Crossing Paths

Chapter 18

Kayden

I didn't want to face Tyson. I didn't want to explain things to Thomas and Marian. I didn't want to do anything. My go to response in those situations is usually to isolate myself and pretend like the outside world doesn't exist, maybe find a few things to punch too. There was one time when I was younger that both of my parents were absolutely wasted, and their fighting had gotten more physical than normal. I could hear my mother's screams of pain, and I knew that the right thing to do was try to help her. 

But I was also 12-years-old. And since I wasn't itching to take her place, I decided to just act like it wasn't happening. At first, I tried to lock myself in my room and read a book. I didn't have a phone or a tv, so it was basically my only option. But that didn't block out the noise, and eventually the cries of her begging my father to stop were causing my ears to ring. So I grabbed my soccer ball out of my closet and crept down the stairs. When you lived in an unsafe house, one of the first things you learned was how to sneak around without your parents hearing you. 

Without making a sound, I was able to stalk into the kitchen, past the commotion that was going on in the living room, and sneak out of the back door. It was late at night and we lived in a rundown neighborhood with next to no street lighting, but I was able to make out the shed multiple yards away from our house. 

Not knowing what to do but needing to get rid of all my excess anger and anxiety, I repeatedly kicked the ball as hard as I could at the side of the old, moldy shed. I didn't know how long I was doing it, but by the time I was finished my toes were numb from the cold and one of the walls had caved in. 

It was one of the first times I had chosen aggression over dealing with my problems. And it wasn't the last time either. There was something therapeutic about letting loose and taking your anger out on inanimate objects that wouldn't fight back. So after that point, whenever something happened in my life that I didn't feel like dealing with, I'd find whatever was within my reach and I would go to town on it. 

One time I ended up sitting in the middle of our kitchen floor, surrounded by a bunch of shattered glass plates. Another time I ended up trashing my entire room before I was able to get myself back under control. 

Whenever there was an issue in my life that needed to be taken care of, I always chose violence as a way to distract myself instead of actually dealing with it. It was a pattern. It was created due to circumstances that weren't my fault, but I was the one who had let it get out of control. I was the one who continually made unhealthy decisions, knowing full well that it wasn't going to help in the end. 

But not anymore. Now that I knew how much my self destructive behavior was hurting my brother, it needed to stop. I needed to stop. And the only way that was going to happen was if I actually started admitting that I had issues. Big issues. I couldn't hide from them anymore. Before I knew it, I found myself walking slowly down the stairs, feeling as though I wasn't even in control of my own body. I turned the corner to find Marian and Thomas sitting at the kitchen table. Marian looked shaken up and Thomas was holding her hands gently, his shoulders taut. Tyson wasn't with them, but if their shocked demeanor was any indicator, he had definitely already talked to them. Since I had come down so quietly, they didn't even notice my presence until I was standing right in front of them. 

No words really needed to be said. We took one look at each and came to the same conclusion: I had some serious explaining to do. 

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice quiet and unsteady. I didn't know what he had told them, but I'm sure it wasn't good. 

"We told him to go downstairs... said he should play some video games to try and cool off." Thomas explained quietly, tossing a glance over his shoulder towards the basement. I nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything.