(no subject)
I bring you "Honey?"
I opened an eyelid. My parents were standing over me. Time to act cool.
"Mm, what?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah." I shifted to get a better look at them. "Aside from the broken shoulder and all. Did you know that I can't play
the drums now? It really sucks. The doctor who told me was ok, though. He likes the Circle Jerks."
"That's...nice."
"Yeah." I stretched my right arm, flexing my fingers and studying them closely. "Good thing I'm right handed, I guess."
The looked at me and I looked at them. I really couldn't think of anything to say at that point. I blinked.
"Well, another three days." My mother offered, smiling. "We are worried about you, you know. We are your
parents..."
"I know." I licked my lips nervously. "Awkward...isn't this?"
We were a little detached for family. My dad shrugged and left; my mom hung around and we tried to make small talk,
but it just wouldn't come. She kept looking at my left arm, stroking it and calling me her poor baby. I couldn't stand
that; I was having a hard time sorting things out...there really wasn't a lot of room in my head for feeling sorry for
myself.
The chain of events was being strung together. Alex had told me most of what had happened, as he kept showing up to
talk. He wouldn't be comfortable around me and refused to meet my eye.
"Well," he had begun, "I was trying to escape, head over the Attleboro line before calling Drake, then convince him to
drive me out of the state. Not a very good plan, eh?"
I shrugged. Alex slicked down his hair.
"But, I got locked up...for a long time. I tried counting the days, but I must have lost a day somewhere along the line. I
really was aiming to be gone before you got back -- "
"Why would you do that?" I blurted out. "Did you honestly thing that I wouldn't worry?"
"Well...no..."
"Great. Continue."
"Managed to pry open the window, swing out onto the ledge, then I slipped, got a hold of trim, tore it off and fell." He
sat a little straighter. "I only got a sprained ankle though.
"They heard...so, naturally, they came outside."
"Alex -- "
"That's all I'm going to tell you." He stood, picking up his sweatshirt. "I don't care what you think, you don't need to
know anymore than that."
"Alex -- "
"Besides, you would like that, wouldn't you? Some sick fantasy, having some guy cry all over you, his eyeliner running
-- "
"Where the hell did that come from?"
" -- while you get pleasure in it all, because it fixes your problems to feel superior -- "
"HEY!"
" -- to someone like me. Really, is that why you follow me, you fucking whore?"
I shrank back as he glared at me. It must had been the narcotics, but otherwise, I could have sworn I could feel his
anger writhing in the air. It was disgusting and perverted and completely aimed at me. That was one hell of an insult
right there.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat as he stormed out. I wanted to cry, badly, but I refused to sob over being
insulted. I had more pride than that. If he was going to act that way, then, fine, he could come crawling back if he ever
wanted to see me again.
o-o-o
Drake somehow managed to come and see me. He smiled as he plunked the vase full of poppies (he said it was more
fitting than roses, I think they were just cheaper) in front of me, humming under his breath.
I twisted the hospital sheet with my good hand as he pulled up a seat.
"I know," he raised his hands, "I must be the last person on earth you want to see, but, hey, I care and it's the thought
that counts."
"Honestly, I would just rather pay you to beat some sense into that friend of yours."
"Actually," he grinned sheepishly, "I'm kind of here on his behalf. Without him knowing, heh, yeah."
"Whatever."
Drake frowned suddenly. "Don't act like you're the only one on the recieving end of that fury, 'cos let me tell you he's
been on my case."
"But why?" I snapped. "Fuck, I have done nothing but completely given up my time, my energy to -- to -- to nursing
him!"
Drake rested his head on the rail of the bed. "It's the pity. You can't stand it either, how poetic."
"Poetic, how?"
He titled to the side. "Because you two are just so alike sometimes. It's cute really."
I felt my eye twitch. "Look, if you do what I think you're going to do, I can charge you with -- "
"Yeah, yeah, save it." Drake sat up. "I'm here for Alexander Tavares and the DA. I said that you'd be able to take it
better from me than anyone else."
"That's a complete load of bull and you know it."
"Hey." His eyes narrowed. "Don't test my patience, I'm a part of their plan as much as you are."
