AN: As the previous chapter took me so long (forgot to put it up here, did put it on dA) and this chapter was finished already I decided to put this up as well.

Reviews are much appreciated.

Characters belong to Square Enix, story belongs to me.
Inspiration from

"The other side isn't so green" and "Here at the other side" By Sammy-Dee.

Hope you enjoy!
~DSL

The evil behind two faces

Chapter 7

"High school's kickoff" by Axel Nakayama

In the last four years of elementary school, nothing changed, really. My parents got worse with time, which meant that the beatings got worse with time as well. Demyx remained my only friend, the bullies at school kept bullying me, the teachers stopped asking questions, they believed my mother's stories about my failing balance, immune-system or whatever she came up with.

In the last year of elementary school they made us look at different high schools, to see which ones we liked and which ones we disliked. I didn't like one in particular, but didn't dislike one in particular either. Any high school would do the trick for me. The only thing that mattered to me was wether Demyx liked them or not. I was dying to go to the same high school as he. When the teachers told us that we would do fine when high school would take us six years, we were relieved, I guess. After six years of high school, I'd be nineteen, which meant that I could move out, go to college somewhere and make something of my life. In the end Demyx decided that one close to our elementary school would do the trick for him, and so it would do the trick for me as well.

High school kicked off with all the new kids going on a trip for five days to get to know each other. Those five days were pretty awesome, most of the kids were pretty nice, although some of the bullies went to the same school as we did. Demyx and I got closer and closer those five days and even though some of the other kids tried to get to know us better, we mainly sticked to each other and let the others be.

While at the camp, Demyx told me why he didn't have a father. It appeared that his father had left his mother and him when he was two years old, about half a year before we met. The man had left his mother for some gipsy girl that was younger and apperantly nicer and hotter or whatever. Demyx had no memories of his father whatsoever and never saw the man again. He and his mom moved to our city to get away from the memories that haunted the one they had lived in before and because the house became too expensive.

The day I got home from those five days was pretty awful. My father had had lots of trouble at work and almost got fired. Without me around to beat and rape to ease the stress, the tension in the house was almost unbearable. That night I took the worst beating so far, which had me ending up in the hospital and not leaving for a week and a half. Demyx was with me every day, the hours he could after school. He brought me homework and postcards from the kids in our class. To get through the hours until Demyx came, I did the homework and even tried to make some more, just so I didn't get too bored. My parents hardly visited, something the nurses noticed. They stopped by more often after that, to keep me company for a while. I don't even remember what my parents told them that happened to me.

I missed the first two weeks of high school because of this. When I got home, my father's job had gotten a little less stressed and he was a little nicer. Didn't want to lose his fuck toy, I guess. He still raped me that night, happy to have me back in the house, so he could get his release. He didn't have to beat me senseless first, I was still pretty stoned because of all the medicines the hospital had given me. When I woke up though, the medicines had worn off and I felt sore to the core of my being. I couldn't make it down the stairs, so I remained in my room all day. When my mother came home, she called our worried teacher back, telling her that I was still pretty weak from the hospital and that we'd have to see when I was strong enough to go back to school again.

During the first year of high school I started to dislike people touching me. This dislike got worse and worse, and with time I started to flinch away when people tried to touch me, and was afraid that they'd touch me whenever I didn't pay attention.

Demyx was the only one who could touch me, because I had known him for such a long time, and he never meant to harm me. He couldn't hurt a fly, so he defenitely would not be able to hurt me. He has a bubbly personality, but knew he couldn't just jump-hug me whenever he wanted. He'd do that to anyone, really, but asked first when it came to me.

Demyx's house became my safe haven during the first year. Late at night, when my parents were asleep and I needed his company, I'd get out of the house and grab the spare key they kept under a flowerpot, so I could get into his house. He always kept a blanket and a pillow in his room, so that if I came, I could sleep there. At some point his mother bought a second bed, so I could sleep there if I wanted.

It felt wrong to me, to sleep in the bed there. I didn't even have a bed in my own room, just a mattress on the ground, and Demyx's mother had just bought me a bed. Demyx would know if I had slept there, because he would see the blanket would be folded on the pillow instead of a made bed, and the spare key on the kitchen counter. Most of the time he didn't wake up whenever I entered or left the room, which was a good thing if you asked me. He needed his rest more than I did. Early in the morning, before my parents could wake up, I'd get back home, so they wouldn't notice me missing.

In the same year, Demyx's mother began to take care of my wounds whenever they got too bad, she'd make sure I didn't get any infections or anything and would just be a mother to me. It didn't take me long to start calling her mom, something that would make her smile. I felt more at home in their house than anywhere else.