The Boy with Words for Skin

Chapter 20: The Tub

The rest of Halloween was a blur. I remember snippets of Kit cleaning grit out of scrapes, sewing up the hole in my hand, but I don't remember any pain. I remember the twins taking down the fake cobwebs, the others sneaking glances but not speaking to me. I remember feeling grateful for that, not having to answer questions. The last thing I remember was Kit and Mair helping me to my room, helping me lay down in my bed.

I woke up from what must've been a nightmare because I thrashed out and screamed. There was a yelp and then a thud next to my bed. Surprised by that, I jerked away from the noise and fell off the other side of the bed.

"Words. Are you okay?"

I turned, able to see under my bed to the other side. Boy was on the floor over there.

"Boy?" My mind cleared a little bit, but my heart didn't slow down at all. "Did I just knock you off the bed?"

He laughed a little. "Yeah."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It didn't hurt. It's okay."

"Oh, okay." I laid flat on the ground, exhausted. The aches throughout my body crept back to make themselves known.

"Are . . . you okay?"

I realized I had no idea what time it was or even what day it was. Had I slept for another two days?

"What day is it?"

"Halloween. But everyone's in bed."

"Oh."

I reached up and grabbed the side of my bed with one arm. Even just that little bit of movement sent claws digging between each of my ribs. I sucked in air, waited a second, and tried to push myself up. My entire body was stiff, my feet were blocks of pain. My right hand screamed. I raised myself up maybe two inches before my muscles stalled and gave away.

"Were you having a nightmare?"

"Yeah," I said. I didn't have the energy to lie just then. I managed to push myself up into a sitting position and leaned my head against the edge of the mattress. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain.

There were soft footsteps. Two small arms slipped around me from behind and squeezed. I almost cried out from the burst of pain, but I managed to hold it back. "I'm sorry I've been a brat," Boy said.

I had to breathe carefully. It felt like my lungs had shrunk and breathing too deeply would rip them open. "You don't need to apologize." I said. "I've been the brat."

He let go of me and sat down next to me. "I guess we've both been brats."

I tried to find something to say but couldn't. My right calf was covered with thoughts about how guilty I felt about how I treated him. I thought about just reading that out loud.

My words! My skin! My hoodie! They'd cut it off! My hoodie was gone! I opened my eyes and saw that I had on pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Everyone had seen me only in my underwear. Had they read my skin? Kit could've when she cleaned me up. Would she do that? What would—

What The Voice told me in the entryway closet hit me like a fist. If I put my needs before my brother's, I didn't deserve him. As terrible and mean as The Voice could be, he was right. I needed to worry about him just then, not myself. I needed to be the big brother he deserved, now more than ever. He didn't have anyone else.

"I'm sorry, Boy," I said. "I've been a jerk, but I want to be a good brother. I'm going to do better. I promise."

He shifted his weight. "I think you're a good brother."