"What plan?"
"The prosecution plan of the year. They're going after Mr. and Mrs. Tavares; and they need witnesses. Kara's refusing,
there's only so long before they force her, and I don't have a choice, seeing as I'm getting lucky. I refused testimony, so
they made a deal; rehab, no jail time."
"What?"
"Don't act like you don't understand. Buck up kid, 'cos you're a key witness in the latest media-hyped trial. Child
abuse, and lots of it." Drake got to his feet. "See you."
"Wait!" I yelled, pushing myself up, "What's happened? Tell me, please, tell me."
Drake released the doorknob. "I have an escort waiting outside, they won't be patient."
"What's happened -- happening, I mean."
He rolled his eyes back in my direction. "You being smacked was the final straw for Alex. He could have, you realize,
vanished. I know what the problem is with him, and it's the fact he can't stand being indebted to you now. He's doesn't
think that he could possibly save anyone, physically, emotionally, you name it. He thinks less of himself, that's from
being told it for years." Drake took his seat again. "And I'm just telling you what some psycho-whatchamacallit told
me.
"I think it's the illusion, really, that everything will be all right, is gone for him. If he can't pretend that is there, then he
can't think of what to do. People aren't naturally submissive, they are only made that way. And when all you have is
delusion," Drake lowered his voice and leaned in, "what happens when it's gone? Who do you blame? How do you
start again?"
He shrugged casually. "If you got in the way, pulled away the veil, whatever, then it's your fault, no matter how much
you care. I know you do; and a lot more than you think you do." Drake threw back his head with a manic cackle.
"You emo kids sure know how to deny the good emotions."
"GOOD LORD, I HATE THAT WORD!" I said around the rather large lump forming in my throat.
"I know, but, hey, it's the way of the world." Drake stood, dusting himself. "Now I really have to go."
So he did and I held my hand over my mouth and finally began to cry.
o-o-o
I eased out of the hospital bed. I hadn't been on my feet in three days since I had been kept for observation,
something, blah blah blah. My shoulder was done up in bandages and braces and I had been strictly forbidden from
moving too much. That meant bedrest and complete dependency on my family to scurry around get anything I needed.
And no drums. That had really been the hardest part for me, that I was not allowed to play with my drums. If I had
anything that was a medium through which I could express myself in a creative manner, that was it. What was I
supposed to do when I was pissed now? What was the point of keeping Mack's number because he lived an hour
away and wanted to start a band? I supposed I would have to call him and tell him I was completely incapacitated and
that he would need to find someone else.
I sunk into the wheelchair as the nurse had brought in for me. I sighed as my shoulder complained loudly. I had a
prescription for narcotics somewhere in my bags. They'd warned me that the pain may become intolerable and that
maybe the medicine wouldn't work if it did. I rubbed my eyes wearily. I'd have to go back to school in a week like
this. That would be an interesting day. Jess would be circling me because she'd feel guilty that she hadn't seen or called
me all summer, so she hadn't visited me in the hospital, or whatever. I honestly didn't care whether or not she would
have kept in touch with me during the summer. I felt a small, bitter feeling forming in my stomach.
When I began talking to the DA later in the week, and the shrink as well, I began to dwell on this newly accquired
bitterness. The shrink said something about the fact that I was such a strong person to have cared so deeply about
Alex, to have good instincts about the situation. I wanted to say that I wasn't strong, that I was only protecting
someone that was musical brother in arms. Anyone else with a decent sense of loud music would have done the same.
I didn't say that because I knew it was the shrink's job to say what she was saying. Though, I really didn't want to
believe what she was saying. I wasn't strong. I was just a bitch.
I was a bitch when it came to people, when it came to relationships. I liked Alex because he had experience in dealing
with bitches, because it didn't faze him when I shot off a string of curse words that would have made hair curl. He
thought, if anything, that this was a just a cute, quirky little trait of mine. When it was put in that context, it became
frustrating, because no matter what I did that would make people give me my berth, he could think that it was just the
norm. Oh, that's ok that you swear like a sailor and eat like a truck driver, it's just your thing. By the time I had
unclenched my jaw, I could see that I was slowly coming to like him as a brother.
