Dangerous

Broken

I lied awake the entire night. I just kept thinking of...my father...and what he would've thought about me now and my life. He died only a few years before everything started. And when that happened, my mom refused to get a job. She said it would be too hard and she wouldn't be able to "take care of me." It was such bullshit...

He was a good man. He always took care of me and was going to try to get me into school. He had been saving all of his money to put me into school and made friends in the district so when I was old enough. But as soon as he died my mom blew all the money on alcohol amongst other things and never spoke to those friends again.

He took me out to go get a small bowl of ice cream when he worked overtime and we would count cars and pet small dogs by the shop. There weren't many kids in the neighborhood but he encouraged me to make friends, which I was never allowed to see again afterwards.

I just imagine what my life would've been like if he was still here. Or what he would've thought of what my mom did. I wonder if he ever even guessed that she was capable of such. There was just so much that I wish I knew or understood.

So here I lied, thinking of what could've been. I felt like a broken toy, who had been misused and abandoned. But what's left for a broken toy?

I shouldn't bring my misery onto Lindsey. It's no secret she's changed since I've met her. She's become more like...me. But she shouldn't be like me at all! I don't want her to become like me!

I got up out of bed, put on a t-shirt, hoodie, and some sweatpants, and left the room. Lindsey's room was a couple doors down, so I quietly opened it and went in. I walked over to where she was sleeping, looking at how peaceful she looked. I leaned down and kissed her forehead before walking back out and into my room. I took one last look around the room before opening the window and sitting on the ledge frame.

"Mark?"

I turned around to see a groggy but awake Lindsey. Shit.

"What're you doing?"

I sighed.

"I can't stay...I shouldn't bring my problems down on you..."

"What're you talking about?"

She walked over, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"I just...you've become more like me and I don't necessarily think that's...a good thing."

"Why not? You're a great guy..."

I just looked down, not wanting to meet her eye as I still had one leg out the window.

"You really are. And I know it's been tough, but you're going to be okay. Please come back inside..."

She gently took a hold on each of my hands as she tried to lead me back. I sighed before shifting my leg so I was just sitting on the ledge, facing her. Then she slowly walked forward and pulled me into a hug.

"You're going to be okay. And I want to help you, you just have to let me. And you really are a good guy. You're definitely the strongest person I've ever met."

"I'm just a desperate kid..."

"You're not. You're an innocent person who got thrown into a horrible situation with terrible people. That's not your fault. Okay?"

I didn't say anything for a minute, before I said the thing that had been on my mind the most.

"I wish my dad was here."

She started rubbing my back as I talked.

"He was a good person who always did the best for his family. But sometimes, I can't help but blame him. If he hadn't have died, none of it would've ever happened. But I know it's not his fault. He didn't choose to...get cancer. I just wish we could've afforded proper treatment... but he refused to use the school funds he set aside for me. I just can't help but think about it all."

"I know, Mark. I know."