Delusional

Chapter Six

I can truthfully say he's the only person to make me feel sorrow. It's true that I keep myself sick in the head. I'm always tearing myself down just to feel something. I know that if I can never feel happiness then I at least want to just feel, because feeling nothing at all is worse than pain could ever be. However, his pain is different.  

He told me horrible things. They were things I couldn't even imagine in my own twisted head. He told me what his parents did to him. It was sick. They were sick. He told me what happened that day I found him and about how his dad invited his friends over and the things they did to him while his mother watched and videotaped. I had to ask him to stop. I didn't want to hear anymore. The human brain is naturally drawn to things that are disturbing.

I was curious. I was curious all the way up until I felt sick, even before his story finished. I knew my face must have been contorted weirdly or at least my stomach definitely was.

His voice quieted as he went back to staring at his lap. I immediately jumped into talk of police officers, but he didn't want to hear it. However, he didn't jump up in defense and rush in to say no because he was afraid. He just shook his head slowly, his voice remaining the same slow tone. I knew what he knew, it wouldn't help. By the time an officer was convinced to look into it, his wounds would be healed and his parents could turn into award winning actors. Law doesn't rush in to help a couple of teenagers. I tried to get my mom arrested one time.

I grew quiet too because the sickness was back. I couldn't let him go back to that. I may never sleep tonight.

We didn't say anything else as we both averted our eyes to either the table or our laps. Finally, I looked up again deciding there was no way I was letting him go back. "Why don't you just come with me tonight? They won't know where you're at. Don't worry. I know they'll be mad at you, but we can deal with that later..we can find an excuse." I breathed, hoping he wouldn't reject the idea.

I watched him interlock his fingers and then unlock them again with a contorted face as he sniffled. You'd almost think the question hurt. He finally gave a small nod barely noticeable if it weren't for me watching so closely for an answer.

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So, it was decided that he would stay at my house tonight and we'd find an excuse tomorrow. He felt sort of like a long lost friend to me. He was so familiar it was like he might as well just be a figment of my own imagination.

We walked back to my house together and I rushed something out to my mom about studying together before ushering him upstairs watching her stare after me slightly bewildered. It must be because I never have anyone over or friends at all for that matter.

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It wasn't fun watching him stare at my bedroom wall. The fear was ruining his usually soft face, and I was beginning to feel guilty for whatever may happen to him tomorrow.

I could keep telling myself that I'm going to put an end to this, and he's going to live happily ever after, but, seriously, what am I supposed to do? Murder his mom and dad and run away with him? I just kept mauling over escape routes in my head as I paced my bedroom floor. It seemed like there was no escape for him. I was almost ready to tell him just to go home so that whatever they did to him wouldn't be so bad, but he turned and thanked me. I didn't really know what to say, so I just nodded and sat on the bed beside him.

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I was a bit bewildered when he leaned his head on my shoulder. I hated when people touched me, but there was something warm about knowing the face that held those pretty eyes was close to mine, and he probably needed it.

That's how most of the night passed, and we eventually found ourselves laying down with his head low on my shoulder, and my arms awkwardly wrapped around him; one resting near his stomach, which constantly made me wonder if it was too close to another area of the body.

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I didn't sleep. Although, I suspect he did because he started to drool on my shoulder. I didn't bother to move him. I was willing to bet he slept just about as much as I did, so I decided to leave him be so he could catch up. We both had our reasons. Tonight, mine was him, and in all honestly it wasn't a total loss.

The next morning he woke up and moved away from me. The movement pulled me out of my staring contest with the ceiling. I was so used to the weight on the left side of me. I kind of missed it and debated pulling him back over slowly, but I realized that would be creepy. So, I sat up instead and invited him down for breakfast, which he agreed to after many attempts at rejecting to be 'polite'.

My mom greeted both of us, and asked Patrick what he liked to eat. Cheerios.

Author's Note: All I ask is that you vote for each chapter and leave a comment on parts you liked. I'm very interested in what interests because I want to use it to make my writing better, but I get absolutely no feedback.