Drake was right. I hadn't had a lot of friends to begin with, and then I had only had one. The bitterness subsided for a
second. I only had one good friend, who knew most of my ins and outs and with whom I could just act like I wanted.
Perfect. I shuddered internally. I had just taken advantage of the way everyone else had treated him, huh?
Nah, a little voice said in the back of my head, you didn't. Because who else would have stood between him and
blow? Sighed and closed my eyes. I'd had enough, because you can still get a broken heart, even if you're not in love
with that person, you just need to love them. Then, boom, broken heart because they do something so simple and
stupid by convincing themselves that they can make a tidy get away if you don't know about it. I began to chew my lip
out of frustration. God, that bothered me. It really did. I kept landing on it, kept testing the spot to see if it still hurt, and
it always did. I knew in the back of my mind that I should be thankful that everything was going to be all right now, but
I wasn't reassured. If anything, I felt more in trouble.
o-o-o
"Unorthodox." The judge mused, glancing down at me. "They sent Mr. Rourke to inform you instead of a lawyer?"
"Yes." I said, tucking a strand of pink hair behind my ear. My left arm was still in a sling from time to time since the
bone had refused to heal right the first time around and it had been rebroken and set again. I was now trying to work
past the pain in physical therapy so I could seriously let loose on the drums. "They figured it was kinder, they wanted to
move things along quicky."
"Ms. Forester," the lawyer who was questioning me again spoke up, "does that arm pain you?"
"Yes." I traced the curvature of my arm absently.
"Do you know who inflicted that injury?"
"Yes."
"Are they in this courtroom at the moment?"
"Yes." I answered firmly.
"And who are they?"
I motioned at Mr. Tavares loosely. "Him, sir."
"Jonathan Tavares?"
"Yes, sir.
"And how did he inflict it?"
"I was trying to make sure Alex was safe, so I ran into yard in the dark. While I was doing so, I was confused for Alex
and Mr. Tavares struck downward with the blade of a shovel. I accidentally turned into it, having heard him approach.
My doctors told me that it's the reason the bone broke."
"And it's had trouble healing, hasn't it?"
"Yes sir."
"Thank you Ms. Forester."
"You're welcome."
o-o-o
Drake and I were pooled in what we had dubbed the "Witness Corral"
Drake hovered over me silently, having been reduced to a mere wraith by rehab. He was disturbing to be around with
his washed out appearance. His blue eyes were now a flat gray and they held only a mere flicker himself in them.
Though he could be glimpsed at through his eyes, his mannerisms were becoming childlike, like the way he cupped my
hands together in his and pressed them together hard. It was for the warmth, I think, that he did this, for he was
freezing to the touch. I knew, at some points, he was waiting for me to recoil and flee, something he knew from past
experiences. Instead, I pitied him the best I could, even allowing the little romantic part of my personality to think that
maybe, under much different circumstances that, well...maybe...
But he was dying now. We both knew that he had just given up on life, so there was no more time left to be nasty. I
might as well be nice because no one else, especially not Alex nor anyone else, was ever going to thank him for his
scarifice. We had both handed out our affections, however rough or awkward they might have been, to the black
haired boy and we had both come up empty handed. Though, had we really expected anything back in return? Drake
and I had gained with Alex a close, personal friendship that he was throwing away. The true shock was, "how could he
do this to us? We know he knows how this feels!"
Drake's head dipped and his shoulders overtook it. I slid to the floor where he had been kneeling and let him rest his
head in my lap. For what it's worth, at that moment, we were just two prisoners seeking solace.
o-o-o
When I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye I tried
Down falls the rain on the telephone czar
It's ok to call
Now I'll answer for myself
If you wrote me off
I'd understand it .
o-o-o
Life had fast become impersonal. Stand here, pose here, look serious and don't forget to smile. Always the smile.
Smile because it will make you feel better. Smile because it will make things not seem to bad. Smile because it makes
everyone else happy. You know what? Fuck smiling. I'm done smiling. I've had it. This is just the final straw because
life has pretty much kicked my ass for the last two years. I could care less what other people think about me. I could
care less.
