The Break-In
(Day 110: Thursday Afternoon)
"So, I was meaning to ask," Doug comments from behind the laptop. "How was that person Fairy Godmother has helping you?"
Ben lifts a shoulder, "Nice, I guess. Some girl who knows stuff and can be nice."
"Girl?" Doug questions. "Is she like another student or something?"
Ben wets his lips, "Girl as in… female. She's in her late twenties or something."
"Oh," he laughs. "So, the word for that is woman."
Ben narrows his eyes in annoyance, "Girls are girls. It doesn't matter."
"No," Doug slowly says in unsureness. "There's a difference between a six-year-old and a twenty-something-year-old."
"Yeah," he widens his eyes. "A six-year-old is a little girl."
"Just saying," Doug continues on. "As king, you should probably use words as they mean. It's fine right now, but are you still going to call women girls when you're in your thirties? What if you date someone?"
"I am dating someone," Ben points out.
"Really?" he counters. "It doesn't look like it. With how you've been, Mal could be with someone else right now." Ben looks away, and Doug watches as he stands from the table and towards the mini fridge. "No. Ben," Doug hopelessly says, and his words speed up as Ben gets closer to the fridge, "I didn't mean it like that. Just don't. Please."
Ben kneels down and reaches for a few Diet Cokes, but then there's a sudden banging coming from the door. He stands back up and shuts the fridge, meeting Doug's eyes for a moment, before he heads to the door. Ben twists the main lock to open the door, and when it opens he sees his father's tall stature, piercing blue eyes, and furrowed brows. "You traitor." His father pushes on the door, and Ben stands still with his mouth gaped as he hears the chain tug. "We've done everything for you, you ungrateful brat, and you do this to us? Us!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ben quietly states.
"That fairy," his father yells, and when he pushes at the door again Ben takes a step back. "You told her we didn't take care of you. How dare you." He narrows his eyes, "I've given you everything. Everything!" Ben takes another step back, as his father pushes against the door again and he notices the chain begin to pull out of the wall. "You took everything from me!"
"Father," Ben tries to reason, and he can feel the tears intrude his eyes.
"That was your plan all along, wasn't it?" is father says, before he pushes against the door a final time and the chain swings down from the wall. He steps inside, "You think I'm nothing. That you're better. That you can take anything you want."
When he steps forward Ben takes a step back, "Dad."
His father strides toward him, and Ben feels the curtains as he backs against the window. "You thought you could take everything, that you could take her?" He grits his teeth, "You're wrong."
When he grabs Ben's arms he winces, and Doug hollers, "Hey."
His father turns toward Doug, and Ben yells, "Stay out." before his father's attention is brought back to him.
He presses his left forefinger against his chest twice, "You are disgusting and disrespectful, thinking you can take her from me."
"What?" Ben begins in confusion.
"Your mother," he shouts. "You want her, and you want to take her from me."
"She's my mother," Ben disbelieves.
"Like that's ever mattered to you."
"Okay. Look." Ben eyes shift from place to place, "I know she's yours."
"You're exactly right," his father affirms. "She is." He leans in, "And if I ever see you touch her like that again, you will have it coming."
Ben recalls how he had touched her curly hair, and he wets his lips, "Yes, Father."
He lets go of him, "You best remember that." before he turns around to leave.
After he's out the door Doug sees the tears on Ben's face, "Are you okay?"
He reaches for his left shoulder, "My arm. It—" but his words are cut off as he sees the guy with brown hair holding up his phone in complete shock. "Did you video that?"
Ben wipes the tears from his face before he enters the hall and takes the phone from him, but just as he presses the delete button Doug urgently comments, "Ben. That's proof."
Ben meets his green eyes, "You can't prove something that didn't happen." before he presses yes to confirm the deletion of the recording. He shoves the phone to Brendan's chest, "Next time. Don't."
The tourney player continues to frown, "You expect this to happen again?" and Ben's frown deepens in realization before he glances around the small crowd.
He takes a step back, and Aziz questions, "Ben?" before he hurries down the hall to get away from them.
Later that afternoon Coach Jenkins walks through the humid rain, and when he finds Ben under the bleachers he walks toward him and squats down, "Ben?" His eyes are closed, "Ben?" but when he touches his right shoulder his eyes tiredly open. "We've been looking for you."
Ben feels the pain and reaches for his left shoulder, "Leave me."
"It's raining," the coach opposes. "We have to get you inside." Ben doesn't speak, merely shutting his eyes again, and the coach brings the back of his hand to Ben's forehead. "You're burning up." He doesn't respond, so Jenkins touches his shoulder again, "Ben. Did you hear me? I said you have a fever."
"I don't care," Ben whispers. "Leave me."
"I'm not doing that," the coach asserts. "You have two options here. One. You can walk inside with me. Or two. I can get the guys to carry you inside." Ben inwardly groans before placing his hand on the ground, but he's too weak to get up himself. Coach Jenkins stands up and stretches out his hand, before Ben takes it and manages to stand himself; however, it's then Ben places his hand on the brick building for support, and he turns to lean his head against the cold surface. It takes a minute for the coach to comment, "Ben. I know this has to be hard for you, but you really need to come with me.
Ben nods, "Okay." but he still keeps his hand on the brick as they walk.
When they get inside Jenkins guides Ben into his office, and after they sit down the coach pulls a bottle of ibuprofen from a drawer of his desk. He takes out three pills for Ben, before he offers them to him along with some water from the cooler, "Here." Ben stares at them, but he doesn't speak or move. "Ben. I know you don't want to get put in the hospital again." With that, Ben sighs and reaches for the medicine. It takes him a minute to get them down, but when he's finished the coach mentions, "Some of the players said they saw your father." Ben's mouth slightly gapes as he meets his black eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" Ben shakes his head, and then the coach nods. "Then let me." He hesitates, "Your father was an angry king who ruled with an iron fist. Figuratively speaking." He pauses. "He needed to control everything, and that's what he did."
"Control," Ben repeats the word, unable to recall its exact meaning.
"He liked to have his way," the coach rephrases. "He needed to feel in charge."
"But he was in charge," Ben quietly comments.
"For some people," Jenkins explains, "that's not enough. Some people feel like they're not enough or that other people don't like them. It makes them grab power, and it's those same people who have the hardest time letting it go."
"You act like you know him."
"In a way," the coach frowns. "I know his type. And I know how that type of person can affect the people closest to them." Ben looks away. "I know things are hard for you, but this is your life. Not his. You don't have to do everything he tells you to."
When Ben faces him he counters, "You're wrong. My life is his." before he looks away again. "And he can do what he wants to me."
"Ben," Jenkins intervenes. "I would like to help."
Ben frowns at him, "There's nothing you can do." and he sees him about to speak. "Please. Don't." He lets out a long breath as his eyes shut for a moment, "I'm tired… Really, really tired. I just want to sleep."
"Okay," the coach accepts. "How about I walk you to your dorm, make sure you get there okay?" Ben nods, and it's quiet as they exit the office.
- DeathCrawler Lol. Disturbing. I must be doing something right, then. You know what they say: you're not a good writer unless you can make your audience cry, which I'm proud to say I have before... might have been a different fic, though. I do wish you could have specified what was disturbing, though, so that I could interpret whether it was too much or not or just plain necessary. Unless, of course, you were referring to everything I posted that night, in which case your statement is accurate and I wouldn't blame you at all. I deal with dark stuff. I know that, but believe me when I say a few fics from now the story is going to get a lot darker.
-Posted: 12/03/2018