What do you want to be when you grow up? I don't want to be alone.

4

"Uh-um dad?"

"hmm...?"

"How-how do I tell someone I like them?"

My dad folded his paper and smiled down at me. "Got a crush do you? Who is it, anyone I know?" I shifted uncomfortably in my chair at the breakfast table and stared down into my lap. "Well tell me about her."

My dad was always...forceful, and he was not a person one argued with, so I opened my mouth to tell him. "W-well, they’re really nice and friendly and-um cute." I felt my cheeks go red as I continued to stare down into my lap.

"What’s her name?" I closed my eyes as if my not seeing him would make him and his questions go away. "What’s her name son?" he asked again, his voice losing the friendliness of moments ago and taking on a stricter tone. I cringed at the sharpness of his voice. Why had I brought this up?

I took a deep breath, knowing the longer I held out the worse it would be. "H-his name i-is Marcus."

The sentence hung in the air like a bombshell for what felt like a lifetime. I slowly cracked an eye open to see my father still sitting in front of me, face turning red as his knuckles turned white.

"What did you just say?" he growled through clenched teeth. Some part of my brain told me to lie, and I was seriously considering it, but before I could fabricate one the words came out of my mouth again.

"His name is Marcus."

SMACK!

"I never-NEVER-want to hear those words from your mouth again, do you hear me?! No son of mine-"

I started to protest. "But Harry-"

SMACK!

"Harry is dead, do you hear me?! She’s not a Watson anymore!"

"At least she accepts me, unlike YOU!" I yelled. He grabbed my collar, pulling me towards him. I struggled to get away but he was too strong. He wrapped his hands around my throat and started to squeeze, choking me and cutting off the air. I struggled to breath, lashing out and kicking wildly. My foot connected with something and he dropped his grip on me. I rushed up stairs to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. All I wanted to do was collapse and sob, but I knew he wasn't done with me. I crossed the room to the window and threw it open, my foot finding the top of the window on the floor below me. I lowered myself down and dropped to the ground, sprinting several blocks away before stopping.

I collapsed around the corner of an abandoned alleyway. Leaning against the wall of a building, I allowed the tears run down my face. Sobs shook my body as I attempted and failed to control myself. It was a long time before I finally was able to breathe normally once more. I used the palm of my hand to wipe the remaining tears from my eyes.

Shakily, I stood up. I walked down to a public restaurant and snuck into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. God I looked awful. My eyes were puffy and red, nose runny, and a bruise was forming around my left eye from where he had hit me. I furiously wiped at my eyes again even though they were now dry. I had to hide that bruise. I raked my hair over my left eye. The bruise was still visible, but at least it was less noticeable. I took a paper towel and blew my nose, then looked in the mirror again. Well, it wasn’t good, but it was better. I left the restaurant before stopping. Where was I going? I couldn’t go back home. I would’ve gone to Harry, but I had no idea where she was. After a long deliberation and against my better judgment, I decided to go to Marcus's house.

I arrived at his house and knocked on the door. I heard an "I’ll get it" from the other side just before the door opened to reveal Marcus with his straight shoulder length brown hair and a smile plastered on his face. "Hey John. What-what happened to your eye?"

I subconsciously reached up to brush my fingers against the bruise. "I got in a fight. Tommy Smith. Hey listen-" I said before he could ask anything else. "My dad's out of town for a few days. I was wondering if I could stay here..." I was lying through my teeth and hoped he couldn’t tell.

"Yeah, sure. Let me ask mum." he invited me in and called his mom over.

"Oh hello John. What are you doing here?" I always liked Marcus's mother. She was kind and gentle and everything I pictured my own mom to be like. I didn’t really know my own mother, she had died when I was little.

Marcus explained everything to her and she nodded and smiled. "Oh, of course. Shall I call your dad and let him know you got here okay?"

"No!" I shouted louder than I meant to. His mom turned to look at me. Shit. "I-I mean, he had to leave for work. He’s probably already left." lies, lies, lies... His mom nodded slowly, not thoroughly convinced but at least not going to tell my dad. "Okay... Why don’t you boys go up to Marcus's room?" We both nodded and Marcus showed me up to his room.

Once inside, Marcus shut the door and wheeled on me. "Okay, what gives?"

"I don’t know what you mean."

"Oh really? You don’t know a Tommy Smith."

"Marcus, please..." I stared hole in the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

"You know you can tell me. Was it-"

I sat on his bed. "Nothing happened. Just drop it okay?"

I felt Marcus's gaze searching me. "Fine. Hey, you hungry?" I smiled, grateful he was letting it go and nodded. "I think mum's making lunch." He pulled me up off his bed and we ran downstairs.