I ground my teeth as I sat at the back of the courtroom, waiting for someone, anyone, to come out, say the verdict and
let the media close in on Alex so I could leave. Drake wasn't here. For all I knew, Drake was circling the drain when I
needed him most. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Damn it, he couldn't die now, just when I'd finally gotten to like him and
when we actually had something to relate about. But he going to because he was done too. He was done with people
trying to fix his problems and he was done with all the disappointments that life liked to dish out like candy. He was
taking the easy way out now. DAMN IT DRAKE. I'm never going to forgive you.
Hastily, the foreperson from the jury scooted out from the back, followed by the others. I didn't care about any of the
terms because I didn't care. That's the jury over there, that's the judge, those are lawyers and I'm a witness. There.
Presto. The American court system simplified. I clenched the edge of my seat and leaned forward, straining to hear
what was about to go down. Now, it seemed that everything that I would have given to liberate Alex when our
friendship was at its peak was stupid. Insignificant. Adolescent. Naive. Why? Because I all had gotten in return was a
summons and a cold thank you on day one. Those bastard parents of his were going down just so I could sleep a little
better at night and so I could wash my hands of all this.
But I knew that I couldn't. Deep down I knew I couldn't let go so easily. I was shocked now and then to feel the anger
roiling around in myself, but it felt justified, even if I couldn't really justify it. I wanted to smash someone's face in or
kick their back until it broke. Boy, was I angry and there was nothing I could do about it. Not a soul knew about my
anger but me, and I didn't want them to know because then I would have to explain why I was angry. That would end
in something stupid. I'd probably be put on pills. I didn't want to be put on any more pills. I was in enough pain for an
army and I had the meds to go with it.
Anger is fuel. Fuel keeps you moving forward and I needed to keep moving forward until I reached a point in my life
where I could begin to explain to myself what had happened, why I was angry and why I was doing this. Why I was
like this? I'd never been an emotional person up 'til now...and, well, now I was crying one second and then trying to
beat my brother over the head with a pillow the next. The shrink said that it was normal for people who have suffered
something as traumatic as I had to have difficulty dealing with it in a positive way. If they chose to deal with it at all. I
dealt with it every day! EVERY DAY. I was lining up for senior year now (seeing as the court system is incredibly
slow) and Alex was due for college. I would never see him again, most likely.
When they read the verdict out loud, when the end, in some small sense, truly came, I felt ready to let go. I never had
to see Alex again. He was busy with starting a new life, having just packed, probably, for the trip to his new school and
making sure his siblings were safe with his relatives. I was busy with physical therapy, looking at colleges, studying for
the SATs and writing music which I'd been sending to Mack. He was sight for sore eyes when he actually hitched a
ride over to pick up the sheets in person. I was on the edge of a new life too. It was a life with propriety and a sense
that there could be something good in store for me. I breathed deeply, clinging tightly to my seat. I could forge a new
life. I'd have new friends. This would all be behind me.
When I stepped outside the courtroom I found myself with new resolve to move forward, even if I was fueled by the
anger. I walked on past Alex, his lawyer and horde of reporters. I walked past his parents being led away. I
deliberately turned my back to it all. Even though I was now moving forward, propelling myself towards what I hoped
was my destiny, I could still feel Alex's eyes on my back and I knew that, in the end, I would always have to remember
him and this...mess.
o-o-o
Epilogue
I toggled with the combination lock on my locker, watching the flow of students break on the stairways and classrooms
to my left. I watched my own grade laugh and high five each other for making it to senior year. Praise be. We never
thought we would make it.
Jess hustled by me, not even looking down to where I crouched with my palm pressed against the locker to twist to
watch her. She joined a boy at the end of the hall and vanished into the next hall over. So far as I was concerned, she
was now gone. I finally opened the locker and tossed a few notebooks and a binder in. In a short while, class would
begin and my classmates would ask me about the trial. I planned to graciously smile and say that I didn't wish to say
anything because it was awfully personal.
But, at least, for the first time in a long time, I was happy to be alone. and
So...there! I know I should have gotten something done, but I spend the week at avatar_fanart and wound up scribbling in my sketchbook the entire time. :P I think I made some good fan comics though.
