Attenuated || Book 1 || ✔

·{ Emotions }·

Evan's POV

The moment I wished to last forever was interrupted. I turned my head to see a woman with similar features to Jonathan.

Her dark brown hair was tied in a messy bun, and her blue eyes glared at Jonathan with hate. Her outfit was less than appropriate for she wore black lingerie, which in all honesty almost made me gag. She had a wine glass in one hand that she had stopped swirling around once she saw me.

"What is this? Are you gay now too? So first you kill my husband and now you go against my religion? What the fuck Jonathan?" Her scratchy voice slurred her venomous words.

"Fuck you. You have no right to say my fucking name. I don't care if I go against your religion — I don't care about you." Jonathan shouted to her as he pulled me closer to him in a statement.

I could see the rage build as his mother continued to glare at him. She raised her hand back, gripping the glass and as soon as I saw her go to release in a throw I yanked Jonathan down, making us fall on the floor.

I heard stomping footsteps storm away from the open door as pain shot up my back from landing on it.

"Why did your mother do that?" I groaned, trying to sit up, but realizing I can't due to Jonathan. He was on top of me, his head snuggled into my neck.

"She hates me..." He whispered, his warm breath breathing on my neck. I could feel heat travel to my cheeks against my will. By his tone this was a serious topic.

"Why?" I pried, hoping he wouldn't mind me voicing my curiosity.

"I killed her husband...my dad...he was under too much stress because I was... I was in the h-hospital..." He choked out as, what I am assuming is tears hit my skin.

"Jon..." I hesitated, I didn't know if he wanted to talk about it. "Why...why were you in the hospital?"

"I..." A sob escaped his mouth, "Ev... I..." I wrapped my arms around him as he struggled with his words. Seeing him like this is different, he usually doesn't show much emotion. It hurts to hear him cry.

"It's ok...you don't have to tell me." I rubbed his back trying to comfort him. "I won't push you-" "I d-didn't eat...a-and w-when I did..." He had cut me off, giving me an answer. I had instantly connected two and two together.

"You threw it up...?" He nodded his head slightly and my hug around him tightened. "Jon...are you better now?"

"I s-still t-throw up whatever I e-eat if someone calls me f-fat" He paused after saying the word, "...a-and I gag when I h-hear the w-word..."

I didn't know what to day after that. I just rubbed his back and waited for him to stop crying, for him to feel better and comforted.

So the story was simple...he had anorexia and got placed in the hospital. During this time his father died from a heart attack and his...mother hates him? Is she...the one who causes his- does she abuse him?!

"Jon." I noticed the stern tone in my own voice. I couldn't hide the hate growing from the sudden realization that Jonathan could very well be abused. "Does your mother abuse you?"

His breathing hitched and he sat up, my arms falling from the embrace I had him in. He looked down at me as he straddled me, which I would be lying if I said it was easy to ignore.

"Don't tell anyone." He took over a threatening tone that wad countered by his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

"Why shouldn't I?" I challenged as I leaned on my elbows. If he wished me to not tell someone he better have a good answer. I can't stand seeing him hurt.

"If you do, I lose my sister. So don't you fucking say a word." I stayed quiet after this. If his mother was taken to jail they would be orphans, right? So foster care and they could be split. I see his logic.

"Promise me." Again, I stayed silent, still contemplating. "Evan." He warned as he bent down, putting his hands on each side of my head. "Fucking promise."

I stared into his bloodshot crystal eyes and continued to contemplate. It would hurt him to lose his sister. I can tell. Maybe even more than abuse.

"Evan-!" "I promise!" I cut off his shouting with my own. "I promise..." I put my arms down and rested my head on the floor again, looking away from him. It hurt me to know that he deals with abuse and I can't do anything because of a stupid fucking promise now.

He lifted his hands away from me, and I thought he was going to get off me, but his weight stayed on me, which confused me. I looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, "you know, you can get off me."

He still stayed there, looking at me with a certain smirk that unnerved me, "you're blushing" He teased with a chuckle.

I raised my hands to my cheeks and felt them burning, which in all honesty worsened the blush, "whatever." I rolled my eyes with a little smile.

He chuckled again, "I'm sorry for...being all emotional and shit." He said as he stood, offering me a hand up.

I took it greatfully before speaking, "it's fine. Sometimes it's better to let your emotions out. Bottling up for so long is bad for a persons' health."

"Damn. Way to be wise and shit." He gave another quiet laugh as he examined the glass that was now in pieces on his bed.

"Do you want to sleep over at my house? It'd be better than here." I voiced my thoughts, before quickly adding, "your sister could come too."

Jonathan looked at me for a few seconds before a small barely noticeable smile settled on his face. He gave a nod before holding a finger up to me and leaving the room.

I spent the few minutes he took to return to pick up the large pieces of glass. When he did return his younger sister was with him, a small bag on her back.

"Evan, right?" She questioned, her voice seeming happy. "I'm Jacqueline, but you can call me Jackie." She held out her hand to me and I shook it with the one not filled with glass.

"Ev, you can just leave that in the bed." Jonathan gestured to the glass in my hand and I nodded, placing it back down in a pile.

"Uh, yeah. I'll call Mr. Nelson. He'll pick us up." I nodded, getting out my phone as Jonathan began to pack, Jackie helping him.

They have such a good relationship. I am glad for that. I hope Jackie doesn't get beaten too. From the looks of it she didn't have any bruises or cuts, but they could very well be covered by makeup.

I shook that thought from my head, deciding to focus on the task at hand. "Hey Mr. Nelson, I am at Jonathan's house. Could you pick up him, his sister and I up?" Mr. Nelson gave a hum before asking the address, "19 Cambridge Crescent."

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A/N

The places present in this story are clearly fictional, but if they relate to real life it is purely coincidental.

The story does take place in Ontario, Canada, but the city is unnamed as of now and when it is named it will be completely random.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors.

~NES