Fix You ~Completed~

Act Eighty-Four

There was an old backpack that was a decent sized shoved deep inside the closet. I wouldn't be able to bring everything, but I'd have enough. Essentials were all there needed, really. My clothes, toothbrush, some books with enough sentimental value, the birthday money Mom and Dad had sent me over the years I hid inside the pages of said books, and the box of Goldfish in the cabinet. It should have made me feel hollow to realize I had nothing else. My life was a half-empty backpack.

I had the clothes shoved haphazardly deep in the bag, the books of top of that, and I was just about to rush out with the backpack hanging off my left shoulder to get the Goldfish when the front door slammed. Now, I could have stomped out anyhow and just walked past him, all confident and such. If I were a tougher boy, I could have done that.

Being myself, however, I did the exact opposite.

The backpack slid off my shoulder and hit the floor with a disappointed thump. Desperately, I rushed to the door to shut it. That god awful sound it made when it went into place, hiding my shaking figure from Kyla's line of sight made me want to puke. It was so loud. Obnoxious. Obvious.

"Clem," he sighed, his footsteps echoing as he came across the living room and pounded on the door. "Open up. C'mon, I gotta change. My clothes reek."

No. No, I couldn't. When he saw what I was doing...

I quickly collected the bag, looking for a place to hide it. The bed was too low to the floor, it wouldn't fit. He had to go inside the closet for his change of clothes and that damn thing was so small. None of the drawers in the dresser could fit the bag.

He has a key. He has a fucking key.

I'm screwed. I'm so screwed.

Kyla shoved open the door, pissed. That fury only seemed to grow when he saw the bag on the floor at my feet. I went for it, my hands trembling, but he had me by the shoulders. "And what the fuck is that?" he seethed, gesturing to the incriminating bag. I whimpered, unable to come up with a single intelligible response. "What are you trying to do? Leave me?"

"I-I was... I was gonna have a-a sleepover-"

"With your little boyfriends?" Kyla snapped at me, my stuttering only making his grip on me tighten. I let out a cry, trying to shove him off. "Not getting it good enough here so you want to go have them show you the right way to be fu-"

I had it. I couldn't take another second of him. "Let go of me!" I screamed like a banshee, my knee jolting up and landing right against his groin. The wail he let out filled me with so much- exuberance, pride, relief. I used my elbow to push him off, nailing him right in the jaw. He'd done it to me a number of times and now I saw the sick satisfaction at the sight of someone collapsing by your physical force. I hurt him just like he hurt me. "Let. Go. Of. Me."

The bag was in my grasp. I rushed past Kyla, holding back my cries, and I got as far as the kitchen before a blow landed to the back of my head. Like London Bridge, I fell down. The center of my head throbbed the way it did the time Kyla shoved me into the doorknob in our bedroom when I tried leaving in the middle of "alone time." This almost felt worse.

"You really fucking think you can leave me?" Kyla's voice growled. I groaned, attempting to push myself up. If I could get to my feet fast enough, maybe I could get him down again and bolt. I could get out of this. I knew I could. I had to. "Clem, we both know you can't survive without me. I'd never let you leave because you wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't there."

"I-I don't need you," I spat into the carpet.

My words took some time to hit him. In response, he hit me. The punch landed on my hip, a strange place. Kyla had to be down on his knees over me now, straddling my back. "Oh, you don't?" he hissed. "That's not what you've always told me! Remember when I tried getting you to leave me the fuck alone? All you did was cry about how I couldn't leave you, how you couldn't exist without me-"

"I'm different now!"

"Oh, sure. Clem, guys like you never change. You will never be anything more than just a pathetic fa-"

That word. That fucking word. If he tried to use it one more time, I'd tear his throat out.

"You are not allowed to call me that!" I screamed, beating my fists against the floor. It must have knocked Kyla off balance enough because he fell off of me when I arched my back. I got to my feet, holding my hands up to order him to stay back. "I am a person, Kyla! I am not your punching bag! I have feelings and I-I hate you! I truly hate you, Kyla! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!"

My warning didn't click with him. Kyla was upon me in an instant, hands threaded through my hair, and I was yanked onto my back. The bag I was clutching he discarded across the room. "You hate me?" he gasped, pouting his bottom lip. "Too bad. I've never been a fan of hate fucking."

When those sick hands of his drifted towards my waist, I let out another scream, trying to get a hold of his throat. Honestly, I wasn't sure why I went for the throat, but it seemed right in the moment. "Stop! Stop! How many times do I have to tell you to stop?" I sobbed, wiggling around beneath him. I got the curve between my thumb and index finger against the edge of his neck before Kyla realized what I was doing. My were snatched by Kyla. He curled his colorless hands round them until I heard a crack. "Kyla!"

"I have always loved it when you screamed my name."

"You... you!" I trembled, the pain slithering through me and settling right inside of my throat. It wasn't worth it. None of this was worth it. "K-Kyla, just let me go."

"Why?" he laughed. "After all I've done for you, why the hell should you be allowed to leave?"

"You don't love me."

"So?"

"Let me be happy. Let go." I turned my head to the side, peering at the door. Yes, I knew what do to. It could save me. "Kyla, E-Eddie is downstairs waiting for me. He's in his car. I told him if I-I wasn't there in twenty minutes to come looking."

Recognition flashed in his bloodthirsty eyes. "Eddie?"

"Yes," I whispered, losing feeling in my arms. That sick pain had faded and was replaced with an uncomfortable numb. "He came to protect me."

"You're leaving me... for him?"

The hurt on his face gave me a such joy. Even fearing that I was going off with another man made him so angry. He was jealous.

My lie was working.

"He loves me." I tried not to smile too much when I said this. "Kyla, let me go. Just let me go. We can both be happy if you just let me go!"

His lips curled back. "Do you love him?"

"Let me go, please," I begged, realizing with a start that Kyla was once again reaching towards my waist. He couldn't. He wouldn't. "Kyla, Kyla! Let me go! Oh god, just let me go!"

"Shut the hell up!" His slap was dizzying. My head fell back. I didn't have any fight left.