Jail Birds

A Real Fight

**Dylans POV

Hi! Quick note, I just want to know y'all s reaction to Zeros dream, or just the series in general. Thank you!

**physical abuse and derogatory names towards my LGBT pals**

"Hey Zero!" I say, happily bouncing up the steps.

"Hey kid" he says, but not in his normal tone. He sounds like a sad horn.

When I get to his cell, he looks glum and swollen, like something hit his mental health to a sad low. He sits on his crooked bed, tucked away in the corner with his head in his hands.

"Is everything alright?" I ask.

"Not exactly kiddo. But I guess that not really anything to worry about, is it?" He hands me a smile accompanied with a small laugh. I don't take the bait.

"No Zero, what's wrong?"

"Its really not anything."

"Don't lie to me Zero. What happened?"

"Nothing alright!" He snaps, untucking himself  from his ball. I'm taken aback, I know he's not feeling well but did he really have to snap?

Suddenly, he notices how he affected me and goes back. "I- I just really needed you yesterday." He whispers, putting his head in his hands. Running his fingers through his hair before gripping muliple locks of greasy abyss in his hands.

"Oh." That's all I can really say. Is that why he's so sad? Am I the cause of it? " I'm- I'm sorry. I was tutoring someone named Caysey and just-"

"I don't wanna hear your fucking excuses. The fact is, is that you weren't here when I needed you. Alright?" He jerks. The phrase seems to cause him to lean his head against the wall and let out a sigh.

"I'm so sorry. I really am. I didn't know that you needed me yesterday. I-" a thought occurs to me. Instead of rambling like a complete idiot, I could just ask how's he's doing "are-are you ok?"

"What the fuck do you think genius?" He says with such venom behind it, it makes me want to cry.

"Well what happened?" I say, silently cursing the fact that my voice cracked.

"Well, all it was, was a nightmare. Nothing too special." 

"Please tell me what actully happened in the nightmare?"

He looks at me for a good few seconds before sighing and turning away. He shakes his head.

"Zero pleas just tell me-"

"What are you, my fucking mom?" He gets up. "It isn't any of your fucking business, alright? You keep you're mother fucking personal shit to yourself and you think you're so great at hiding it! Well news flash smart ass, you aren't! I know when your dad does to you! And I know how it fucking affects you! I know how much you hate him, but yet you don't want to loose him! I fucking know alright!" Zero breaths heavily. His breath drops onto the floor, making a sound of an exhaling lung.

I want to cry. I feel the stinging sensation in the back of my throat. "How the hell did my relationship with my dad hit tied into this?" I croak, my voice cracking at every other word. Finally, a tear escapes.

"I- I-" he breaths. Both of our breath are in unison. "I just, I need a fucking breath of fresh air." He sighs.

"Yea, I think I do too." I say, doing something way out of my comfort zone, I start to leave.

"Wait, no! Dylan please come back!" He pleads. I continue walking. "I didn't mean it! I'm not in the right mind space!"

I walk out the two crappy enforced doors.

-.-

"Hey mom! I'm home!" say, opening up the door.

"Dylan, come in here! We need to have a talk." My dads booming voice bellows from the kitchen. My stomach drops and my eyes go wild, hoping to find and thing that can save me.

I walk into the modern kitchen to a grizzly looking man holding a beer bottle. My knees tremble.

"Sit down son." He gestures to the seat next to him.

I do as he asks and I sit down in the old dining room chair.

As soon as I get comfortable, he grabs me by my earlobe and smashes my head down to the table with so much force, my head spins. He hits me right across my my temple, from the corner of my eye to about an inch above my ear. He lets go a second later after my head makes contact with the wood.

"Now, you will not, and I fucking repeat, you will not see that boy ever again. Will you?" He looks at me.

I hold my head, regaining my balance, and cringing.

"I asked you a fucking question! I demand you answer boy! You're really fucking testing me." He yells. Grabbing my earlobe once again and smashing my head against the wood. Hitting the already-bruising wound.

"Yes dad!" I cry out.

"Yes dad what?!"

"I promise I won't see him again! Not ever!" I hold my throbbing head, I can hear the blood rushing to fix it.

"Good you fucking fag. Now get the hell out of here. I am not raising a fucking fairy."

I run out of there, holding my head as I trot vigorously up the stairs to my room. Once I get there, I close the door and lean against it. I slowly remove my hand that's cradling the right side of my head. My normal pale skin is now covered in blood. The stinging pain now erupted in my head due to the coldness of my room. After a couple minutes of scrambling to find a shirt I don't care for, I press the summer camp themed shirt to my head. Soaking up any of the blood that's left. The tears now dried up except for a few strains, I make my way towards the bathroom to inspect how deep of a wound it is.

-.-

I look into the mirror and inspect the gash, it doesn't seem too deep. But it is a pretty good battle wound. I decide to take a shower, seems as though I'm long due for one.

I peel off my clothes and stare into the mirror. The lack of muscles want to make me puke, and the amount of bones that stick out doesn't help any. I could stare and critique my body all day, but that would just be a waste of time. So I decide to step into a warm water. The sound and the feeling soothes me. The hundreds of water drops hitting the plastic lining of the tub sounds almost like music. Having done it time and time again I've made a melody to it. But it never keeps beat.

-.-

I step out of the tub to find the steam filled room just the way it always is. I wipe the mirror, causing small water droplets run down the smooth surface, just to reveal a messed up looking teenager.