The Religious & The Damaged (UNDER EDITING)

55

Elias

I stand next to Joseph as he and Bethany fall into a tight embrace, and when they pull away, she takes his face into her hands—her brows furrowed upward, showcasing her concern as she asks, "Are you okay?"
Joseph nods. "I'm fine." A sudden smile of amusement spreads across his face. "Did you get out what you wanted?"
Bethany huffs out a laugh as she shoves her hands into her pockets. "Oh yeah. That and more." She replies, and I laugh lightly.
She smiles to the both of us before settling back on Joseph. "Tomorrow. 10am." He nods. "Okay." Her gaze meets mine again and she holds out her arms. "C'mere."
I smile as I wrap my arms around her, and her grasp is tight around me—it's nice. She pulls away with a heavy sigh.
"Too bad I missed saying bye to Kelsey." She says.
"I didn't want her around this neighborhood." He says. "You'll see her tomorrow."
She nods. "Kay. Well, I love you and get plenty of rest."
"Love you too."
She smiles at the both of us before turning and walking to her car, parked behind Joseph's, and I get into his car. I look down and tug my phone out of my front pant pocket when I feel it buzz against my leg.
It's a text from Nick.
Party @ Spence's. 8. Coming? 1:17pm.
I look over at Joseph as he starts the car, and I say, "Spencer is having a party. Wanna go?"
"Yeah, definitely could use it after-" His gaze meets mine briefly; my gaze confused. "Yeah." He says instead.
I don't ask why he suddenly chose to not say what he wanted to say because I don't want to pressure him and I know what he's talking about anyway. His dad. And it makes me wonder if a party would be such a good idea after all, but he wants to go and so do I. I want to believe he'll be okay, so I simply believe that and text Nick back.
sounds good :). 1:19pm.

I'm sitting on a couch with people I don't know, and my gaze is directed in the kitchen next to me—Joseph is wasted, and I can't be around him when he's drunk because I hate it, ever since I was old enough to understand my dad's alcoholism, I hated being around it. I should've known Joseph would be drinking, but he kept saying that he'd be okay when we left his dad's house; I wanted to believe him, but as I sit here now and watch as he fills his cup for the 13th time, I realize that I was stupid to believe that. I knew better. We shouldn't have come.
My gaze doesn't leave Joseph when Nick plops down next to me, and I see him watching me in my peripheral vision, then he looks into the kitchen—seemingly following my gaze.
"How long has he been-"
"Since we got here."
He looks at me. "You two in a fight or something?" He asks, and I shake my head.
"We went to his dad's for his stuff and I think it was just too much."
"He wasn't ready." He states rather than questions because that's obvious. I nod. He sighs and stands. "You guys drove here?" I nod again. "Okay. Let's grab him and I'll drive back to the apartments."
I finally look at Nick. "Are you sure?"
He nods and shrugs. "Yeah. He's my friend too, man." I smile lightly. "You think I'd let you drive, you're a total passenger princess." He attempts to make me feel better, and it works—just a little.
I smile more and stand. "Thanks, man."
He pats me on the shoulder, and I turn and head into the kitchen with hesitation.
Joseph grins over at me and says, "Hey, where've you been?" His words slur heavily, and it fills my chest with anxiety and a twisting feeling in my stomach.
I gulp hard and force a smile as I attempt to grab onto his sweater. "Come on, let's go home. We have to be up early." I say instead of the truth: I can't take watching you like this any longer.
But my sugarcoated excuse doesn't work—he pushes my hand away and stumbles back into the counter. I instinctively reach to catch his fall, but he catches himself instead—extending his arm back and grasping onto the counter. Then, he speaks in more of a slurred mess.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm having fun, isn't that what you wanted? For me to take the edge off?" His body is leaning forward and backwards as he speaks, and I can't help but stare in disbelief at what he just said.
"Not like this." I reply, a single shake of my head.
"Come on, Olsson. You've had enough." Nick says as he moves closer.
Joseph looks at him, and his gaze is dark with drunken anger. I have to look away.
"And who are you to tell me when enough is enough?"
"When you make it my problem. You got upset over your dad, so fucking what? You won't see him again after today, but here you are taking it like an immature idiot."
"Nick." I attempt to defuse the argument that's blooming, but I'm too quiet—they don't hear me.
"Fuck you." Joseph spats out.
"Oh yeah. Really proving my fucking point."
"I don't need-"
My eyes shut tight briefly and I look up. "Okay." I interrupt, and my voice is loud now, but only for a second. My gaze meets Joseph's as I say, "You've had enough."
I take the cup and place it on the table next to us, and he's objecting to it, but I've had enough. I feel an anxiety attack coming.
I take his sleeve and turn, but I don't make it far—he pulls away and I spin around as he walks around me to the table.
"Joseph." I grab onto his sweater and move closer, and he shakes his head repeatedly. "It's okay." I say. "Let's just go home and sleep it off, okay?"
"No."
"It's okay..."
I tug at him as he keeps repeating himself and shaking his head, and I'm repeating myself, wanting to take a calmer, more gentle approach to the situation. He doesn't comply, instead he turns and shoves me. My back hits the counter, and I'm caught by surprise. He steps back, his eyes tainted as he drowns in some sort of haze. I gulp hard, my gaze falling and lips pressing together; curled into a sort of exasperated state, and I look up.
"I don't like it when you drink."
His demeanor completely changes; he's suddenly aware of what he just did, and I see it in his face—guilt. Regret.
My gaze doesn't fall. I stare at him, just as exasperated as it's been. He nods.
"Sorry..." I don't reply. He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze downcast. "I think we should go."
I push myself off the counter and glance at Nick. He looks at me with raised brows and worry in his expression; he wants to know I'm okay, so I nod and look back at Joseph. I step forward and grab onto him. We walk to the front door—forcing ourselves through the crowd.
"I'm sorry." He murmurs.
"It's okay." I say, and I help him into the backseat of his car once we're outside and I buckle his seatbelt.
I take the car keys out of his pocket and toss them over to Nick, then I get into the car.
My heart is still pounding from the shove because for just a second, I was 13 again and shoved into the wall by my dad. But I'm okay. I want to believe that. I know Joseph didn't mean to push me—he's just drunk and hurting. I know he'll wake up tomorrow and feel guilty about it and apologize about 20 times, and I'll reassure him that it's okay and things will be okay after that because we're stronger to let that ruin anything. I don't like holding grudges, and he doesn't like being angry. I don't like it either.

