The Religious & The Damaged (UNDER EDITING)

28

Joseph

I hug Elias outside of his apartment—it's the morning after I spent the night with him.
His grasp tightens around me, and I return the gesture.
I appreciate the moment as much as I can because I know what awaits me at home.
He leans back. "Thank you for staying." He says.
I nod. "You're welcome." I reply. "I'll see you Monday."
He smiles in response, and I turn and walk towards the door leading to the stairs, and I descend them to the lobby.

When I get home, I walk through the front door and immediately, I'm pushed into the wall—head first, and my father's piercing voice follows.
He says, "You ingrate." His voice is harsh; it's chilling.
I let out a shaky breath, and I quickly realize that I'm crying—fear washes over me.
"S-Sir-" It's hard to speak. My head is pounding from how hard I hit it against the wall, it's hard not to pass out.
His hand wraps around my arm and he tugs me out of the room. I stumble as I struggle to keep up with his speed. I shut my eyes tightly—in hope that this is all just a nightmare and I'll wake up, but I don't. This is my reality.
I wince under his harsh hold and flinch as he slams open the closet door just out of the kitchen. He shoves me in, and I fall to the floor—my hands catching my fall.
"I don't ask much from you." He barks, and I sit up slowly, but he kicks me back down and I yelp as I feel the infliction on my ribs. "You disobey me time after time again." He speaks through his teeth as he sends another kick to my side; it's much harder than the last.
I try not to react, but it's hard—I hold my side as tears force themselves from my eyes. He tugs me to sit up, and I hear his belt unbuckle.
"How many times do I have to punish you to get it through your thick skull?"
My lips press tightly together as shaky, harsh breaths escape through my nose and tears flow down my face—it stings. My face feels hot. My heart aches at his never ending insults.
"Your mother never learned either, but I'll make sure that you learn, no matter.." I wince at the sudden swing of the belt. "How many times I have to punish you." He finishes.
I think back to Kelsey's words from yesterday morning: "You don't deserve that, Seph."
I don't deserve it.
He hits me again.
I don't deserve it.
Again.
I don't deserve it. I don't want to live like this anymore; I just want to live. I don't deserve it.
I wince at each passing whip, and I can feel as the warm sensation of blood falls down my back.
He's calling me things like: A disappointment and waste of space, but I just try to think back to those four words, over and over again.
I don't deserve it.
My hands clutch onto my pants, and I feel the tears drop onto my hands with such gentleness.
I think of it as Elias, and he takes my hand into his and tells me that everything will be okay; that everything will get better, easier. I'll open my eyes and he'll be there—that perfect smile on his face reassuring me that he speaks the truth, and I'll be happy.
But when I open my eyes, I'm face to face with darkness; it's cold, lonely.
I roll onto my back and I'm overcome with excruciating pain, and I groan out as my hand instinctively reaches around to hold my side.
I expected that'd be the time my father comes in and tells me to leave, but he doesn't.
I struggle to my feet, and once I'm up, it feels like I can't breathe; it completely takes my breath away to stand up straight. It hurts.
I wince with each passing step, and it takes me at least five minutes to get to the door across the way. I stumble out of the closet and up the stairs. Once I'm in the bathroom, I stand in front of the mirror and lift my shirt—my hands shake greatly. My heart drops at the sight of my body.
My whole left side is covered in bruises. I don't even want to imagine what my back looks like.
I drop my shirt and it falls against my skin, and I go to my bedroom.
I don't dare attempt to shower; I don't think I can stand much longer. It hurts to just breathe.
I lay in bed—my back completely against the mattress as I try not to let out the cry that so desperately wants to escape, but despite my best efforts, it still slips out.
I can't think of anything but the pain.
A shaky breath slips from my nose and tears fall down the sides of my face as I take my phone from my front pocket, and my hand shakes greatly as I hold it. I play: Francis Forever, and my eyes shut as my hand falls to my side, and I think of Elias and all the possibilities of his love for this song.
I wonder if he thinks of me when he plays this song, like I do with him. Then I think of last night—he likes me back. These lyrics; they remind me of myself and of me with him—how helpless I am without him and how I think too much when I'm with him. He told me he'd wait, but am I really worth it? I can't possibly be what he deserves—I'm messed up. No. I'm fucked up.
Forgive me, God.
I don't know what to do.

