0.8 vol. II

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Enid finally coaxed Carl to fall asleep on the couch. Where else did he have to go?

She had brought him an old Star Wars blanket and one of her own pillows.

He slowly took them and threw them onto the couch, along with himself.

"Thank you Enid."

She nodded and smiled, turning around and walking to her own bunk.

She stopped when Carl let out a couple of sniffles.

"Carl, he's fine. He'll get over it. He's just...kinda weird."

Carl pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"What do you mean?"

Enid sighed and pulled up a seat.

"It's an affection thing. I don't know, it's not my story to tell." She waved it off and crouched up.

"I won't tell him."

She pursed her lips and casted her eyes downward. Ron was going to kill her.

"It's his dad,"

She lowered her voice to a whisper.

"He used to be abused. Brutally. Like, he'd show up at my house and eventually had to tell me. Because he was covered in bruises, and he couldn't lift his arm up, and he wasn't himself. He'd want to go home earlier, he'd be hesitant to answer my questions. Come on, I won't believe that he fell down his flight of stairs. I can pick out the bullshit from reality. Plus, his dad is a total piece of shit. Worthless, beats his wife. God, Ron's mom is the sweetest woman I've ever met. Sam is scared to death."

She pushed out air. This was something she already regretted telling Carl.

"Anyways. Ron loves him. He makes up these petty excuses, you know, like something like... 'He was in a bad mood'. 'It won't happen again'. It kills him. It's just like, he's always on guard, you know? You can tell. You barely know him and you can see it. Why else would he have gotten so built. Training himself to fight. Not like he fights back. He takes the beatings because he tries to convince himself he loves that bastard."

The room fell silent. It now became awkward. It was so much to take in for Carl. He fucked up. Oh god he fucked up. He was an idiot, he thought to himself.

"Carl, it's not you. If you're thinking it's you, it's not. He's just not used to having someone close to him. The people that he loves either hurt him or get hurt. And it's not us."

Carl scratched his face, trying to make it seem like it wasn't getting to him. Like he didn't think that. Like he just casually felt sorry for Ron like he was a distant friend. He didn't want to be distant friends with Ron.

"What does Mikey think about it?"

Enid looked up and heaved a brief smile, as if it was kinda funny. But when she looked at Carl with tears stinging her glossed eyes, he figured it wasn't.

"Mikey hates it. Ron never lets us all talk about it, so like it's just me and Mike when we bring it up. And he, he cries and talks about how he would switch lives with Ron just so he wouldn't be so messed up about it. Even though Mikey is so scrawny, small. He couldn't. But he means it when he says he would."

Her voice hitched in her throat, the lump in it overcoming her will to talk. She squeaked and let the tears slip free from her eye sockets.

"Enid I'm sorry."

She scrunched her brows and smiled, confused.

"Carl, why are you sorry?"

He shrugs, not being able to convert his feelings to words.

Dead serious// RarlWhere stories live. Discover now