The Scars Within [boyxboy]

The Scars Within {23}

                I rang the doorbell and Brewer’s dad answered. He stepped aside and let me in, watching as I slid my shoes off.

                “That worthless son of a bitch is in his room. Feel free to give him a few good punches EJ. Knock some sense into his dumbass,” he growled.

                “Yea, sure,” I grumbled, shoving my hands in my pockets and walking away and up towards Brewer’s bedroom. His dad disgusted me, but I always put up my “don’t give a shit” attitude. I didn’t want sympathy from Brewer. I would give my life for him, but I sure as hell never acted like I would. I was mean to him and I knew it. Brewer was the most likely to give me sympathy next to my mom, and I just didn’t want it from him.

                I knocked on Brewer’s door. “W-Who’s there?” he called shakily. “It’s me. Let me in,” I said, trying and failing to make my voice sound cold.

                He opened his door and let me in. I sat on his bed as he grabbed a tissue and shakily held it to his badly bleeding nose. His eyes were red and shiny, but he would never let me see a tear leave his eye. Brewer could be the toughest guy in the world, but he was sensitive when it came to his dad beating him.

                “What happened this time?” I asked, eyeing him carefully. He had bruises in the shape of his dad’s fingers on his arm, and his lip was split. His eye was turning nasty colors.

                “I forgot to get him the newspaper,” he mumbled, wincing as he licked his split lip. “How’s Lionel?”

                I sighed sadly and explained everything to him. “I’m really sorry about that EJ,” he said honestly and threw out the bloodied tissue and grabbed another one to hold under his nose.

                “Brewer, do you ever miss your mom?” I asked quietly. Brewer shrugged and shook his head. “Nah. She left years ago. Why?” he asked curiously. His mom used to beat him too, but she had walked out on him and his dad 5 years ago.

                “I miss my dad. I…I want him right now. He would know what to say,” I whispered. I wanted my dad more than I could ever find the words to explain. I wanted him to promise me that everything would be okay. My dad always knew just what to say. He would know how to calm me down and reassure me about Lionel.

                “Why don’t you call him?” Brewer suggested softly. I bit my lip nervously. I had his number, sure, but I hadn’t talked to him in 3 years.

                I shook my head miserably. “I can’t do it,” I said quietly. Maybe if Lionel were here I could, but, well, that wasn’t exactly possible. Lionel would understand why it was so hard for me. Brewer was my best friend, sure, but he just didn’t understand my feelings on this like Lionel did. Brewer’s dad deliberately harmed him. Mine and Lionel’s dads didn’t.

                I sighed and stood up. “I think I’ll go visit him at the hospital, if he can take visitors,” I mumbled and Brewer nodded. He stood up and the two of us walked downstairs.

                “Brewer!” his dad snapped and Brewer winced. “Y-Yea dad?” he asked as casually as he could. His dad stormed over and grabbed him roughly by the shirt.

                “You worthless piece of shit! You got blood on your shirt!” his dad screamed and punched him in the face. He threw Brewer to the ground and gave him a nasty kicked in the side before storming away into the basement.

                I slowly helped Brewer up. He was wheezing, but he forced a smile. “Good luck EJ. I hope Lionel’s okay,” he said sincerely and coughed. “Text me if you need me,” I said and he nodded and shut the door after me as I left.

                I made my way to the hospital and found Lionel’s parents in the waiting room with Andy and his dad. They all looked up at me and I shifted uncomfortably.

                “Is he okay?” I asked at last. “We don’t know,” Mr. Barrios said quietly and took his wife’s hand in his own, his eyes brilliant with concern for his injured son.

                I sat down with them and about two hours later, a doctor came out. “He can have visitors now, but only for a little,” he said quietly. We all got up and went into Lionel’s hospital room.

                “Oh god my poor baby,” Mrs. Barrios whispered as she sat next to him and stroked his hair gently. Lionel was unconscious and his arm was in a cast. There were stitches in his head, and he was terrifyingly pale.

                “He’ll be okay, right dad?” Andy asked nervously and his dad placed a hand on his shoulder, a troubled look on his face. “I hope so,” he said quietly.

                The doctor came in and sighed. “Will he be okay?” Mr. Barrios asked anxiously. The doctor sighed again and I felt my heart drop. “He slipped into a coma. It could be a few days before he comes out of it, or a few months, or never. Only time will tell,” he said, and my knees grew weak. I dropped into a chair and shot a shaky look at Lionel. The way he looked, I suddenly had the terrible feeling that it would be much more than a few days.