nota bene- take careful note
"So what's going to happen to me?" Brian turned from where he stood, almost out the door, on his way back to work. Tyler fiddled with the crayons that he had taken from the children's area, which lay in his lap, on top of his sketchpad. He had been trying to sketch Brian, managing to barely hold the crayons but it didn't feel right. He'd have to make it feel right.
"Your father pleaded guilty to kidnapping you, to lessen his charges of child abuse. So, you're off the hook, a free citizen. Your father on the other hand is facing up to life, or several life sentences based on charges of child abuse, rape-" Tyler swallowed hard on that word and tried to make his lungs relax like the shrink had told him, showed him to, so he wouldn't have an anxiety attack. "Attempted homicide and possession of a weapon."
"No trial?"
"Nope. He pleaded guilty."
"So where am I staying?"
"Well right now Ty, you're here for another week- observation- you were really beat up, you had us all scared. But." Brian broke Tyler's glance and looked down for a moment, at Tyler's jeans draped across a chair for tomorrow. "Your uncle is coming out to get you in a few days. You're going to back to New York."
"What?! No, I can't, I can't go with him. I can't. I can't!" Tyler tried to make his throat stop constricting. Concentrate on your lungs, they need to breathe he thought. Then- screw your lungs. Screw breathing. Oh Christ. Him. Him. Him. He's coming. He'll kill me for what I did.
"Tyler the law doesn't have any reason not to let you go with him. If you would tell anyone, hell me Tyler! What the bastard did to you and it could be proved, even now, then you'd be in child services. But the only thing we've got is that you've got heavy scarring from being abused but you won't say where you got those scars! You have bite marks Tyler! Bite marks! .Tyler? Ty? Calm down ok? Breathe? You're all right. You're ok." Brian was walking across the room and to bend down and rub Tyler's back, the red T Shirt wrinkling under Brian's warm hand.
"I. I. please Brian, don't make me, please don't make me, I'll be good if you don't make me, I'll do anything you want, please, please don't make me go with him, please? Please? Please Brain please?" Tyler was wrapping his hands in his black pajama bottoms that he had been wearing every night- they were long enough to rub against the floor when he managed to get up on his own and walk to the bathroom.
"Tyler, calm down. Should I get a doctor?" Tyler shook his head no. He needed more than a doctor; he needed a place to hide. He needed the Everglades. He needed the Himalayas. He needed Everest, or to be at the bottom of Niagara Falls, with the water pounding him into the rocks, pounding him into someone else. Maybe a fish. He could be a fish. Or a rock. Just not, just not Tyler because fish ad rocks don't have uncles. Don't have uncles who- "Tyler, it's ok. All right? We'll fight to make them let you stay here but we can't do anything until you tell us what's happened to you, how you got your scars. OK?" Brian sat back down, on the corner of the bed and wrapped an arm around Tyler's shoulders, Tyler stiffening, and then blurting it all out. He would have to one day, right?
"He used to hit me. He'd hit my mom too, smack her around and say he deserved it cause she was crazy. He'd take her pills and hide them and then. beat me if I found them for her cause he loved having something to make her cry over, she'd get really upset. and then he'd act like there were plain sight all along saying she was stupid, she must not have wanted to take them, she must not want to be a good mom, she wasn't a good mom. Stuff like that."
"What else? When did he come live with you and your mom?"
"When I was five, my mom got put away into a hospital for a year. It was just my dad and me and after she got out, my dad left a couple weeks later. So my uncle moved in to help take care of me, and her. He used to smack me around but never really hard- just to show me a lesson or make me jump. And my dad used to hit me so I was used to being smacked up the head or shoved into walls when I didn't get out of the way or when they went through too much alcohol. An.
"After a couple months he. he start coming into my room late at night. He'd get into bed with me. It started with him jacking off next to me but then. he'd touch me, pretend that it was game, something everyone did. Say if my dad was around he'd do it too. Have me touch him, say he was just teaching me, showing me what grownups did. Said if I ever told anyone, he'd kill my mom, he'd hurt her, and it would be my fault. He said if I ever told her, she'd go away again and it'd be my fault and it would be just him and me.
