Chapter Text
It started off as any other awful day.
I didn’t think I’d end up with so much blood on my hands.
—
My phone’s alarm woke me and I started getting ready for school. Once I was dressed with my teeth totally and hair mostly brushed, I scrounged for my school supplies and shoved them in my bag. Yesterday’s homework not done and my novel for English still half damp.
Thanks, Keith.
With a sigh, I remember that Dad told me to clean up in here. My room is decent-ish. Most of the room being taken over by the bed, dresser, clothes on the floor, and all of Dad’s old band posters on the walls.
After a look towards Mom’s picture on my nightstand, I shrug on my bag and walk out to the hall.
Judith is always awake after me so I immediately go towards her room. Opening the door I’m greeted with her smile and the grabby motions of her hands.
Some days Judy is the only thing that can make me smile.
With a grin to match hers I say, “Good morning, sleepy head.” and lift her out of her crib. I blow a raspberry on her cheek and she gives a responding shriek of laughter. After giving her a change and a plushie to occupy her, I walk with her in my arms downstairs to the kitchen. I use one hand to tuck in a corner of my bandage.
I see that Dad is already there leaning on the kitchen counter with his coffee. I walk around him, placing my bag onto a stool, to get to the cabinets. After preparing Judy’s bottle and I’m shaking it, he finally realizes I’m there and gives a belated, “Good morning.”
“Morning” I responded.
Sometimes my Dad will be in this sort of daze when he’s stressed and left alone for too long. I would ask him about it but I don’t think he knows he does it.
“Daryl-” He says with the roll of a stiff shoulder, “is taking you to school.”
I sigh, “Yeah, yeah.” It’s annoying never being trusted to walk by myself; but as long as it keeps me away from Keith and his goons I’m all for it.
Dad knows what my sigh means and responds to it, “Carl, you know I only do it ‘cause I care about you.”
“I know.”
“Any other kid would be happy to be driven to school.”
“It’s just-”, my nose scrunched up in distaste, “his truck always smells like cigarettes and then I always smell like cigarettes; and the teachers keep pulling me aside to tell me, ‘Say no to tobacco.’”
Dad gives me a chuckle and rubs at his clean shaven chin, “Well, as long as he doesn’t smoke while he’s driving you, you have no room to complain.”
I feel a small fist tugging at my hair and finally reach down to give Judy the bottle.
—
Dad leaves for the station as Olivia arrives to care for Judy. She makes me scrambled eggs and bacon that I can’t say no to, as well as a sandwich for lunch. She starts up her usual small talk with me and her baby talk with Judy. I think she never asks me personal questions out of pity.
I leave Judy with her once I hear Daryl hit his horn twice.
Walking down the driveway I feel the pricking of my skin as I’m surrounded by the chill autumn air.
Opening the passenger side of the truck I place my bag on the floor and close the door behind me. Pulling on my seatbelt I greet Daryl with a, “Morning.”
“Mornin’”, he replied back and starts driving.
Daryl isn’t as talkative as Olivia, which most days I’m grateful for. But Daryl notices things more. All the time he spends not talking he uses observing. It can get annoying sometimes.
“Is Keith still messin’ with you?”
Daryl is the only one that’s found out about my bully and I don’t know how. I always make sure Keith isn’t following me when I leave school and it’s easy to hide the things he breaks.
“No.”, technically it’s not a lie since Keith isn’t here.
Daryl grunts, “I meant anytime recently.”
I fold my arms and fall further into my seat.
“Don’t they have those policies at your school for this type of shit?”
“It’s fine. I’m handling it.”
“Sure as shit you are. How many of your things have you ‘accidentally’ broken?” He says sarcastically and takes a glance at me, “Don’t think I don’t notice.”
Reluctantly I reply, “It’s fine. He doesn’t do anything else.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t try ‘nd do anything else…I know people like that kid. You give ‘im any type of leeway and he’ll sink his teeth inta ‘ya.”
“I’ve already tried telling the teachers. It just makes it worse.”
“Well then just sock ‘em.”
I form a small smile, “The teachers or the kid?”
Daryl grins along with me, “The kid.”
I like how Daryl solves his problems. He just hits people and it all works out. I’ve been trying to tame my anger and not lash out on Keith because I know that my Dad would freak if I got in a fight at school. I know I can protect myself. I hate having to make myself a doormat to please my Dad. He always wants me to give people the benefit of the doubt but I don’t think most people deserve that much.
—
We pull up to the school and before I step out Daryl reminds me.
“Do you got your buzzer thing?”
I roll my eyes at the idiocy of carrying it, “Yeah, yeah.” It was Dad’s idea. Apparently after I’ve been shot twice and almost assaulted, a glorified rape whistle is the best he can get. Daryl did offer to teach me some dirty fighting as self defense, but of course Dad said no.
