The Worst of Times

Chapter 7

I was somewhat scared about what Mike would do when we ended up at Samantha's front door. He was clearly raging mad. I wish I hadn't told him about the whole Matt story.

He allowed himself in and I instantly heard the sickening sound of grunting. The commotion of bed squeaks and thumping echoed throughout the house and I felt like vomiting. Mike instantly went to Samantha's room and I trailed behind, unsure if I should stop him. He opened the door and I could hear Samantha's moans clearer now.

"Oh yes! Yes! Oh please," She groaned as the man thrusted into her. I wanted to gag but Mike decided the only way to get their attention was to break something. He took a nearby flowerpot and chucked it at the wall above the bed. Samantha screamed but relaxed when she saw it was us. The man didn't know although and rose, exposing all of his midsection.

"Cover up, man." Mike muttered and I squeezed my eyes to try and ignore it. The man put a pair of boxers on, a tent in his pants clearly made. He looked between us, his eyes landing on me.

"Who the hell are you? I know the smaller one, saw him in newspapers." The man said, somewhat calmly yet clearly irritated. Mike growled a little and sent a burning gaze at Samantha.

"I'm his boyfriend. I need to have a few words with Samantha." He snapped and she rolled her eyes. She was most likely drunk.

"Wait 'till we're done, yeah?" The man said, stepping towards us and attempting to get us out of the room but Mike held his ground. "Leave it alone now, punk, or I'll have to finish in your little boyfriend." He spat and Mike's hands clenched into fists before diving at the man.

I clenched my eyes shut as all I heard was the sounds of skin connecting harshly and arguing. I began shaking and backed away with my eyes shut.

I quickly opened the door and ran out of the room and into my own. I looked around quickly before going into my closet and closing the door. I sat on the bare floor and pressed my knees up to my chest and buried my face into them as my eyes remained closed and my hands covered my ears.

I continued shaking horribly and tried to make myself as small as possible as I remained hidden. I opened my eyes for a second, taking in the sight. It felt all too familiar.
-
I heard my father's drunken scrabbling outside the front door. It was obvious to me that he must've misplaced his keys. I knew this would give me some time to quickly hide, knowing what would happen if I didn't.

I raced upstairs, into my room, and closed myself in my closet. I panted from moving too quickly but my breath froze when I heard the front door bust open.

I'd never blame my dad for what he does. He doesn't mean it, he's just drunk. You usually have the angry drunk, the silly drunk, and the sexual drunk. My dad's a mix of all three and you never know what you're going to get. Around other people, he's the silly drunk but behind closed doors, his mindset is stuck between anger and sex.

Of course I'm the only living thing around my dad in private so I'm the one who gets hurt. I could always tell mom, get my dad locked away for what he's done, but I could never do that. He's just not right. I knew him and mom were having problems, it wasn't his fault. I knew I shouldn't have to suffer from him but it's just not his fault, it really isn't.

"Chazzy," My dad's voice sang when he opened the door to my bedroom. I hated that he still wouldn't call me by my first name, he only used nicknames when I was drunk but it was still better than 'son' or 'boy.'

I heard his heavy work boots walking around my bed, then the ruffling sounds from my sheets. I hid under my blankets last time because I couldn't get any further. Than it sounded like he was searching under the bed, where I hid the time before that. The only other place left to check is where I am. I felt my body begin to shake.

The door was ripped open and my father had a horribly angry look on his face and I let out a startled scream. He grabbed my wrist and hoisted me out of my closet. He tossed me onto my bed and I cowered to the corner.

"Dad, stop!" I cried out but he didn't listen as he hovered over me.
~
I snapped out of my memories with tears running down my face. I can't take all the pain I'm feeling inside. My dad's sexual assault towards me, my parent's divorce, the bullying, the rapes, more bullying, being a burden, the suicide attempts, drugs... So many problems. I find it impossible to solve all of them.

The closet door opened and I let out a startled cry as I thought about my memories but I calmed down when I saw it was just Mike. His lip was bleeding but that seemed to be the only thing hurt.

"Chazzy?" Mike said uncertainly and I crawled out of my spot and into his open arms. I began sobbing horribly. "You're okay, hush."

"Mike." I sobbed plainly and he rocked my body like he usually does.

"I got that guy out of here. I think I broke his nose." He chuckled and pulled me back so we could make eye contact. I gave him a shaky smile. "Let's go talk to Samantha, yeah?"

"Okay." I said softly and we left my room and headed towards the kitchen. Samantha had an empty water bottle next to her and some toast laid out on a plate, she was clearly trying to sober up.

She was barely dressed. A tank top and sweatpants covering her. She looked so tired. I hadn't quite talked to her much lately because of her irrational decisions and being stuck with John all the time but I regret that as she looked so full of grief.

"Chazzy," She murmured when Mike and I sat across from her. I made eye contact but then looked away. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine-"

"No, it's not fine!" Mine snapped, interrupting me. He gave Samantha a glare. "He was almost raped one time by one of your 'lovers.'"

"Wait, what?" She echoed, her head tilting, clearly confused.

"Do you not remember Matt?" I asked softly and her eyes lit with recognition.

"Oh, dear..." She trailed off and a blush crossed her cheeks. "Can't say I do."

"Doesn't surprise me since you sleep with a new guy every night!" I suddenly snapped, catching both Sam and Mike off guard.

"Calm down, honey. What happened?" She asked and I scowled but Mike thankfully took over for me.

"A man you were sleeping with tried to touch him and said one night of doing whatever he wanted to him for only one year in prison sounded worth it." He explained and Samantha's face fell.

"Oh, god." She gasped, concern wrapping her features. She broke down into tears and I suddenly felt horrible. It's not her fault, she was just drunk.

"Chester! What are you doing? She's the one who let him into your home!" Mike bellowed but I gave him a glare that hushed him from continuing to shout.

"It's not her fault." I said softly and he sighed, giving into my demand to forgive and hopefully forget.