What a father should be, chapter 9
Billie had sung Zach into a deep, calm sleep. He laid him down and gently curled the covers around his small shoulders. Billie rubbed his hair softly and left, walking towards the payphone and pulling out the Berkley phone book. He'd forgotten his old address. Probably because he wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. But this time, he had to go back and confront Brad. Brad had spat out lies for the last time. He'd cut Billie deep... again...
Billie Joe went downstairs and quietly opened the fridge. He prayed Brad wouldn't be awake. He was starving. Billie opened the fridge door and saw a bagel inside.
"Good enough." he muttered, and reached for it. He felt the fridge door quickly slam on his hand and he yelled and pulled it away. Brad slammed his hand over Billie's mouth and pushed him into the fridge door.
"Shut up. Get the fuck upstairs and don't come down until school's practically started. Your slut mother is in a mood. We've been fucking on the table all night and if you screw it up you'll never see another day." Brad whispered, and shoved Billie toward the door. Billie glowered and made his way upstairs. His stomach rumbled.
"Damn you to hell Brad. I fucking hate you... you son of a bitch." he hissed, before sitting on his bed. There it was again. A sickness deep in his stomach. A sickness for himself and for his life. He was suffocating again... his life was going nowhere. Billie felt it hard to breathe and when he stood up he broke into a cold sweat. He felt so confused, so alone, so awful. He hunched, clutching his stomach and dropping to the floor. Right next to his hand... scissors. Billie didn't even feel his hand reaching for them. It was instinctive, so impulsive, so intuitive that it almost came as a scent would to an animal.
Billie grabbed the scissors and slashed. He gasped as blood started to seep out from his forearm. He felt himself relax, his mind go numb and himself feeling as if he were floating. The sickness had gone. Billie felt lighter as he looked disbelievingly at the scissors like a miracle cure. He slowly cut into his skin again, but felt pain and pulled away. The first one had hurt, but slowly cutting stung him.
He felt sickness again and almost uncontrollably slashed. Blood poured over his arm and down his wrist as he sat there for a while, watching the blood flow and closing his eyes. It felt so nice... yet what he had done was so awful. It was a guilty, brilliantly soothing pleasure. An original sin of a modern kind. Billie smiled to himself and walked groggily to the bathroom, bandaging himself and then falling onto his bed, crawling underneath the covers and falling in and out of sleep.
Later that day, Billie came in from school late. He'd gotten high, and now felt an urge for the scissors. He couldn't help smiling to himself as he thought of them. He was insane, crazy, a "self mutilator" as the shrinks called it. But he still could not stop smiling. His life was crazy enough, he was screwed up enough, he might as well go along with the damn fucking stereotype. Billie walked into the kitchen, starving and not thinking straight. He had just been high, and was in a dream for the new pleasure he had discovered that morning. It wasn't until too late he saw Brad sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of bourbon.
Billie's smile immediately faded as Brad rose up from his chair, smirking yet having the same angry, drunken look in his eyes. The look that made Billie know Brad was a complete loser. A bum. The look that frustrated him the most, as Billie knew in his heart of hearts he was a thousand times better than Brad, yet he was the one getting kicked around. Brad pushed Billie slowly into the kitchen wall, bringing his face dangerously close and roughly shoving his tongue down Billie's throat. Billie dropped his plate, smashing it on the floor as Brad's hands drunkenly slid up his chest.
Billie squinted in pain and tried to look around for something to push Brad off him with. His heart beat faster as Brad slid off his jacket. Billie struggled, and Brad kneed him as hard as he could in his stomach, making Billie yell and try to double over. Brad's grip tightened on his shoulders so he couldn't. Billie felt pain creeping around in his lungs as Brad's hands threw his shirt onto the floor with a satisfied grin at his bruising.
Billie's eyes widened as he remembered his arm. There was a bandage. For a fleeting second, Billie thought maybe Brad might stop. Maybe for once, just once, Brad would give him a break. See how much he had hurt Billie and stop. It didn't take his step father long to find the bandages. Billie blushed as he started to unravel them.
"Don't!" he said, moving his hand. Brad slapped him across the face, and Billie felt his head growing warm and his mouth becoming dry. Brad saw the cuts and Billie was surprised. They were deeper than he'd remembered. Brad looked at him and then back to his arm. Billie looked intently at Brad, hoping so dearly for his face to soften and for his hands to do what Billie had longed for since his mother married him. Just to let him go. Brad instead threw Billie harshly on the floor and kicked him harder than he ever had in his back. Billie was shocked. He thought Brad would have been malicious... yes. Horrible... yes. Tease him, taunt him, use it against him... yes. But violent? Truly angry? Never...
