Fall

Chapter 7

I stared at Alex, with sympathy in my eyes.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up." I apologized, moving off his lap and sitting on the bed next to him.

"You didn't. I did." He said, putting an arm around my waist.

"Yeah, but I didn't know and-"

"Brynna." Alex interrupted me.

"What?" I asked him.

"It's fine. Hardly anybody knows that anyways." He laid back on my bed, his arms behind his head.

"Hardly anybody?" I asked him.

"Yep." His one word response took me aback.

We didn't speak for a few minutes. Mainly because I was scared of the topic. Death is a big deal. I can't imagine it being easy for him to talk about. But the more we sat there in silence, the more I wondered what happened. The question was on the tip of my tongue for a long time, and just as I was about to ask it, he spoke.

"Just ask it, Brynna." Alex said, almost as if he read my mind. He propped himself up on his elbows to look at me.

"Ask what?" I tried to act like I didn't know what he was talking about.

"What happened." He replied. I hesitated for a while before replying.

"Okay." I sighed. "It has been bugging me since you brought it up..." I admitted to him. "What happened?" I finally asked him. We sat there for a couple minutes and I assume he was gathering his thoughts.

"You really wanna know?" He asked me. He sat up fully to look me in the eyes. We stared at each other for a while before I slightly nodded my head. He sighed.

"My dad," he vaguely said, hardly audible. He then cleared his throat, and said it louder. "After I was born, he started disappearing for a night or two at a time a couple times a week. Maybe once, twice, or even three times." He stared down at his hands, and nowhere else. "He was hardly ever around to help my mom take care of me. That happened up until I was about 9. Then when I was about 10, he was home almost 24/7, besides work. He hardly ever left his recliner in the living room. He started doing drugs and drinking really badly, almost uncontrollably, inside the house and mostly around me. My mom was scared of him, and scared that'd he'd hurt us. She had a reason though, because then he started to get abusive, and then she became really scared of him. She started picking up extra shifts at work so she wouldn't have to come home to him, leaving me alone with him at the house - which she hated doing, but she had no other choice. But then he started getting angry when she wasn't home, cause "he'd have to take care of me all by himself". By this time, he had quit his job and demanded she quit hers too. We had no income, and she felt so... Threatened by him. She did everything he asked. Always." His voice became softer and I could barely hear him. "He hit us all the time." He sniffled a little bit and looked up at my ceiling. "That son of a bitch just smacked us around whenever he felt like it, and sometimes for absolutely no reason at all." Emotionally, he did a 180°. He turned angry. I looked down at his clenched fists to see bright white knuckles and red marks over his palms. I took my hand and rubbed his back.

"You don't have to continue." I told him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Yes, Brynna. I do. If we're gonna be friends, then you should know the truth about me." He spoke loudly.

The truth about him would finally come out. I would finally know the answer to all the questions everybody has been asking for almost four years now. I was eager to hear this information, but also felt the complete opposite at the same time. I could tell this was a very touchy subject for him, and I mean it would be for anybody who has suffered from abuse. But, Alex doesn't cry. And from hearing the cracking in his voice while speaking on this subject, you could tell he was about to cry multiple times. All I felt was sympathy for him.