A Broken Crew

Chapter 6

Atlas sighed again. "I hurt August." He said. "I think this was back when we were both still in elementary school. I felt so lonely because everyone was so consumed with him. So I came at him. I beat him up pretty badly. His body's not very strong, and it took him so long to recover. I didn't.... I didn't want to hurt him. I just felt so neglected, and it seemed like he was the reason why." Atlas paused. "That same year he'd already gotten beat up by some other kids, and now his own brother... My parents didn't trust me after that. A few months later was when he got really sick and had to quit going to school." " I really do regret trying to hurt him. But every time I'm around them, I feel so lonely I lash out."

Grey is pretty shocked how much Atlas is like him. Both neglected and lonely, both not know how to deal with it. "You know, as for the lonely part I'd say hang with me for a while, but you do NOT want to be at my house. *Ever*." Grey doesn't even comment on the other thing Atlas said- he promised not to. But he can't help but think about the *one* time he ever tried to get attention from his father... And how badly it ended.

"Anyway, it doesn't really matter..." Atlas said. He coughed and sniffled. "I'm going to be grounded irrelevant, now that I have a cold. Can't get precious baby August sick, you know?" He wiped his nose and shivered. "Dog-gone-it, I think I have a fever. I'm talking crazy." He gave a sad laugh and coughed again.

Grey quickly unites the jacket from around his waist and puts it around Atlas. "You need to rest, Atlas." Concern colors his voice."I'm more concerned about you being sick than him. And I'm sorry, but you need to go home and rest. There is a paper mask..." He reaches in one of the jacket pockets. "Here, put this on so you don't run the risk." He pulls out a plastic wrapped paper mouth and nose mask. Just then, Grey's phone rings, so he checks it only to go pale. He quickly answers it and doesn't say a word as he listens to the drunken ranting from the other side. "HOW DARE YOU STAY AWAY, YOU UNGRATEFUL WELP! YOU HAD ONE TASK TO DO, I'VE ONLY ASKED ONE THING OF YOU AND YOU DON'T DO IT? IS THIS HOW YOU REPAY YEARS OF LIVING UNDER MY ROOF, EATING MY FOOD, WEARING CLOTHES BOUGHT WITH *MY* MONEY? IS IT? GET YOUR SLIMY, UNGRATEFUL, DISGUSTING, CRIPPLED SELF HERE *NOW*." Grey silently listens, eyes wide. When his father is finished ranting at him and has hung up, he puts his phone away and looks at Atlas, saying, "I'm sorry... I have to go."

Atlas tilted his head at him, his eyes feverish, his owl side showing through. "Well, be safe. I guess I'd better go get my scolding. Thanks for the mask. Will you be here... tomorrow? I'll come back tomorrow." He patted Grey's head gently with his wing, then slowly glided off the roof. He was barely aware due to fever, but even he knew that wasn't a good conversation. He went inside the house. No one acknowledged him. He went up into his room, feeling sick and even more lonely than before. He curled up underneath the covers, shivering and coughing and tried to sleep again.

Grey walks home, zigzagging through the streets to get to his old, run-down place. He hesitantly opens the door and slips inside, only hoping his father is asleep. He takes the bags of groceries he got while out and takes them to the kitchen to put away. But, as soon as he walks into the room, he sees his father and stops dead in his tracks. "Put it on the counter." His father growls at him, alcohol easy to smell on his breath. Shaking, Grey obeys, then, as he's turning to his father, said man whacks Grey across the face with the bottle he had in his hand. "UNGRATEFUL!" Grey whimpers and brings his hands up as if to ward off another blow, but it's futile as his father grabs Grey and throws him to the ground. Grey closes his eyes tight and waits for the beating his father is sure to give him, not making a sound. Thus, he wasn't expecting his father to grab his collar and drag him to the living room. Grey opens his eyes- a mistake, as he watches his father pulling off his belt. "Father, please! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to forget, I'll do better I promise please.." Grey makes the mistake of moving away. "AND WHO SAID YOU COULD MOVE?" One lash across Grey's legs. "NO ONE!" Another biting lash at his shoulders. "AND WHO DECIDED TO LET YOU LIVE WHEN YOU WERE DUMPED ON MY DOORSTEP?" Another lash, a kick to the face. On the ground, whimpering, biting the lip as not to make a sound. "ME!" Three more, now back facing him. "AND WHO HAS FED YOU ALL THESE YEARS WITHOUT THANKS?" More lashes, wings pulled away from back, a kick, a cry of pain. "WHO SAID YOU COULD MAKE ANY NOISE?" Yet more lashes, kicking, back to whimpering. "NO ONE, DISGUSTING, CRIPPLED BIRD!" A stomp, a sickening crack, a gasp, a lash. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU LAST TIME YOU DISOBEYED ME??" No answer, another kick, bottle to the head. "ANSWER ME!" Another stomp, another crack, a scream, it's going black. "I SAID ANSWER ME!!" Broken glass cutting, slashing, feathers torn, bloodied, black is closing in, pulling the phone out. "YOU INSOLENT WELP!!" Beating continues, barely awake, hitting the number, letting it dial, whisper a message, send, close and hide the phone, another stomp and a different crunch, nothing.

Grey has managed to send a short, audio message to the last person he had texted, August. The only thing he said was, "Help me."