It's Sunday. I'm standing close behind my father after the service as he talks to attendees. I feel my phone buzz against my leg, and I flinch. I turn my back to my father, so he doesn't see as I take it out. Kelsey text me.
Can you come outside? 11:45am.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and take a brief glance back at my father to make sure he's still distracted before I head out of the church, and immediately, I'm pulled to the side and I meet eyes with Kelsey, who looks disturbed.
"Kel, what's-"
"Just stay here, please." Her voice is shaky and her gaze is directed downward now—her hand holds my sleeve tight.
I stare at her with worry.
I try to examine her body language to indicate what's wrong, but it's obvious; she's not only disturbed, she's scared. But of what, I wonder. It's almost like she's using my body to shield herself from the sight of somebody else.
I don't move, nonetheless. Someone passes by in my peripheral vision, and I glance over. It's her father, and he's looking back at us with contempt. My gaze reverts back over to Kelsey as she looks back, and she looks down and sighs shakily, but she still holds onto my sleeve.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concern heavy in my voice.
She takes in a breath and nods. "I'm okay now."
"What was that about? Why are you avoiding your father?"
She finally meets my gaze, and she looks scared of my question, but it's subtle.
She says, "He's just not the person you want to be around."
I furrow my brows. "What does that mean?" I question, and she looks away.
"Can we just get some lunch or something? I'm starving." She deflects.
I want to know more. It worries me when she gets distant like this because it rarely ever happens—in fact I think this is the first time. But I don't want to push it because I know how bad that feels.
I nod and place a hand on her back. "Yeah. Come on." I speak softly.
She leans into me as I walk down the pavement, and I hold her close to me.
I tell myself: she'll open up when she's ready to, and I trust that.
"So," She looks back at me. "You stayed the night at Elias'." She states, her expression completely different—she looks amused now.
I sigh. "It was surreal, Kel. He told me he'd wait for me." I say.
"Wait, you had another moment with Elias?"
"We almost kissed twice." She scoffs. "And I told him I liked him after he told me he liked me."
She turns completely towards me—now walking backwards, and she grins. "Okay, so what's the problem? He likes you, Seph."
"My father for one."
She groans and turns back around. "No, Seph." She drags out, a sort of gentleness in her voice. I furrow my brows in response. She looks back at me. "When will you realize that your dad can't control your life? Seriously, you deserve to be happy." She says.
I look down. "I want to be happy."
"Then be with him." I open my mouth to speak, but she quickly interrupts me. "And no but's."
I look up, my expression fragile now as I say, "It's not that easy."
Her expression softens, and she stops. I stop. She steps close and takes my hand into hers, and I stare into her gentle gaze.
"Be honest, you're more scared of fucking up than you are of your dad, aren't you?"
She's right. I am. Elias means a whole lot more to me than I realized, and if I was to mess up and hurt him—I don't think I could forgive myself. My father is just a fraction of that fear.
"Seph, look at me." I look up with great hesitation, and it feels as if my fragility has grown ten times in the last few seconds. She smiles softly and takes my face into her hand. "You aren't the fuck up your father has made you out to be, okay? You're not a disappointment or a failure. You're strong." She claims. "Yes, you're damaged, but who isn't? The world is a messed up place, but you and Elias need each other to get through it. I think last night proves that."
It scares me how right she is. Without Elias, who knows where I'd be—without him I don't think Kelsey and I would've become friends.
I smile. "I need you too." I say, and she smiles too.
"And I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." She replies.
I know what I'm going to do.