Daryl gives a grunt as a goodbye before driving away.
With a sigh I look up towards the hell hole I will be spending the next seven hours in.
—
As I’m grabbing my needed books out of my locker I hear Keith and his goons meandering down the hall. I unconsciously tense up and hide my face further behind the locker door.
“Hey, Carl!”
Shit.
“Hey, Carl! Carl! Carl!” Keith pig hollers at me as his goons jeer alongside him. They start banging on my locker and I flinch back from the sound, “You thought I wouldn’t see you didn’t cha?” Keith sneers. His chestnut hair ridiculously big and hazel eyes twinkling with bad intentions.
“Hey, Carl. Smile for Snapchat.”
“Tell me, Carl. What’s more depressing than the fact that you’re alive?”
“Come on dude. When are you gonna come out your fag closet?”
As they’re yelling at me and tossing me around like a hacky sack the bell for the first period rings.
“Hey, twerps. Get to class.” Mr. Rhee yells and finally gets the group to scram. But not without some sarcastic, ‘Yes, teacher’s that leave their mouths.
As Keith’s walking away he looks over his shoulder and says, “See you later, Carl.” before turning at the corner of the hallway.
Relieved , I turn towards the only other person besides Daryl who stands up for me, “Thank you, Mr. Rhee.”
“No problem, Carl. Let me know if they do anything else.”
“Will do.” I lie as always, “See you seventh period.”
He nods before heading back into his class.
—
The school day creeps by slowly. Keith’s too dumb to be in any of my classes so that’s the only good thing. Other than that I’ve had meaningless video notes and in class essays to work through. When the bell for lunch tolls I go to switch my books out of my locker, before heading outside.
I get to the spot behind the gym with the rusted and forgotten practice mounds and bleachers. I see the person I was looking for already seated there.
“Enid.”
She looks away from her book and glances up at me.
I slightly raise my brown bag lunch asking, “Wanna trade?”
She gives me a blink of approval before bookmarking her page and reaching for her lunch bag. After our session of mock bartering we settle down to eat.
It’s nice sitting with her. It may be a little bit awkward due to our previous love triangle, and where Ron is now, but it’s not unbearable. We watch the durst swirl into little devils as we sit in silence.
Enid tells me between bites of Goldfish, “I visited Ron a couple days ago.” Her voice is the same low timber but with an undercurrent of trembling hesitance.
“Oh, you did?” I say these empty words in an effort to break the uneasy tension.
“He looks better now.”
It’s easy to talk with Enid about the things that aren’t usually easy for me to say. Due to how we’ve both dealt with equally fucked up shit; and our connection through Ron. It’s still hard admitting anything to her, but at least it all comes out sooner or later.
Enid opens her mouth to say something else but we’re interrupted by, “Hey, Carl. Don’t think you can hide your faggotry with this chick with a dick.”
Keith can mess with me all he wants, but dragging Enid into it is crossing the line. I stand up and glare at him, “Knock it off, Keith.”
“Ooooooooh, shit! Little fag’s got some little ball’s after all!”, Keith laughs as he motions for his goons to get closer, “You’re always hiding Carl. In your locker, behind Rhee, in the truck of that trailer trash, behind your ‘friend’,” he takes one step closer with each comment, “and behind that ratty bandage.”
I clench my hands into fists as I stand my ground.
“We all know what happened during the summer. Might as well put the freak show on display.”
The two guys with him dash up to me and grab my arms. I managed to elbow one of them, but end up trapped anyway. I struggle but succumb to their hold when Keith socks me in the stomach. As Keith cracks his knuckles and smirks to himself, I turn and gasp, “Enid, go.” Through the hair in my eye I see her shakily get up before rushing away, towards the main buildings.
“Silly, silly, Carl. We ain’t into dykes like you are.” he struts back and forth in front of me, “You know, I could have a lot of fun beating the shit out of you.” He looks at me through the corners of his eyes, hazel burning into charcoal, “But I know something better.”
Before I can comprehend his hand rushes at my face before quickly yanking it back. His grip unroots some strands of my hair and, most distressing to me, my bandage.
I feel and hear a buzz in my ears. I can’t concentrate on anything. Shame and anger welling up so deeply inside of me I can barely breathe. Fingers go to feel my exposed eye socket and I break.
The arms of the boys aren’t holding me back anymore. Yelling is white noise, screaming my encouragement.
I don’t know who’s screaming.
All I know is red.
red
Red
RED
—-
When I fully come to, I'm sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The armed officer of the school campus is standing and staring back at me. I look to the right and see the principal’s office. The dean is rubbing her fingers together as the principal holds the landline to his ear, face covered in sweat.
“Your son has seriously assaulted another student.”
My hands feel weird. Cold but not clammy. Sticky. Looking down, my hands are splattered in red. Skin, wrinkles, nails all caked in red.