Alive

Explainations

TW: Child abuse, homophobia, implied self-harm

Remus tackles me in a hug as soon as I see him. I don't get a chance to fully look at him, instead, I get to look at the outside of his shirt, as my face is pressed into him, around his shoulders, me being shorter than him by a few inches.

"Are you okay? They haven't been doing anything too bad to you, have they?" He pulls away from me, a hand on each of my shoulders, looking down at me concernedly. Only now do I get to properly look at him. He looks tired. Worn out.

I can tell his Dad's been hitting him again.

He has bruises on his arms, in different shades of purple and blue, and a really big, hand-sized red mark imprinted into his right cheek, fading slightly but still visable. His elbows are badly grazed too.

I sigh, looking him up and down. Immediately, he jumps to defend himself, seeing my concern.
"It's not that bad, really, honestly."

I don't reply, just raising my eyebrows to look at him, asking for more of an explaination.

"Dad was expecting a promotion at work, but it went to one of his coworkers. Says I've been distracting him by being at home. If it makes you feel any better, he angrily told Roman to go to his room yesterday, so, he's not only upset at me."

Deep down, I think that he knows that isn't how it works, but I think he's choosing to pretend he doesn't.

We're in the same small-ish room that I spoke to my mum in yesterday. I wanted Zariah to come, but they were very adamant that it was one person per visitor.

The boy looks to the door of the room. "Anyway, enough about me. Fill me in."

"Well, I've got a f-few things. T-treatment wise, I've b-been okay," I start, sitting down on the edge of a small desk in the room.

He follows me, also sitting. "Okay, I really need a f-favor from you, Re."

"Shoot. What's up? You don't need me to hide any dead bodies or anything?" He smiles, bringing his legs up and crossing them infront of him.

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I explain to Remus about Zariah, and the whole story about her and Jan's sister. Then I tell him about how we realised Zariah's dad must've been behind the fire. When I tell him, Remus' eyes light up, with a new fire behind them that I don't think I've ever seen before.

This boy would do anything to know that Janus is safe.
"What can I do? You, presumably want me to do something, right? Yeah? What is it? I can do it, I don't care what they say about me at home, I want to help." He talks quickly and excitedly, moving his hands rapidly as he does.

"Well, I think, the best thing we c-could do is get you to go to this man's h-house, and try and record him con-confessing using one of those r-radios, or something."
Remus grimaces. "I'm not a very good actor, Vee."

"Please? I'm g-getting increasingly w-worried that it's our only hope."

"Do you know anything about him? Yaknow, stuff I could make him like me with. If he likes poetry, then, I like poetry. Not that I actually know anything about poetry."

I laugh slightly. "He's an accountant. I know that. And, Zariah gave me her address. You sure you're up for this?"

Remus' fingers tense, wrapped around the edge of the desk we're sitting on. He nods, hesitantly. "I'm up for it if it'll help Janny."

I immediately burst out laughing. "JANNY?!"
He laughs too. "Yes! Literally just his name with a 'y' o the end. That's like calling you Virgey, it's not weird!"

Still laughing, I look to him. "No, that's w-weird. N-never call me that." I reply lightheartedly.

Then, the door opens. The same red-headed nurse from earlier walks in. "Uh, sorry, visiting hours are over now."
The news doesn't even ruin our mood. We just jump off the desk, and are walked to the exit of the building.

Through the doors to the reception, I can see Remus' dad. He stands impatiently, looking down to his wristwatch. Remus spins on his heel, smiling cartoonishly. "Bye, Virgey!"

He walks away and greets his Dad. I watch as his body posture falls into a slightly more timid, submissive one, following his Dad out of the building.

I really hope he manages to pull this off. It's not that I doubt his acting, I'm just worried that even with evidance, we won't be believed.

Instead of being taken back to my room, it's time for one of my treatments. It isn't even really one. More of a school-like punishment.
"Right, in here, then." This is a larger room, with ten or twenty other kids. The lights are bright and intimidating, as the nurse pulls out a chair at an empty desk, and I sit in it.

The woman walks over to me, placing a typewritten sheet of paper infront of me. "100 lines, then you can go back to your room. Dr Lanson will check you've actually done it."

I glance down to the writng.
'I will not disrespect my elders. I will not stutter when I talk. I will not cry. I will not hurt myself. I will not feel attraction towards men.'

Seriously? Is this their idea of curing me? I grimace at the sheet of paper, all the while a tall man who is supervising the room walks over, placing a pot of ink and a quill on my desk, as well as two sheets of lined paper. "Well, get on with it then."

Part of me wants to punch this guy in the face and storm off. But the other part picks up the quill, dips it in the pot of ink and begins to write.

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1003 words

I don't usually do author's notes on this series, but I have been super slow with updates recently and just want to say sorry about that! I've been quite busy, but thank you so much for your continuous support, stay safe and I hope you all have a great new years!