Brad ripped open the cutlery draw and pulled out a knife. He knelt on top of Billie Joe's chest, pinning his arms down with his knees and furiously glaring at him. Billie was terrified. Brad leaned down to Billie's shaking forearm and grabbed it harshly, cutting him slowly and painfully. Billie screamed in shock, as Brad connected his fist with Billie's cheek, forcing Billie to sit up and look him in the face.
"You think you're pretty fucking clever don't you you little prick! You think that's funny. You think that'll get people noticing you. My sister cut her wrists. Yeah. You think this will break me down? Get to me?" the information shocked Billie, but the pain from Brad's abuse was unbearable. Brad was shaking him, and he didn't even know he was doing it this time. Billie's lips were shivering as Brad held his other forearm down and slashed it too.
"PLEASE STOP! I'M SORRY! I'm sorry... " he whispered, as Brad held the knife to Billie's throat and spat angrily in his face as he spoke.
"Do it again Billie. You deserve it." he added, pressing the knife harder into Billie's fragile throat. Billie's cries started to tremble, as his whole body shook and his eyes widened. He felt an urge to look at Brad. The more he did the more terrified he was, but the more he did the more he couldn't look away. He was absolutely petrified. Billie found it hard to breathe. Finally he saw Brad's face take on his same, cruel smile and sickening glint. Billie knew this was a little better than before, when he was completely out of control. Regardless, Billie was still horrified. Still shaking and traumatized as Brad still had the knife to his throat.
"You're scared of me... aren't you?" Brad laughed, as Billie continued to look him with terror. Brad grinned and pressed the knife up to Billie's throat again.
"Admit it you fucking faggot... " he whispered, pushing now on Billie's stomach as he felt him shake and gasp for air.
"I-I-I'm s-scared... scared of you... " Billie croaked painfully, before feeling Brad's hands let go of his stomach and slowly withdraw the knife. Billie burst into overwhelmed tears as Brad stood over him, now so giant. Billie curled into the fetal position and held himself. He no longer cared if Brad was looking. He'd exploited Billie enough. Billie whimpered as he felt Brad's hands curling around him and carrying him to his bed. If only he had just let him sleep. Like a real father should. Billie felt one final hit to his head then fell unconscious on his sheets once again.
He awoke sometime during the night, knowing he was naked and the most vulnerable he could be. Blood had dried on his arms but he didn't care. He felt every last bit of dignity stolen from him. He felt so stupid, so exploited, so small. Billie felt painful tears drowning his already excruciatingly real body and did the only thing he could... he pulled the covers as close as he could muster, and wrapped a security blanket around himself. He felt the tightness, and prayed nothing would ever get in as he lay there, looking at his door and feeling too weak and horribly awake to even cry anymore.
Billie stared blankly at his old address, tears spilling from his eyes and all over the paper. He leant his head against the pay phone wall and sobbed, remembering the awfulness of that night. He felt someone's hand on his shoulder and spun around, squeaking from surprise. He saw Mike and Tre standing behind him, looking concerned at his tear streaked face. His friends peered at the address scrawled in shaky handwriting on the paper in Billie's hand. Billie Joe sobbed heavier, and Mike pulled him into his chest gently, feeling Billie shake. Tre leant against the phone box and rubbed Billie's back in a way he hoped to be comforting. Mike held Billie as tight as he could without hurting him. He had never realized just how tiny Billie was until now.
"Its okay now Billie... its okay... " Mike whispered, as he continued to hold his friend. Billie allowed himself to be comforted. He'd been hurt enough to know he couldn't forget it. But he'd had enough time to gain the strength to never let it happen again. To anyone. Especially Zach. The hospital corridor was silent as Mike and Tre listened to Billie's small, frightened gasps of air and watched him bury his face into Mike's jacket. Billie tried to hide himself from them, wanting to be alone, to have that security blanket wrapped around himself. He hugged Mike tighter, and felt Mike doing the same for him. Billie whispered very softly, as it hurt him to speak. But everything was so quiet that Mike and Tre heard every word.
"Thanks... thank... thank you... I... can't... I c-can't... I love him... I l-love Z-zach... " Billie sobbed, and Mike stroked his hair soothingly.
"I know. C'mon. Let's go see him." Mike suggested, still holding Billie close to his side and turning around. Tre immediately felt an urge to join, and held Billie Joe on his other side. Billie clutched onto them weakly, and felt his legs shaking. He roughly stuffed the paper into his pocket and opened the door to Zach's room. Sitting down, Billie rested his spinning head between Mike and Tre, and felt immense support. Closing his eyes, he felt something sticking into him and pulled out the address, sitting it down on Zach's beside table.
