Make Me Learn

2 - Honesty

Lying was second nature to me. I didn't know if my father was the one to blame for that, or my childhood in general - I had always been taught to keep the cogs turning and not make a fuss, and although it wasn't advice I followed now, I had become accustomed to being a little dishonest here and there. Lies helped deflect potentially threatening curiosity, and allowed my mother
to pursue the belief that everything was fine about me.

"Where have you been all night, Damon?" "How was school?" "Have you eaten today?" I didn't bat an eyelid whenever I repeated the same false answers to my mum's concerned questions; it was no different with Louis.

"I'm fine." The words rolled off my tongue like a reflex. The knot in my stomach twisting, I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and tore my gaze away from his. Lying to him was easy, and perhaps it even made me feel a little better. If I said it enough times, maybe I could trick myself into believing it.

The vibrant images playing in my head much like the movie we were watching, however, wouldn't let that happen. There was no disregarding them. They were more real than any lie I could concoct.

"You don't look it." The words were another accusation. Louis glanced at the television screen. "We can watch something else if you want."

I dug my nails into my palms. Stop watching it - that would be an easy way out. It was what you were supposed to do. If you couldn't cope with something, you had to stop. But I had never done that with Orion. I had never stopped, not until the damage was done.

"No." This word was also a reflex, an act of defiance so ingrained I couldn't avoid uttering it, even if now it wasn't helping me out at all. I just felt safer if I refused, if I didn't accept the help of another. It was something I hadn't done since my dad left. I didn't want pity. I didn't want help.

"Alright," Louis sighed. I sank back into the sofa, a little relieved that he hadn't pursued it, but also deflated. Deflated because it was easy. He'd given in without any sort of fight, and I was dying to fight something. What better way to drain the sea of violent memories than with more violence?

The movie rolled on. A few men in suits were yelling at each other in a warehouse. It looked interesting, and I probably would have enjoyed it if I was actually paying attention.

It felt like my mind was my enemy, whispering guilt and pain at me until the dangerous thoughts swelled and grew into unavoidable spirals down. I couldn't climb out, falling further and further with each effort to forget a memory, to disregard an emotion. I needed to do something before I fell too far. I had been there few times before, and I didn't want to repeat the horror - the racing heartbeat, pain shooting through the chest, the lungs constricting, sweating, collapsing. Usually I'd hit something, watch porn, do something destructive. But what could I possibly do here?

Lester offered me a momentary escape. His voice was something I could latch onto and keep me in the here and now, if only for a few seconds.

"Mind if I go out? I'm meant to be meeting someone." Without pausing to wait for an answer or see the knowing look Louis cast his way, Lester stood up and shovelled the final slice of pizza into his mouth. He was almost at the door by the time Louis replied.

"Hang on, Squirt. You're not ditching your friend here."

My heart sank - if it hadn't already reached rock bottom.

Lester groaned and looked over. "I can't take him with me." He waggled his phone in the air like a trophy. "I'm meeting someone."

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware you have a date. Drive him back home or something. I'm not a baby sitter."

"I can't go home," I blurted out, joining in so they wouldn't talk over my head, like some little kid that needed looking after.

"Why not?" Louis was probing. People always did. They tried to stick their nose in where it didn't belong - in the end, it would only get broken.