What Friends Are For [COMPLETE]

Life Sucks

Jonathan's POV

I had to go home eventually even though I never wanted to leave.

We walked all the way so I had to walk back.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with?"

"Yeah I'm sure." I knew my way back and these were peaceful enough neighborhoods. Plus I knew my dad would be home, so we couldn't do much there.

"Okay," he pecked me on my lips. Then off I went, back to my place called hell- uh- I mean home.

********************

When I got home I found my dad in the living room watching TV. A beer in his hand.

"Dad?" He took a gulp.

"What the Hell do you want?"

I could tell he was in a shitty mood so I decided to just go upstairs.

My foot landed on the first step, then he got up from the couch and looked at me.

"When I ask you a fucking question you better answer."

I was taken back by his harsh attitude. I mean, he's upset with me all the time, but now he's actually swearing at me.

"N-nevermind."

"Sooo, wanna here how my day was yesterday? Because you weren't fucking here for me to tell?" His words slurred, like he was drunk. He sat the beer bottle on the table so hard I thought I heard the bottle crack.

"Um sure..." I wasn't sure what to say.

Only then did I notice in front of the couch was at least six or seven bottles of beer.

The scary thing about it is,
My dad never drinks.

He came up real close to me. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack.

I could smell the beer in his breath. Stale, like he had been drinking all night.

"I had the worst fucking day of my life yesterday." Each word sounded like hatred faling off his tongue.

"I got fired, then, on the way back home, saw my son walking on the street with that Asian kid, when he should be in fucking school like his mother would of wanted."

Oh shit.

"Dad I can explain."

I took a step back, but each time he would take a step forward, eventually leading my back to the wall and his beer smelling breath in my face.

"Oh and the best part! You haven't even heard the best part!" Now he was yelling.

"I saw them kissing!"

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

"What the actual fuck?!" He turned his back to me and gave a histarical laugh.

"Dad, I-I was going to tell you bu-"

"Shut the fuck up." I didn't dare move from the wall.

He put his head in his hands and started to sniffle. I heard him mumble "Its all your fault."

"Dad?"

He wiped away his tears and turned to look at me again. Sadness had been replaced with anger.

"It's all your fault!" He shouted at me.

"My job, me failing, you being a fag! And your mother's death!"

The second I though it was done tears filled my eyes. My sobs could be heard through out the house.

But it wasn't over. He raised his hand at me, a fist formed and hit me in my face so hard from the side, that I fell.

Everything stopped once I realized what had happened. I heard my dad's breathing steady as I peered down at the floor. I was proped up on my elbows, watching my own tears fall. I didn't dare look at him. I didn't speak to him or even glance. I just got up and walked up the stairs straight to my room.

I packed my stuff for school, a tooth brush, some clothes and a pillow and blanket.

I walked back down the stairs. Tears dried on my face. I had a straight face showing no emotion whatsoever.

My dad was still in the same spot as before watching my every move.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going-"

I didn't let him finish. I slamed the door behind me and headed for the closest friends house to me. Wildcat's. I slipped on my mask. I knew he would question me, but I also know that I can tell him everything and he won't judge me because he is one of my absolute best friends. And I really needed to talk.

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Wildcats POV (bet you didn't see that coming, did ya ;)

I couldn't believe what Jonathan just told me.

He told me EVERYTHING. I mean all of it. About Evan, his dad, his guilt for his mom, he even took off his mask. I felt so bad for him. I watched as he sobbed on my couch. Both of my parents work till like three in the morning so no one was home except for me.

"Jonathan, none of that shit was your fault."

He looked up at me. His sad eyes were killing me on the inside. I'm not even a real sensitive person, but damn it made me feel horrible.

I sat next to him and gave him the most passionate hug I could give.

He hugged back. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"What the fuck are you sorry for?"

"For bothering you with all of this-"

I pulled him back from the hug.

"Dumbass, just shut up and let me make you some hot chocolate or some shit."

He gave me a weak smile. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem. Oh and you gotta sleep in the bed with me. It might be wierd if my parents come home to find some guy with a hockey mask laying on my couch."

He chuckled, and we headed up towards my room. I knew he was going to have a rough day at school tomorrow. But I wasn't going to let him get hurt again any time soon.

After all .  .  .  . that's what fucking friends are for.