"He's not worth it. I've left Brad behind... I'm never going back." Billie murmured, before closing his eyes, watching Zach's sleeping face with content...
but like defeat, success is only momentary...
Billie Joe went downstairs and quietly opened the fridge. He prayed Brad wouldn't be awake. He was starving. Billie opened the fridge door and saw a bagel inside.
"Good enough." he muttered, and reached for it. He felt the fridge door quickly slam on his hand and he yelled and pulled it away. Brad slammed his hand over Billie's mouth and pushed him into the fridge door.
"Shut up. Get the fuck upstairs and don't come down until school's practically started. Your slut mother is in a mood. We've been fucking on the table all night and if you screw it up you'll never see another day." Brad whispered, and shoved Billie toward the door. Billie glowered and made his way upstairs. His stomach rumbled.
"Damn you to hell Brad. I fucking hate you... you son of a bitch." he hissed, before sitting on his bed. There it was again. A sickness deep in his stomach. A sickness for himself and for his life. He was suffocating again... his life was going nowhere. Billie felt it hard to breathe and when he stood up he broke into a cold sweat. He felt so confused, so alone, so awful. He hunched, clutching his stomach and dropping to the floor. Right next to his hand... scissors. Billie didn't even feel his hand reaching for them. It was instinctive, so impulsive, so intuitive that it almost came as a scent would to an animal.
Billie grabbed the scissors and slashed. He gasped as blood started to seep out from his forearm. He felt himself relax, his mind go numb and himself feeling as if he were floating. The sickness had gone. Billie felt lighter as he looked disbelievingly at the scissors like a miracle cure. He slowly cut into his skin again, but felt pain and pulled away. The first one had hurt, but slowly cutting stung him.
He felt sickness again and almost uncontrollably slashed. Blood poured over his arm and down his wrist as he sat there for a while, watching the blood flow and closing his eyes. It felt so nice... yet what he had done was so awful. It was a guilty, brilliantly soothing pleasure. An original sin of a modern kind. Billie smiled to himself and walked groggily to the bathroom, bandaging himself and then falling onto his bed, crawling underneath the covers and falling in and out of sleep.
Later that day, Billie came in from school late. He'd gotten high, and now felt an urge for the scissors. He couldn't help smiling to himself as he thought of them. He was insane, crazy, a "self mutilator" as the shrinks called it. But he still could not stop smiling. His life was crazy enough, he was screwed up enough, he might as well go along with the damn fucking stereotype. Billie walked into the kitchen, starving and not thinking straight. He had just been high, and was in a dream for the new pleasure he had discovered that morning. It wasn't until too late he saw Brad sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of bourbon.
Billie's smile immediately faded as Brad rose up from his chair, smirking yet having the same angry, drunken look in his eyes. The look that made Billie know Brad was a complete loser. A bum. The look that frustrated him the most, as Billie knew in his heart of hearts he was a thousand times better than Brad, yet he was the one getting kicked around. Brad pushed Billie slowly into the kitchen wall, bringing his face dangerously close and roughly shoving his tongue down Billie's throat. Billie dropped his plate, smashing it on the floor as Brad's hands drunkenly slid up his chest.
Billie squinted in pain and tried to look around for something to push Brad off him with. His heart beat faster as Brad slid off his jacket. Billie struggled, and Brad kneed him as hard as he could in his stomach, making Billie yell and try to double over. Brad's grip tightened on his shoulders so he couldn't. Billie felt pain creeping around in his lungs as Brad's hands threw his shirt onto the floor with a satisfied grin at his bruising.
Billie's eyes widened as he remembered his arm. There was a bandage. For a fleeting second, Billie thought maybe Brad might stop. Maybe for once, just once, Brad would give him a break. See how much he had hurt Billie and stop. It didn't take his step father long to find the bandages. Billie blushed as he started to unravel them.
"Don't!" he said, moving his hand. Brad slapped him across the face, and Billie felt his head growing warm and his mouth becoming dry. Brad saw the cuts and Billie was surprised. They were deeper than he'd remembered. Brad looked at him and then back to his arm. Billie looked intently at Brad, hoping so dearly for his face to soften and for his hands to do what Billie had longed for since his mother married him. Just to let him go. Brad instead threw Billie harshly on the floor and kicked him harder than he ever had in his back. Billie was shocked. He thought Brad would have been malicious... yes. Horrible... yes. Tease him, taunt him, use it against him... yes. But violent? Truly angry? Never...
