Don't You Dare Tell Anyone Mr. Stevens

The Unspeakable

I look at the bruise on my arm and sigh. She squeezed it hard and now it stung. At least I can cover my bruise. Hers will be the size of my first with the imprint of my name on her face. Literally. I wore the ring with my name carved into it today. I smile at the thought of her walking into school on Monday with my name scribbled across her face. I think I want to cry. I want to feel the tears rushing down my face like rain and I want to taste the salt when it hits my lips. I want to let emotion come pouring out of me and I want to scream from the top of my lungs. She almost said it; she almost told him. I don't know what I would have done had she told him. That's exactly what I need someone to look at me like I'm weak or some crippled little defenseless innocent thing. Or look at me like I'm an outsider. Because that is what I really need right now. To be alienated to have everyone know my secret. They would take Ben away and shove me in some homeless school for morbid teenagers that have attempted suicide. I didn't want to be there just as much as the next guy.

"Hey!" I hear and a hand falls upon my shoulder. I gasp for air as it has completely left my lungs. My bruise is pulsing now. I can feel the warm blood rush through the veins that are there. It stings and burns all at the same time. I look at Riley who just seems lost. Even more lost then I used to feel. More lost than when I was ten shoved in a closet and wondered where my mother was and why she didn't help me. Lost and thought why did they hate me and wondered why it had to me in confinement and not someone who truly deserved it. Marcus called it discipline I called it insanity.

"I'm sorry" I say and his face instantly softens but slowly. I didn't expect to sound so high pitched or like a child. I didn't expect to feel so vulnerable. I talked the way I did when I would come home late from school and Marcus was in his chair with a whisky bottle and white powder on the coffee table. I know now exactly what he was doing.

"I don't like her very much" I say and try not to stutter. I turn around and begin to walk.

He runs to catch up to me.

I'm walking to fast I can tell. I think I might loose my balance.

I stop because he has my arm in his hand but it didn't hurt the way it did when Madeline grabbed me it just felt tingly.

"How did this happen?" he asks. I take my arm back and slowly force the sleeve down.

"I'm fine it's nothing it was an accident" I say and continue to walk.

"What was she talking about? Why did she mention your parents?" he asks. There goes the stabbing pain in my heart. My eyes squeeze shut hard for a moment then open up again. I can't tell him and he can't know. But all he is going to do is ask so the only thing to do is steer him away.

"I don't want to talk about it" I say and look at him.

"But are you alright why did she bring up your dad?" he asks and I shoot him a look. "My father is unspeakable" I say and look away "I don't talk about him. Ever" I repeat.

I remind myself to steer away. "Listen I have to go now. I think its better if for your sake you stay away from me from now on" I say and cross the street without looking back. I hate Marcus. In a way this is his fault if he wasn't the way he was and he didn't let people find out I could be normal I wouldn't have to lie or deprive myself of actually having more than two friends. I hate Madeline for opening her mouth. May when she ages her bags only get bigger her hair whiter and less teeth rotting wrinkles deeper and skin shaggier. I know now after trying. I can never have any other friends again not ever. I yank my sleeve down harder until it pasts my wrists. That's better.