I opened an eyelid. My parents were standing over me. Time to act cool.
"Mm, what?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah." I shifted to get a better look at them. "Aside from the broken shoulder and all. Did you know that I can't play
the drums now? It really sucks. The doctor who told me was ok, though. He likes the Circle Jerks."
"That's...nice."
"Yeah." I stretched my right arm, flexing my fingers and studying them closely. "Good thing I'm right handed, I guess."
The looked at me and I looked at them. I really couldn't think of anything to say at that point. I blinked.
"Well, another three days." My mother offered, smiling. "We are worried about you, you know. We are your
parents..."
"I know." I licked my lips nervously. "Awkward...isn't this?"
We were a little detached for family. My dad shrugged and left; my mom hung around and we tried to make small talk,
but it just wouldn't come. She kept looking at my left arm, stroking it and calling me her poor baby. I couldn't stand
that; I was having a hard time sorting things out...there really wasn't a lot of room in my head for feeling sorry for
myself.
The chain of events was being strung together. Alex had told me most of what had happened, as he kept showing up to
talk. He wouldn't be comfortable around me and refused to meet my eye.
"Well," he had begun, "I was trying to escape, head over the Attleboro line before calling Drake, then convince him to
drive me out of the state. Not a very good plan, eh?"
I shrugged. Alex slicked down his hair.
"But, I got locked up...for a long time. I tried counting the days, but I must have lost a day somewhere along the line. I
really was aiming to be gone before you got back -- "
"Why would you do that?" I blurted out. "Did you honestly thing that I wouldn't worry?"
"Well...no..."
"Great. Continue."
"Managed to pry open the window, swing out onto the ledge, then I slipped, got a hold of trim, tore it off and fell." He
sat a little straighter. "I only got a sprained ankle though.
"They heard...so, naturally, they came outside."
"Alex -- "
"That's all I'm going to tell you." He stood, picking up his sweatshirt. "I don't care what you think, you don't need to
know anymore than that."
"Alex -- "
"Besides, you would like that, wouldn't you? Some sick fantasy, having some guy cry all over you, his eyeliner running
-- "
"Where the hell did that come from?"
" -- while you get pleasure in it all, because it fixes your problems to feel superior -- "
"HEY!"
" -- to someone like me. Really, is that why you follow me, you fucking whore?"
I shrank back as he glared at me. It must had been the narcotics, but otherwise, I could have sworn I could feel his
anger writhing in the air. It was disgusting and perverted and completely aimed at me. That was one hell of an insult
right there.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat as he stormed out. I wanted to cry, badly, but I refused to sob over being
insulted. I had more pride than that. If he was going to act that way, then, fine, he could come crawling back if he ever
wanted to see me again.
o-o-o
Drake somehow managed to come and see me. He smiled as he plunked the vase full of poppies (he said it was more
fitting than roses, I think they were just cheaper) in front of me, humming under his breath.
I twisted the hospital sheet with my good hand as he pulled up a seat.
"I know," he raised his hands, "I must be the last person on earth you want to see, but, hey, I care and it's the thought
that counts."
"Honestly, I would just rather pay you to beat some sense into that friend of yours."
"Actually," he grinned sheepishly, "I'm kind of here on his behalf. Without him knowing, heh, yeah."
"Whatever."
Drake frowned suddenly. "Don't act like you're the only one on the recieving end of that fury, 'cos let me tell you he's
been on my case."
"But why?" I snapped. "Fuck, I have done nothing but completely given up my time, my energy to -- to -- to nursing
him!"
Drake rested his head on the rail of the bed. "It's the pity. You can't stand it either, how poetic."
"Poetic, how?"
He titled to the side. "Because you two are just so alike sometimes. It's cute really."
I felt my eye twitch. "Look, if you do what I think you're going to do, I can charge you with -- "
"Yeah, yeah, save it." Drake sat up. "I'm here for Alexander Tavares and the DA. I said that you'd be able to take it
better from me than anyone else."
"That's a complete load of bull and you know it."
"Hey." His eyes narrowed. "Don't test my patience, I'm a part of their plan as much as you are."
"What plan?"
