Behind The Scenes

Seventh

WARNING: May be mentions of abuse, panic attacks, trauma, blood, etc. If you are sensitive to these topics, please don't read.

Lia POV:

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since I've last talked to Alex and I'm scared. The rest of our school trip continued normally. The whole class was talking about the possibility that Alex is really sick. Nobody bothered to ask us what happened. Nobody cared. Neither did I. The only thing I was concerned about was Alex's safety. Today was different.

I was sitting with Jane and Bryce when I heard my name called.

"Lia," a familiar voice yelled.

I looked over my shoulder. Mindy was running toward us pulling a hooded figure. It was Alex. He had a bruised cheek and his eyes were pink and puffy from crying. I pulled them both into a hug, Alex more than Mindy.

"Alex," Jane and Bryce chorused.

"Where have you been?" Bryce asked, trying not to sound curious.

"Home," Mindy said. "The teacher allowed Alex two weeks off of school to rest and gave me two weeks off to watch over him."

I looked over at Alex. He was drawing figure-8s with his foot.

"Alex," I said.

He looked up.

"What happened to you?"

Alex's eyes widened and he walked away.

"He's not ready to talk about it," Mindy said, watching Alex leave.

"I won't push him," I said, "but I need him to trust me."

"Oh, he does. You're all he talks about."

"Talks? Is that supposed to be a pun?"

"Nope," Mindy said, as she walked away.

I was confused. I decided it wasn't important. Jane went to her first class and Bryce and I headed to ours. We entered the class before realizing Alex wasn't there.

"I'll look for him," I said, handing my backpack to Bryce.

I sprinted down the hallway. Halfway down, I stopped. I tuned around and went to the closet I pulled Alex into three weeks ago. As I approached the door, I could hear someone crying. I pressed my ear to the door.

"Alex?"

I could hear shuffling. Something clicked and the door swung open. Alex looked horrible. He looked dizzy and he was shaking. I went into the room and hugged him. His eyes were red from him rubbing them and his nose had become a light pink.

"You okay?"

Alex looked down at the floor. Then, he locked eyes with me and shook his head.

"It's your bruises, right?"

He looked down and started to cry.

"Alex, I know you don't feel well but I need you to tell me what happened. I need to help you."

He shook his head and tried to get up. I held him down and made him look me in the eyes.

"Don't give me that I-don't-need-any-help-because-I-don't-want-to-be-a-bother-to-anyone crap anymore. You are going to tell me exactly what happened to you now," I said sternly, my confidence growing.

He broke eye contact and looked at the floor. Then, he held out his pink finger.

"Promise not to tell," he said.

He can speak.

"God . . . I thought . . . don't you . . . explain, please."

Alex motioned for me to sit down. Then, he began his story.

"The people I live with are not my parents. They're my foster parents. My real parents gave me up. We've had many foster parents. Some good, some bad. We've been living with our current ones for three years. They're the worst. They . . ."

Alex stopped. He took a deep breath and resumed talking.

"They abuse me."

He let out a shaky breath and looked around. I held his hand and nodded.

"They only hurt me. I would kill them if they hurt Mindy. She was the only thing that kept me sane before I met you, Bryce, and Jane."

"Can you tell me how they hurt you? I need to know."

"I think you already know."

He turned to look at me.

"Yeah, I do."

"These last two weeks have been the worst. My foster father drinks every night. When he's drunk, it's worse. He doesn't know when to stop. Sometimes, I've ended up in the hospital. Of course, he blames someone else for my scars."

"Has he ever . . . you know . . . gone past that?"

"No. I guess he's not as bad as some people."

I sat up.

"What do you mean? This man has been torturing you for three years. Plus, you said some of your other foster homes weren't good. You're nowhere near okay. You need help."

"I know."

He looked at the floor.

"Alex? How can you talk?"

"I've never stopped. I just don't like talking. People tell me to shut up too often."

I was angry.

"How can you stay there? You need to leave."

He raised his head. His eyes glinted.

"We have a plan. It isn't perfect, but it's pretty good. Mindy and I created it a couple years ago and got the final touches on it during our two weeks at home. We call it The Viper Plan."

"Viper? Like what Mindy told me?"

"Mindy told you what?"

"Two weeks ago."