"After like 3 month of him just touching he started to. he'd fuck me. I'd tell him I didn't want to, that it hurt, and he'd say that didn't matter. He'd say it was my fault he was doing it, that I had asked for it, that I wanted it. That I was a cocksucker, cause I sucked his cock, know? Calling me a faggot when I didn't even know what that was, but I believed him. Cause he was the adult, and adult are supposed to be the smart ones, the ones you're supposed to listen to.
"My mom went away for a month, when I was seven, almost eight. That's when it got really bad. He'd take photos or take all my clothes and make me walk around the house naked, then would call me disgusting. He could beat me about the face and neck and stuff, because it was the end of the summer. It was like he was raping me all the time and. I just. He would get into showers with me, or rape me twice in one night. My mom came back and for a while he let up, she was on new medication and he seemed really nice all the time but then he started again, worse than before, would carry me into his room and make sleep on his bed when he was done. And I couldn't tell her because she was happy and if I told her. And he'd beat me pretty bad too- with belts or wooden spoons, with a really hot pot once that he grabbed off the stove and then made me clean up the soup that spilled all over the floor, or he'd hit me with whatever was around, but so nobody could see it. Then when I was eight, he started hiding her pills again and I couldn't, couldn't take it, him being mean to her, her crying all the time. I shot him but he didn't die! If he had died then I could have told but he didn't so I ran and when they found me I couldn't tell! He'd kill her! And now she's dead. And. and."
"Ty, it's ok, it's ok." Tyler didn't know why Brian was hugging him, why he was rubbing his back, why Brian was shaking until Tyler realized he himself was shaking. And Brian was stable.
Tyler felt cold. Tyler felt dirty. Tyler really wanted to be a rock, or be under a rock that no one could lift, like a myth or a fairytale. That wouldn't be punishment- that'd be heaven.
"So what's going to happen to me?" Brian turned from where he stood, almost out the door, on his way back to work. Tyler fiddled with the crayons that he had taken from the children's area, which lay in his lap, on top of his sketchpad. He had been trying to sketch Brian, managing to barely hold the crayons but it didn't feel right. He'd have to make it feel right.
"Your father pleaded guilty to kidnapping you, to lessen his charges of child abuse. So, you're off the hook, a free citizen. Your father on the other hand is facing up to life, or several life sentences based on charges of child abuse, rape-" Tyler swallowed hard on that word and tried to make his lungs relax like the shrink had told him, showed him to, so he wouldn't have an anxiety attack. "Attempted homicide and possession of a weapon."
"No trial?"
"Nope. He pleaded guilty."
"So where am I staying?"
"Well right now Ty, you're here for another week- observation- you were really beat up, you had us all scared. But." Brian broke Tyler's glance and looked down for a moment, at Tyler's jeans draped across a chair for tomorrow. "Your uncle is coming out to get you in a few days. You're going to back to New York."
"What?! No, I can't, I can't go with him. I can't. I can't!" Tyler tried to make his throat stop constricting. Concentrate on your lungs, they need to breathe he thought. Then- screw your lungs. Screw breathing. Oh Christ. Him. Him. Him. He's coming. He'll kill me for what I did.
"Tyler the law doesn't have any reason not to let you go with him. If you would tell anyone, hell me Tyler! What the bastard did to you and it could be proved, even now, then you'd be in child services. But the only thing we've got is that you've got heavy scarring from being abused but you won't say where you got those scars! You have bite marks Tyler! Bite marks! .Tyler? Ty? Calm down ok? Breathe? You're all right. You're ok." Brian was walking across the room and to bend down and rub Tyler's back, the red T Shirt wrinkling under Brian's warm hand.
