Come Back to Me [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 9

Jesse P.O.V

Connie wants to know the truth, and in all honesty, she deserves it. She's trying to help me get through this horrible time and once again, I'm pushing her away. I don't know why I'm like this.

The thought of telling Connie the truth makes my stomach ache. I feel sickened to my core.

"Jesse, whatever happened, you're still my brother," she reassures me.

"I was at the hospital," I whisper, "they moved him to a different floor," telling the story, I can't look Connie in the eyes. "I was up there alone," my voice quivers, "and a janitor came in," I pause. "He started talking, and-, and he wouldn't let me leave." My sobbing begins. "He cut my tube so I couldn't get away. I couldn't fight him," I cry into my knees.

"Oh, God, Jesse," Connie says softly while rubbing my shoulders.

I'm crying once again. I've forgotten how many times I've cried today, but I know that I've never cried this much in one day. Well, actually, I believe I cried a bit more than this after I woke up from the crash.

"I hit him with a lamp," I sputter out. "And when I got to the elevator I collapsed."

The sympathy and anger in my sister's eyes are clear. She's probably never felt this sorry for me in my life, which is saying something. The anger is from her new desire to kill the janitor who caused me this level of pain.

"Jesse, you have to go to the police," Connie tells me softly, but with a stern tone.

"No," I blurt out quickly.

I don't want to go to the police, not because of what they'll do, but because there's a chance that nothing will happen. What proof do I have besides the bruises and bites? Those will heal before we get anywhere near a court. That janitor, however, has been bludgeoned with a lamp and an alarm clock. For all I know, he could attempt to countersue. I don't want to have to go through that legal process.

"Jesse, you can't let him get away with what he did to you. He deserves it. And if he isn't put in jail then what stops him from preying on someone else? Someone alone, grieving, weak," her choice of words when describing me are not my favorite words, particularly the last one.

"It's painful enough telling you," I snap. "Now let me go to sleep."

My sister gives me a worried look before getting up and heading to the door. "You know I'm always right across the hall if you need anything," she offers softly before leaving.

A lengthy sigh escapes my body the moment she leaves. This horror story is my burden to bear. Yes, he deserves to be in jail. He would never leave if it were up to me. Unfortunately, I'm so weak that I can't bring myself to tell anyone but my sister. Even telling her, I almost came up with some elaborate story about my lover flat-lining and having to be brought back.

However, that would not explain my bruising and Connie would never believe it unless it all added up, which it wouldn't. So, in the end, I told her the truth. I know better than to lie to her anyway.

I wrap my body in a soft, but light, blanket. It's one that I've had for a long time. I find comfort in it.

My mind slowly relaxes, the tears stop flowing from my eyes. All is slowly becoming peaceful after an excruciatingly long day. My body will finally be able to rest some of its pain away.

I sleep. I sleep for several hours before finally waking up sometime in the middle of the night. The house is silent. My family is resting peacefully. Unfortunately, I am no longer asleep.

I quietly walk downstairs to the kitchen. My throat is dry from sobbing all day. My eyes feel awful as well. Perhaps there's a bottle of eye drops upstairs.

I pour myself a glass of water and sigh before taking a sip. The cold temperature feels nice traveling down my throat. It's soothing.

Over time, I drink the whole glass before quietly setting it in the sink, since the dishwasher was already running. The hum of the machine is almost relaxing. It's a background sound that you don't notice until it stops.

I lean against the kitchen counter and stare blankly out the kitchen window. The backyard is pitch black. There's not a light in the dark.

When I was little, I hated looking out windows at night. I would always see something move or something would appear as the silhouette of a mysterious figure. My weak body made me a timid child. I was and still am very fragile.

I glance at the time displayed by the oven. It's two in the morning. My entire family would be asleep unless Connie was still up texting Erin.

She would deny talking to him if someone asked, but I know that's who she's talking to. She likes him, a lot. I don't mind, I actually think they would be cute together. Erin is a good guy and Connie could use a good guy in her life.

After a few moments of looking out the window, I decide to head back upstairs and try to go back to sleep. The walk up the stairs is much more difficult than the walk going down. My parents offered to get a stair lift to make things easier, but I refused. They do enough for me as it is. I can walk up and down a flight of stairs a few times a day. It's not that big of a deal.

I quietly walk back to my room, purposefully avoiding the floorboards that I know creak. I don't want to worry my parents by being up this late. Luckily, I slip back into my room without any issues and as soon as I hit the bed, I'm out like a light.