"The prosecution plan of the year. They're going after Mr. and Mrs. Tavares; and they need witnesses. Kara's refusing,
there's only so long before they force her, and I don't have a choice, seeing as I'm getting lucky. I refused testimony, so
they made a deal; rehab, no jail time."
"What?"
"Don't act like you don't understand. Buck up kid, 'cos you're a key witness in the latest media-hyped trial. Child
abuse, and lots of it." Drake got to his feet. "See you."
"Wait!" I yelled, pushing myself up, "What's happened? Tell me, please, tell me."
Drake released the doorknob. "I have an escort waiting outside, they won't be patient."
"What's happened -- happening, I mean."
He rolled his eyes back in my direction. "You being smacked was the final straw for Alex. He could have, you realize,
vanished. I know what the problem is with him, and it's the fact he can't stand being indebted to you now. He's doesn't
think that he could possibly save anyone, physically, emotionally, you name it. He thinks less of himself, that's from
being told it for years." Drake took his seat again. "And I'm just telling you what some psycho-whatchamacallit told
me.
"I think it's the illusion, really, that everything will be all right, is gone for him. If he can't pretend that is there, then he
can't think of what to do. People aren't naturally submissive, they are only made that way. And when all you have is
delusion," Drake lowered his voice and leaned in, "what happens when it's gone? Who do you blame? How do you
start again?"
He shrugged casually. "If you got in the way, pulled away the veil, whatever, then it's your fault, no matter how much
you care. I know you do; and a lot more than you think you do." Drake threw back his head with a manic cackle.
"You emo kids sure know how to deny the good emotions."
"GOOD LORD, I HATE THAT WORD!" I said around the rather large lump forming in my throat.
"I know, but, hey, it's the way of the world." Drake stood, dusting himself. "Now I really have to go."
So he did and I held my hand over my mouth and finally began to cry.
o-o-o
I eased out of the hospital bed. I hadn't been on my feet in three days since I had been kept for observation,
something, blah blah blah. My shoulder was done up in bandages and braces and I had been strictly forbidden from
moving too much. That meant bedrest and complete dependency on my family to scurry around get anything I needed.
And no drums. That had really been the hardest part for me, that I was not allowed to play with my drums. If I had
anything that was a medium through which I could express myself in a creative manner, that was it. What was I
supposed to do when I was pissed now? What was the point of keeping Mack's number because he lived an hour
away and wanted to start a band? I supposed I would have to call him and tell him I was completely incapacitated and
that he would need to find someone else.
I sunk into the wheelchair as the nurse had brought in for me. I sighed as my shoulder complained loudly. I had a
prescription for narcotics somewhere in my bags. They'd warned me that the pain may become intolerable and that
maybe the medicine wouldn't work if it did. I rubbed my eyes wearily. I'd have to go back to school in a week like
this. That would be an interesting day. Jess would be circling me because she'd feel guilty that she hadn't seen or called
me all summer, so she hadn't visited me in the hospital, or whatever. I honestly didn't care whether or not she would
have kept in touch with me during the summer. I felt a small, bitter feeling forming in my stomach.
When I began talking to the DA later in the week, and the shrink as well, I began to dwell on this newly accquired
bitterness. The shrink said something about the fact that I was such a strong person to have cared so deeply about
Alex, to have good instincts about the situation. I wanted to say that I wasn't strong, that I was only protecting
someone that was musical brother in arms. Anyone else with a decent sense of loud music would have done the same.
I didn't say that because I knew it was the shrink's job to say what she was saying. Though, I really didn't want to
believe what she was saying. I wasn't strong. I was just a bitch.
I was a bitch when it came to people, when it came to relationships. I liked Alex because he had experience in dealing
with bitches, because it didn't faze him when I shot off a string of curse words that would have made hair curl. He
thought, if anything, that this was a just a cute, quirky little trait of mine. When it was put in that context, it became
frustrating, because no matter what I did that would make people give me my berth, he could think that it was just the
norm. Oh, that's ok that you swear like a sailor and eat like a truck driver, it's just your thing. By the time I had
unclenched my jaw, I could see that I was slowly coming to like him as a brother.