I sit below my bed. Joseph is sleeping. I stare down at a purple notebook as I hold it in my lap.
I've been staring at it for a long time because it's Joseph's and I don't know what I'll find in it. I didn't know when I found it on his desk and I don't know now.
I take a short breath and open it. I realize quick that it's some kind of journal, and it fills my heart with such dread because I know it's going to be bad. I read anyway.
Life is a whole lot more complicated now that he's in it, but with realizing that, I wouldn't want him out of it.
I find myself thinking about him all the time and I hate it. I also love it at the same time. It's confusing. I can't stop thinking about how I want to hold him, talk to him, to get to know him, kiss him...
I know I'll burn in hell for these feelings-
My heart drops and my brows furrow upward into a state of distraught.
This is how he felt for most of his time knowing me...
and I'm starting to accept that I can never be the son my father wants me to be.
These feelings for him grow stronger every time I see him.
Do I dare be so selfish and act on my feelings?
God won't take these feelings away, so maybe I should just accept them. I'll try anyway.
I glance at the date; it was the day before he began talking to me normally, well—as normal as he could get. And I smile. I turn the page.
I miss him. I miss how life was before this burden weighed me down, it's stuck with me and I lost him.. and in some sense, I lost myself too.
It hurts remembering just how life has changed. Life wasn't good before but it was better than life now. I want that back. I want him back.
I make myself sick and I cut just to feel control because I've lost all control. My father and the memories of what happened has full control now.
I gulp hard. I feel sick.
And when I purge and cut, it feels like I have some of that control again.
Starving isn't enough anymore.
Elias stopped trying to talk to me and I know I told him to, but I really wanted him to keep trying. I wanted that reminder that he still cared.
Tears form and I'm quick to raise a hand and wipe my eyes and keep reading.
And maybe he still does. I don't know.
I'm not worth caring about, maybe he's realized that.
As I finish, I can't help but think: Wow.
I knew before that Joseph's grown a lot since I've met him, but this just proves further that he has, and today was a setback. That's all it was, a setback. He's stronger now to let that stop him from growing more, and now a new chapter awaits him in just a few hours. No one deserves a new beginning more than him.
I turn the page, but that's it.
That was the last entry.
I close the notebook and place it on the spot next to me, and I reach back to place a hand on the bed as I stand. I turn and get into bed and pull the covers over me and fix them over Joseph, then my hand runs through his hair—careful to not wake him. I move closer and rest my head against his chest, and his arms unconsciously wrap around me.
That's the end of Joseph's pain.