, but it slid right off my face as I saw his expression and smelled the alcohol on his breath.
"I just had about the shittiest day of work ever boy," The large man growled. I cowered back. I thought this was over!
When we arrived at his house I slunk inside, waiting for instructions on what to do next. I didn't get them.
He threw his bag down on the couch and turned, so quickly that I didn't know what was coming when he smacked me. I lurched backwards, falling into the ledge above the fireplace. A glass frame shattered against my weight, and I cried out as glass rained down upon my back and sides.
I fell backwards onto the cold stone of the fireplace, my breath taken away both by the glass digging into my torso and the booted foot raining pain down on me.
"You stupid, insolent child! Ugly, good for nothing bastard, you whore! You're nothing but a fat, disgusting whore!" He screamed these things and different versions of these at me. I cried, full out sobbed. I had gotten worse than this before, but getting my hopes up and then having them all come crashing down….that made it even worse.
He shoved me into my bedroom, and I cried, begging him, literally begging him for mercy. "No daddy! No, please Daddy, please don't!" I pleaded with him, though knowing it would do no good.
He threw me onto the bed, pinning my arms down as I struggled. I did everything I could to get away, but my efforts were worthless. I was weak from not eating and throwing up. I was so much smaller than him; it just didn't have a point to try to get away. Eventually I gave up, which scared me even more. I just laid there, laid there and just breathe…just breathe…don't think just breathe, don't feel just breathe…don't speak don't hear don't smell don't see just breathe…I was hoping it would be over more quickly that way. But no.
He just kept going…and going…and going….he ripped and tore me open, leaving me naked and vulnerable, open to the world for humiliation and pain. And then he left.
And I cried, and cried, and cried. Eventually I went out to the living room to stealthily get the cordless phone, bringing it back to my room. I still couldn't stop crying, and I didn't even realize how late it was when I dialed Roger's number.
Carrie sleepily answered. "Hello?" She yawned as she spoke.
"C-Carrie?" my tears choked up my voice. "I-Is R-Roger there?"
She seemed instantly alert. "Yes Mark, hold on one second."
I rocked back and forth on my bed, why couldn't I stop crying?
"Mark?!" a frantic voice asked. "Mark baby, I'm here, what's wrong baby?"
"H-He…" I whimpered, terrified. "It…It hurts Roger…."
"I know sweetie…I know love…what can I do? Do you want me to come get you?"
"N-No," I said, sniffling. "I'm just scared…can you just talk to me? I just need…just need you."
"Of course, whatever you want baby. How about I sing to you till you fall asleep?" his voice was so gentle and kind.
"M…M'kay," I murmured.
"Fly,
fly little wing
Fly beyond imagining
The softest cloud, the
whitest dove
Upon the wind of heaven's love
Past the planets
and the stars
Leave this lonely world of ours
Escape the sorrow
and the pain
And fly again
Fly, fly precious one
Your
endless journey has begun
Take your gentle happiness
Far too
beautiful for this
Cross over to the other shore
There is peace
forevermore
But hold this mem'ry bittersweet
Until we meet"
He kept singing, until finally, at last, I drifted off to sleep, the
phone still held between my ear and shoulder.