Drake was right. I hadn't had a lot of friends to begin with, and then I had only had one. The bitterness subsided for a
second. I only had one good friend, who knew most of my ins and outs and with whom I could just act like I wanted.
Perfect. I shuddered internally. I had just taken advantage of the way everyone else had treated him, huh?
Nah, a little voice said in the back of my head, you didn't. Because who else would have stood between him and
blow? Sighed and closed my eyes. I'd had enough, because you can still get a broken heart, even if you're not in love
with that person, you just need to love them. Then, boom, broken heart because they do something so simple and
stupid by convincing themselves that they can make a tidy get away if you don't know about it. I began to chew my lip
out of frustration. God, that bothered me. It really did. I kept landing on it, kept testing the spot to see if it still hurt, and
it always did. I knew in the back of my mind that I should be thankful that everything was going to be all right now, but
I wasn't reassured. If anything, I felt more in trouble.
o-o-o
"Unorthodox." The judge mused, glancing down at me. "They sent Mr. Rourke to inform you instead of a lawyer?"
"Yes." I said, tucking a strand of pink hair behind my ear. My left arm was still in a sling from time to time since the
bone had refused to heal right the first time around and it had been rebroken and set again. I was now trying to work
past the pain in physical therapy so I could seriously let loose on the drums. "They figured it was kinder, they wanted to
move things along quicky."
"Ms. Forester," the lawyer who was questioning me again spoke up, "does that arm pain you?"
"Yes." I traced the curvature of my arm absently.
"Do you know who inflicted that injury?"
"Yes."
"Are they in this courtroom at the moment?"
"Yes." I answered firmly.
"And who are they?"
I motioned at Mr. Tavares loosely. "Him, sir."
"Jonathan Tavares?"
"Yes, sir.
"And how did he inflict it?"
"I was trying to make sure Alex was safe, so I ran into yard in the dark. While I was doing so, I was confused for Alex
and Mr. Tavares struck downward with the blade of a shovel. I accidentally turned into it, having heard him approach.
My doctors told me that it's the reason the bone broke."
"And it's had trouble healing, hasn't it?"
"Yes sir."
"Thank you Ms. Forester."
"You're welcome."
o-o-o
Drake and I were pooled in what we had dubbed the "Witness Corral"
Drake hovered over me silently, having been reduced to a mere wraith by rehab. He was disturbing to be around with
his washed out appearance. His blue eyes were now a flat gray and they held only a mere flicker himself in them.
Though he could be glimpsed at through his eyes, his mannerisms were becoming childlike, like the way he cupped my
hands together in his and pressed them together hard. It was for the warmth, I think, that he did this, for he was
freezing to the touch. I knew, at some points, he was waiting for me to recoil and flee, something he knew from past
experiences. Instead, I pitied him the best I could, even allowing the little romantic part of my personality to think that
maybe, under much different circumstances that, well...maybe...
But he was dying now. We both knew that he had just given up on life, so there was no more time left to be nasty. I
might as well be nice because no one else, especially not Alex nor anyone else, was ever going to thank him for his
scarifice. We had both handed out our affections, however rough or awkward they might have been, to the black
haired boy and we had both come up empty handed. Though, had we really expected anything back in return? Drake
and I had gained with Alex a close, personal friendship that he was throwing away. The true shock was, "how could he
do this to us? We know he knows how this feels!"
Drake's head dipped and his shoulders overtook it. I slid to the floor where he had been kneeling and let him rest his
head in my lap. For what it's worth, at that moment, we were just two prisoners seeking solace.
o-o-o
When I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye I tried
Down falls the rain on the telephone czar
It's ok to call
Now I'll answer for myself
If you wrote me off
I'd understand it .
o-o-o
Life had fast become impersonal. Stand here, pose here, look serious and don't forget to smile. Always the smile.
Smile because it will make you feel better. Smile because it will make things not seem to bad. Smile because it makes
everyone else happy. You know what? Fuck smiling. I'm done smiling. I've had it. This is just the final straw because
life has pretty much kicked my ass for the last two years. I could care less what other people think about me. I could
care less.