"I. I. please Brian, don't make me, please don't make me, I'll be good if you don't make me, I'll do anything you want, please, please don't make me go with him, please? Please? Please Brain please?" Tyler was wrapping his hands in his black pajama bottoms that he had been wearing every night- they were long enough to rub against the floor when he managed to get up on his own and walk to the bathroom.
"Tyler, calm down. Should I get a doctor?" Tyler shook his head no. He needed more than a doctor; he needed a place to hide. He needed the Everglades. He needed the Himalayas. He needed Everest, or to be at the bottom of Niagara Falls, with the water pounding him into the rocks, pounding him into someone else. Maybe a fish. He could be a fish. Or a rock. Just not, just not Tyler because fish ad rocks don't have uncles. Don't have uncles who- "Tyler, it's ok. All right? We'll fight to make them let you stay here but we can't do anything until you tell us what's happened to you, how you got your scars. OK?" Brian sat back down, on the corner of the bed and wrapped an arm around Tyler's shoulders, Tyler stiffening, and then blurting it all out. He would have to one day, right?
"He used to hit me. He'd hit my mom too, smack her around and say he deserved it cause she was crazy. He'd take her pills and hide them and then. beat me if I found them for her cause he loved having something to make her cry over, she'd get really upset. and then he'd act like there were plain sight all along saying she was stupid, she must not have wanted to take them, she must not want to be a good mom, she wasn't a good mom. Stuff like that."
"What else? When did he come live with you and your mom?"
"When I was five, my mom got put away into a hospital for a year. It was just my dad and me and after she got out, my dad left a couple weeks later. So my uncle moved in to help take care of me, and her. He used to smack me around but never really hard- just to show me a lesson or make me jump. And my dad used to hit me so I was used to being smacked up the head or shoved into walls when I didn't get out of the way or when they went through too much alcohol. An.
"After a couple months he. he start coming into my room late at night. He'd get into bed with me. It started with him jacking off next to me but then. he'd touch me, pretend that it was game, something everyone did. Say if my dad was around he'd do it too. Have me touch him, say he was just teaching me, showing me what grownups did. Said if I ever told anyone, he'd kill my mom, he'd hurt her, and it would be my fault. He said if I ever told her, she'd go away again and it'd be my fault and it would be just him and me.
"After like 3 month of him just touching he started to. he'd fuck me. I'd tell him I didn't want to, that it hurt, and he'd say that didn't matter. He'd say it was my fault he was doing it, that I had asked for it, that I wanted it. That I was a cocksucker, cause I sucked his cock, know? Calling me a faggot when I didn't even know what that was, but I believed him. Cause he was the adult, and adult are supposed to be the smart ones, the ones you're supposed to listen to.
"My mom went away for a month, when I was seven, almost eight. That's when it got really bad. He'd take photos or take all my clothes and make me walk around the house naked, then would call me disgusting. He could beat me about the face and neck and stuff, because it was the end of the summer. It was like he was raping me all the time and. I just. He would get into showers with me, or rape me twice in one night. My mom came back and for a while he let up, she was on new medication and he seemed really nice all the time but then he started again, worse than before, would carry me into his room and make sleep on his bed when he was done. And I couldn't tell her because she was happy and if I told her. And he'd beat me pretty bad too- with belts or wooden spoons, with a really hot pot once that he grabbed off the stove and then made me clean up the soup that spilled all over the floor, or he'd hit me with whatever was around, but so nobody could see it. Then when I was eight, he started hiding her pills again and I couldn't, couldn't take it, him being mean to her, her crying all the time. I shot him but he didn't die! If he had died then I could have told but he didn't so I ran and when they found me I couldn't tell! He'd kill her! And now she's dead. And. and."
"Ty, it's ok, it's ok." Tyler didn't know why Brian was hugging him, why he was rubbing his back, why Brian was shaking until Tyler realized he himself was shaking. And Brian was stable.
Tyler felt cold. Tyler felt dirty. Tyler really wanted to be a rock, or be under a rock that no one could lift, like a myth or a fairytale. That wouldn't be punishment- that'd be heaven.