Alleyway BxB

XXX (Prison)

SUNDAY, 28 OCTOBER
NATHAN COVINGTON

The entire prison had the personality of a slice of white bread and I hated myself for being there. Exactly two weeks ago, I told myself that I was done with him, but look at how long that lasted.

Emptying my pockets into the locker, I nearly slammed it shut. It was as if the world was trying to disown me at this point. It surprised me with a couple of good things—Marcello, a won court case, freedom from my troubled father—but then, they smacked me right back with a cheating allegation and a sober, yet suicidal man handcuffed to a hospital bed in a prison ward.

Maybe I could trick myself into believing that I came here to pry out some closure or maybe I would discuss what would happen to the house and where he was going to go when he was released.

But it was wrong.

Sure, I would mention all those things but as much as I despised the man for everything he's done to Matt and I, there was still this sliver of sympathy left. When I got the call, I didn't hate him anymore. It was Mom all over again, but it was just anger instead of grief and I had no one else to share it with. Not even Matt because he barely seemed to care at all.

I came back to the house a mess that morning. A huge mess. Everyone thought Marcello and I had broken up, but they weren't far off. It wasn't like we were doing well either. The entire situation was suffocating, and the pressure was too much to handle without Marcello. It wasn't like I didn't believe what he had said, but I was just done for the night. I had already come to terms with how nothing in my life was going to be perfect anyway.

"Look at that," I sighed as I grabbed a chair and brought it to his bed side. "At least you're not black out drunk." As I settled in, I noted the lack of expression on his face and the fresh bruising that rung around his neck. There was an absence of alcohol in the air and I smelt some soap on him instead.

That was a good thing about being in prison. They kept him sober.

"Getting me locked up in here wasn't enough for you?" He didn't turn to look at me, just continued to stare out through the barred window. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Still aggressive. Nothing new.

I didn't expect anything else. "I got a call that you tried to kill yourself this morning."

He scoffed. "Brilliant."

"You need help, and this is what we happened to come down to."

"I don't need help-"

"You're a depressed, homophobic, abusive, alcoholic asshole who just tried to hang himself with a bedsheet. You need a lot of help."

Anyone who punches their own children needs help.

"There isn't much left for me here, is there?" He spat. "I don't see why you would care."

"I shouldn't," I agreed, kept my cool. "No one does, actually." Everyone I could think of was angry with him—his parents, brothers, sisters, anyone who knew about it. At the party, no one even dared to mention him. "I'm all you have left. Right now, I really don't like you, but that's beside the point."

I didn't want to give up.

This man played a huge part in my life, shaped my aspirations for my future. I was super close to Dad before the incident with Mom. The past two years had been horrible and degrading, but I refused to let the other sixteen years go to waste. Maybe he wasn't the hero I always saw him to be and I was finally experiencing the cold shoulder Matt had experienced his entire life. It was a stretch, but I wanted to believe that he could be saved.