I ground my teeth as I sat at the back of the courtroom, waiting for someone, anyone, to come out, say the verdict and
let the media close in on Alex so I could leave. Drake wasn't here. For all I knew, Drake was circling the drain when I
needed him most. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Damn it, he couldn't die now, just when I'd finally gotten to like him and
when we actually had something to relate about. But he going to because he was done too. He was done with people
trying to fix his problems and he was done with all the disappointments that life liked to dish out like candy. He was
taking the easy way out now. DAMN IT DRAKE. I'm never going to forgive you.
Hastily, the foreperson from the jury scooted out from the back, followed by the others. I didn't care about any of the
terms because I didn't care. That's the jury over there, that's the judge, those are lawyers and I'm a witness. There.
Presto. The American court system simplified. I clenched the edge of my seat and leaned forward, straining to hear
what was about to go down. Now, it seemed that everything that I would have given to liberate Alex when our
friendship was at its peak was stupid. Insignificant. Adolescent. Naive. Why? Because I all had gotten in return was a
summons and a cold thank you on day one. Those bastard parents of his were going down just so I could sleep a little
better at night and so I could wash my hands of all this.
But I knew that I couldn't. Deep down I knew I couldn't let go so easily. I was shocked now and then to feel the anger
roiling around in myself, but it felt justified, even if I couldn't really justify it. I wanted to smash someone's face in or
kick their back until it broke. Boy, was I angry and there was nothing I could do about it. Not a soul knew about my
anger but me, and I didn't want them to know because then I would have to explain why I was angry. That would end
in something stupid. I'd probably be put on pills. I didn't want to be put on any more pills. I was in enough pain for an
army and I had the meds to go with it.
Anger is fuel. Fuel keeps you moving forward and I needed to keep moving forward until I reached a point in my life
where I could begin to explain to myself what had happened, why I was angry and why I was doing this. Why I was
like this? I'd never been an emotional person up 'til now...and, well, now I was crying one second and then trying to
beat my brother over the head with a pillow the next. The shrink said that it was normal for people who have suffered
something as traumatic as I had to have difficulty dealing with it in a positive way. If they chose to deal with it at all. I
dealt with it every day! EVERY DAY. I was lining up for senior year now (seeing as the court system is incredibly
slow) and Alex was due for college. I would never see him again, most likely.
When they read the verdict out loud, when the end, in some small sense, truly came, I felt ready to let go. I never had
to see Alex again. He was busy with starting a new life, having just packed, probably, for the trip to his new school and
making sure his siblings were safe with his relatives. I was busy with physical therapy, looking at colleges, studying for
the SATs and writing music which I'd been sending to Mack. He was sight for sore eyes when he actually hitched a
ride over to pick up the sheets in person. I was on the edge of a new life too. It was a life with propriety and a sense
that there could be something good in store for me. I breathed deeply, clinging tightly to my seat. I could forge a new
life. I'd have new friends. This would all be behind me.
When I stepped outside the courtroom I found myself with new resolve to move forward, even if I was fueled by the
anger. I walked on past Alex, his lawyer and horde of reporters. I walked past his parents being led away. I
deliberately turned my back to it all. Even though I was now moving forward, propelling myself towards what I hoped
was my destiny, I could still feel Alex's eyes on my back and I knew that, in the end, I would always have to remember
him and this...mess.
o-o-o
Epilogue
I toggled with the combination lock on my locker, watching the flow of students break on the stairways and classrooms
to my left. I watched my own grade laugh and high five each other for making it to senior year. Praise be. We never
thought we would make it.
Jess hustled by me, not even looking down to where I crouched with my palm pressed against the locker to twist to
watch her. She joined a boy at the end of the hall and vanished into the next hall over. So far as I was concerned, she
was now gone. I finally opened the locker and tossed a few notebooks and a binder in. In a short while, class would
begin and my classmates would ask me about the trial. I planned to graciously smile and say that I didn't wish to say
anything because it was awfully personal.
But, at least, for the first time in a long time, I was happy to be alone. and
So...there! I know I should have gotten something done, but I spend the week at avatar_fanart and wound up scribbling in my sketchbook the entire time. :P I think I made some good fan comics though.