Brad ripped open the cutlery draw and pulled out a knife. He knelt on top of Billie Joe's chest, pinning his arms down with his knees and furiously glaring at him. Billie was terrified. Brad leaned down to Billie's shaking forearm and grabbed it harshly, cutting him slowly and painfully. Billie screamed in shock, as Brad connected his fist with Billie's cheek, forcing Billie to sit up and look him in the face.
"You think you're pretty fucking clever don't you you little prick! You think that's funny. You think that'll get people noticing you. My sister cut her wrists. Yeah. You think this will break me down? Get to me?" the information shocked Billie, but the pain from Brad's abuse was unbearable. Brad was shaking him, and he didn't even know he was doing it this time. Billie's lips were shivering as Brad held his other forearm down and slashed it too.
"PLEASE STOP! I'M SORRY! I'm sorry... " he whispered, as Brad held the knife to Billie's throat and spat angrily in his face as he spoke.
"Do it again Billie. You deserve it." he added, pressing the knife harder into Billie's fragile throat. Billie's cries started to tremble, as his whole body shook and his eyes widened. He felt an urge to look at Brad. The more he did the more terrified he was, but the more he did the more he couldn't look away. He was absolutely petrified. Billie found it hard to breathe. Finally he saw Brad's face take on his same, cruel smile and sickening glint. Billie knew this was a little better than before, when he was completely out of control. Regardless, Billie was still horrified. Still shaking and traumatized as Brad still had the knife to his throat.
"You're scared of me... aren't you?" Brad laughed, as Billie continued to look him with terror. Brad grinned and pressed the knife up to Billie's throat again.
"Admit it you fucking faggot... " he whispered, pushing now on Billie's stomach as he felt him shake and gasp for air.
"I-I-I'm s-scared... scared of you... " Billie croaked painfully, before feeling Brad's hands let go of his stomach and slowly withdraw the knife. Billie burst into overwhelmed tears as Brad stood over him, now so giant. Billie curled into the fetal position and held himself. He no longer cared if Brad was looking. He'd exploited Billie enough. Billie whimpered as he felt Brad's hands curling around him and carrying him to his bed. If only he had just let him sleep. Like a real father should. Billie felt one final hit to his head then fell unconscious on his sheets once again.
He awoke sometime during the night, knowing he was naked and the most vulnerable he could be. Blood had dried on his arms but he didn't care. He felt every last bit of dignity stolen from him. He felt so stupid, so exploited, so small. Billie felt painful tears drowning his already excruciatingly real body and did the only thing he could... he pulled the covers as close as he could muster, and wrapped a security blanket around himself. He felt the tightness, and prayed nothing would ever get in as he lay there, looking at his door and feeling too weak and horribly awake to even cry anymore.
Billie stared blankly at his old address, tears spilling from his eyes and all over the paper. He leant his head against the pay phone wall and sobbed, remembering the awfulness of that night. He felt someone's hand on his shoulder and spun around, squeaking from surprise. He saw Mike and Tre standing behind him, looking concerned at his tear streaked face. His friends peered at the address scrawled in shaky handwriting on the paper in Billie's hand. Billie Joe sobbed heavier, and Mike pulled him into his chest gently, feeling Billie shake. Tre leant against the phone box and rubbed Billie's back in a way he hoped to be comforting. Mike held Billie as tight as he could without hurting him. He had never realized just how tiny Billie was until now.
"Its okay now Billie... its okay... " Mike whispered, as he continued to hold his friend. Billie allowed himself to be comforted. He'd been hurt enough to know he couldn't forget it. But he'd had enough time to gain the strength to never let it happen again. To anyone. Especially Zach. The hospital corridor was silent as Mike and Tre listened to Billie's small, frightened gasps of air and watched him bury his face into Mike's jacket. Billie tried to hide himself from them, wanting to be alone, to have that security blanket wrapped around himself. He hugged Mike tighter, and felt Mike doing the same for him. Billie whispered very softly, as it hurt him to speak. But everything was so quiet that Mike and Tre heard every word.
"Thanks... thank... thank you... I... can't... I c-can't... I love him... I l-love Z-zach... " Billie sobbed, and Mike stroked his hair soothingly.
"I know. C'mon. Let's go see him." Mike suggested, still holding Billie close to his side and turning around. Tre immediately felt an urge to join, and held Billie Joe on his other side. Billie clutched onto them weakly, and felt his legs shaking. He roughly stuffed the paper into his pocket and opened the door to Zach's room. Sitting down, Billie rested his spinning head between Mike and Tre, and felt immense support. Closing his eyes, he felt something sticking into him and pulled out the address, sitting it down on Zach's beside table.
"He's not worth it. I've left Brad behind... I'm never going back." Billie murmured, before closing his eyes, watching Zach's sleeping face with content...
but like defeat, success is only momentary...
