God, Do You Love Me?

Broken

Travis:

I was thrown into my room. "You're never leaving this fucking house again." The door slammed behind him.

I couldn't move from the spot that I'd landed in. My body was so sore, broken. My nose had finally cleared up, though.

I was shaking, tears running down my cheeks silently.

And surprisingly enough, my father had gone easy on me. A new bruise on my eye, nose and mouth, 30 lashes with his belt, and a new carving into the skin on my stomach. This one says "Betrayer."

Had I betrayed my father for running away for a night? Maybe, but even if I did, I wouldn't care. I hate him. I wish he was dead.

I feared how he planned to punish me in the future for this fuck up. Maybe I really was never leaving the house again. Not like I could even if I was allowed to. My legs weren't broken, but they might as well be, because no other part of me could move either.

Eventually, I fell asleep. Right there on the floor. My mother didn't even come to say goodnight.

______

I could barely drag myself off the floor when my morning alarm went off. My body was so weak, it hurt to breathe, to move. I wanted to die.

I assumed I'd still be going to school, so I cleaned myself up the best I could and got dressed. I folded Sally's clothes and put them into my backpack. There was blood on the hoodie, but it would come out in the wash.
__

"You go to school and you come right back, boy. If you're not back by 3:30 I'll kill you."

This was the punishment. My dad knew that it took me about an hour walk home from school. I get off at 3, which means I'd have to run to get home by 3:30.

Clever bastard. He loves to torture me.

I didn't eat, I didn't say a word. I just left.

____

School was hard. I felt people staring at me as I struggled to move through the halls, my face half swollen, clutching my ribs. They were definitely broken, now. I went though most of the morning not seeing Sal, until before math class.

I didn't even care when Sally Face came up to me with other people around. I wanted him to talk to me, to ease the pain.

"Oh my god, Travis, what did he do to you?" He looked distressed.

"I'm alright Sal. It looks worse than it is."

"I don't know." He said, studying me. "You're in a lot of pain, man."

"I know... It'll pass."

"Fuck, Travis. You can't go back to that monster." Sal clenched his fists. "Ugh, I wish he was dead!"

"...me too..."

"I'm not letting you go back there, Trav."

"I don't want to go back there, but..."

I have to. He'd find me.

The bell rang, interrupting us. Sal gave me a sad look over his shoulder amd I followed him to math class. Our new teacher was already writing on the board rapidly.

When he was sure everyone was in class, he started talking. "Okay guys. I know your old teacher didn't do this kind of thing, but we're working on a project."

A project? In math class? How the hell does that even work?

"I know what you're thinking. How does a math project even work?" The math teacher said. He really did know what I was thinking. Damn. He keeps going. "You and a partner will group up and on a poster board, write down everything you can remember from school so far this year. That way, I'll know what you guys need to be taught, and what you already know..." He droned on about being creative and using stickers or whatever.

I was just thinking about how I wanted Sal to be my partner. I wanted to lay down on the floor with him and listen to him talk about anything, even math. Of course, that would mean I'd have to go to his house. And I don't think I can really do that.

"Okay, pick your partners and get started. Yeah, I'm the cool teacher, you can choose!" He was kind of pretentious, but oh well.

Sal was already at my desk. He jump scared me a little. "Wanna be my partner, Trav?"

His little nickname for me was so cute. "Uh-sure." I felt myself blushing, a lot.

"Okay. We can go to my house. Spend the weekend there."

"I-I don't know if I can do that."

"Don't tell me you're going back home, Travis..."

"I have to. He'll find me if I don't, call the police or something."

"He'd get the police involved, don't think they'd notice he beats you?"

"...th-they go to church..."

Sal looks like he knows more than he's saying. Instead of enlightening me, he pulls out a notebook. "I know you're struggling in math, so if there's anything I write down that you don't know, I'll help you with it later, okay?"

"Mmhmm."

Sal begins to write down a bunch of things from the curriculum, his handwriting really sloppy. Who taught him how to write? They failed him.

"Hey... Sal?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna write things down for the poster, okay?"