My parents notice my absence, and ask me what’s wrong.
I tell them it’s stress, homework, you know. But the pile of homework I have waiting is far from my mind. I sit at my desk staring blankly at my textbook.
He looked so… defeated. Hurt. Is he sick? Did he get attacked again? He doesn’t look healthy either. Is he eating enough? What is going on with him? I can’t stand him pushing me away again. But I need him closer.
I go out for a walk when my parents go out to meet friends.
I’m walking aimlessly around the neighbourhood, wondering about everything and nothing. And then, there he is.
A door burst open, and he comes thundering out, moving fast down the worn steps. It’s obvious his direction is nowhere but away. Anywhere, just away.
And I can see why.
In the open doorway, a red-faced man stands, screaming obscenities and shaking a half-empty beer bottle. He calls him names I never want to hear again, daring him to come back.
Tallan runs right past me without a glance, his hair in his face. I chase after him without a thought, horrified and beginning to understand. He runs hard, not looking where he’s going. He’s done this before. Running away and always, always hoping for an escape; he doesn’t even look before stepping onto the road.
I follow him to the park, where he finally collapses, breathing heavily and raggedly. I walk up to him slowly. He sees me but doesn’t acknowledge me. I catch sight of the ugly bruise starting to form on his cheek.
I crouch down next to him. His eyes close as he turns his head away, letting his hair fall into his face, hiding again. I want to touch him, hold him. But I don’t know how. He’s shaking and he looks so delicate. I don’t mean it in a pitying sense; he just is.
“Tallan,” I say finally. “Wanna go to my place?”
He stays silent for so long I thought he’s refusing. But then he nods.
I make some eggs for the both of us, and we eat quietly. He picks at his food, taking a few tiny bites before pushing the plate away.
“Not hungry?” I say.
He shakes his head, looking down so I can’t see his face.
I stare at him. “How long has he been hitting you?”
Immediately, he stiffens. His shoulders hunch, defensive and closed off. “Shut up.”
“Tallan, it’s not right-----” I should stop, I know.
“Shut up.”
“He’s your----”
“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” he yells, chucking his plate across the room in one swift movement. It hits the wall, scrambled eggs flying, but it doesn’t break.
Silence.
And then he breaks down. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t----I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry, I----” he continues spilling apologies, staring at me with wide frightened eyes while his breathing gets faster and faster.
“It’s okay,” I tell him quickly, alarmed at his agitation. I start to get up, but he suddenly shoots up, backing away frantically.
“No,” he chokes out, “don’t. Don’t, I----I didn’t do it! Don’t hurt me----” He shakes his head, still staring at me wildly, but I realize he’s not looking at me. No, he’s seeing something else, someone else entirely.
And then he bolts out the door and away.
He’s absent again for two days straight.
On the third day, I’m practically going out of my mind with worry and fear. What if something drastic happened?
Before I think clearly about what I’m doing, I’m standing on his front steps. I hesitate. What about his father? I’m assuming that’s who the man was.
I knock. While I wait, I gather up my courage and put on my poker face.
The man opens the door, beer-less and slightly less scary than the last time I saw him. His flat eyes scan me over, wondering what I’m doing there. I can already feel him about to slam the door in my face.
I paste on a bright smile. “Hello? I’m a friend of Tallan’s. He hasn’t shown up lately, and I’m wondering where he is?”
The man stares at me emotionless for a second. “You’re a friend of my son?” he says, not believing me.
“Well, a classmate.” I pause, and happen upon a bit of brilliance: “We have to do a project together.”
“Huh.” The man scratches his chin, losing interest. “I don’t know where the little fucker is. Btu don’t worry, he’ll be in school tomorrow.” Now he starts to push the door closed. “Run along now, little lady.”
True to his word, Tallan comes to class the next day.
But he’s limping.
He doesn’t look at anyone and says nothing. At lunch time, however, he does the most surprising thing. He walks up to the table where my friends are sitting and I am spacing out. They all quiet to stare at him as he comes behind me and tap me on the shoulder.
“I need to talk to you,” he says quietly, looking very uncomfortable with all the attention on him.
I follow him out the cafeteria. Ben is staring at me disapprovingly when we walk past his table, but I just stare back calmly. We go to his spot under the stairs.
He sits, so I do the same. He doesn’t say a word as he picks at his sleeves. Then he turns to me, lifting his grey eyes to mine. “Why did you come to my house yesterday?” He doesn’t say it like a challenge or accusation. He just sounds exhausted and resigned.
“I was worried,” I answer truthfully.
He stares at me solemnly, the longest he has ever looked me in the eye. “Why?” he says finally.
I consider him. “Because someone should.” He doesn’t look like he believes me, so I continue. “You’re not worthless, Tallan. And you’re not alone. It’s okay to have someone care for you----”
“No, it’s not.” His eyes are squeezed shut, and he says it as if he’s in pain. “You shouldn’t care about me, okay? He’ll----he--- You’ll get hurt, Jade.” His voice trails off weakly.
Only then does it occur to me that he might get hurt because of my actions. “Did he hurt you? Is that why you’re limping?”
Tallan opens his eyes and he looks at me again, sadly. “I’m fine,” he lies, and he stands and starts to leave me again, walking slowly, favouring his left leg. But at the end of the hall, he stops. He turns back, and even though he doesn’t raise his voice, I can hear him loud and clear.
“Don’t go there again, okay? Don’t go to that house again.”
revelations and warnings. hmm. something's stirring. it's always like that, ain't it? we don't see a storm cloud brewing until it's right above us. and then it's pouring rain and running through midnight streets without a glance back at the monsters we try so hard to hide but we love them just the same as they taunt us with their soft whispering caresses...
^ in which this crazy little writer girl tries to be all philosophical and metaphoric yet creepy and a bit morbid.
smile, pass it on: smile at every stranger you pass by. you never know who might need it.
> Fix You ~ Vita Chambers
> external link: he's a pretty interesting fellow. check out his thoughts and beautiful words.
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Sketches and Scars
Kurzgeschichten"But once you start noticing something----especially someone---- it’s not as easy to just go back to life before." He was that kid in the back you didn't know existed except when the teacher did roll call. He was that kid that got shoved into in the...
