Crying Out Silent

by Marita A. Hansen

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.”

  “Then tell Mum.”

  “She won’t understand.”

  He pulled away from me and wiped his face, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying like a woman.”

  I shrugged. “It’s all right.”

  “I wish it were,” he said, staring at me intensely, making me feel uncomfortable again.

  “What?” I said.

  “Is your girlfriend treating you right?”

  I nodded.

  “You ever thought about moving in with her?”

  “No, plus her family are strict Catholics. They wouldn’t lemme move in.”

  “I didn’t mean to live with ’em, I meant flatting. You’ll be sixteen soon, old enough to rent.”

  “Why, do ya want me to move out?” I asked, now worried, my birthday next month. “I thought you liked me.”

  “I do, it’s just...” He frowned. “Maybe it would be for the best if you went flatting.”

  “I’d hafta quit school and get a job to do that,” I said, upset he was trying to push me out, which I didn’t understand. I really thought he liked me being around. Yeah, I found him annoying, but I never let him know my true feelings.

  “You don’t even like school, and you told your mother you wanted to get a job.”

  “What I want is to stay at home!” I snapped, now getting worked up. “I like it ’ere! Why ya tryna get rid of me?”

  His face dropped. “Oh, shit, Ash, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t wanna get rid of you at all, far from it. I’m only suggesting it ’cause I thought you’d like to be free from us olds.”

  “Well, I don’t! I love living with Mum, and she likes me bein’ ’ere. Plus, there’s no way she’d lemme move out, so I don’t understand why you even suggested it.”

  He grimaced. “I’m sorry, I should’ve kept my bloody mouth shut, I can’t do anything fuckin’ right today. I’m stressed about money, stressed about Dante. If anything, I’d rather him move out.” He turned and snatched up his keys and wallet off his dresser. “If your mother asks, I’ll be at the pub.” He slipped past me, disappearing through the passage doorway.

  He came home drunk that night. I heard him and Mum arguing over Dante, my stepdad screaming at her to send him back to the boys’ home. But it didn’t matter, because Dante ran away again the next day. This time he disappeared for three days. The police found him squatting with a group of druggies. He was taken to child services, CYFS threatening to keep him, but my grandparents came down, helping Mum get him back. When Dante returned, he avoided everyone except for Sledge, often disappearing for hours. Chaz avoided him too, paying more and more attention to me to the point where I felt like I was being suffocated. I knew he was only being nice, that he thought he was acting like a father, but for fuck’s sake, I wasn’t a small kid. I needed my space. I didn’t want to go to the raceway with him every bloody weekend, I wanted to party with my mates. Plus, I hated the raceway. Watching cars go round and round wasn’t exactly what I would call a good time.

  But not long afterwards, I found out why he was paying me so much attention, when I woke up in hospital, my cousin’s words leaving me speechless.

  11

  ASH

  Hunter told me that Chaz had drugged me.

  Raped me.

  Then had attacked Dante when he’d tried to stop him.

  Chaz then stabbed my mother when she went at him with a knife, killing her.

  I saw the last part as though it was a dream.

  Heard my brother’s cries.

  Heard his screams.

  A few days after I was released from hospital, I ran out onto a busy road, wanting to be hit by a car. No one hit me. But it was the first time I’d ever considered committing suicide—and it wouldn’t be the last.

  12

  ASH

  October

  I’d never written in a diary before, but my counsellor reckoned it would help me, and since I couldn’t verbalise things very well now, too ashamed to say what had happened to me out loud, I decided it would be easier to put everything down on paper. Though, she told me not to start writing about what had happened on the night that destroyed my life, but to go back and write about my past. About happier times, because, although it was important to talk about the bad things, to come to terms with them, it was equally important to talk about the good things. But in the mind space I was in, I didn’t think there was anything good that I could write down, still didn’t. My counsellor said there must be, and that I was too nice a boy to not have had anything good happen to me. I didn’t think I was nice, but she made me remember the times my mother used to say those words, which usually went with, ‘Why can’t Dante be more like you?’

  Dante now lived with our father, while I lived with my cousin in Claydon, preferring to stay with Hunter. My grandparents wanted me to live with them, but I found out Hunter had fought tooth and nail to keep me with him. He’d used my education as the reason, since I only had one term left of Fifth Form, which was supposedly the most important year of school. And if I stopped going, I would have to redo it, which I wouldn’t, no way, not even to get into graphic art school like my mum had wanted.

  I screwed up my face and stopped writing, because whenever I thought about her it hurt more than I could handle. My stepfather’s trial was starting next week, something that I didn’t have to attend, even though I had considered it. I was afraid that if I didn’t go, he would get off. But Hunter reassured me the sicko wouldn’t, that there was too much evidence against Chaz, and that he would be going to prison for a very long time.

  “What’s wrong, Ash?” Tiana asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder, finding my girlfriend staring down at me. I’d been so wrapped up in writing that I hadn’t heard her enter. She was dressed in a baby-doll dress and leggings, her long brown, wavy hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She didn’t look happy, but not because of me, well, I didn’t think so, since I hadn’t spoken to her this morning. No, it was more likely over the morning-sickness she was getting, and right now she looked like she’d been puking again. She appeared pale and worn-out, like most days lately. I got her pregnant the first time we had sex, the day before I was raped. But what made Tiana’s pregnancy worse, was that I actually had condoms in the drawer right next to us when we were doing it. I’d just gotten carried away and didn’t think to put one on. My brain always went to mush around her, and sometimes I did and said things without thinking, just rushed ahead of myself before my stupid brain realised what my body or mouth was doing.

  “What’s wrong, Ash?” she repeated.

  “Nuthin’,” I replied, which was pretty much my standard response to everything, and by the look on her face, she knew I was fobbing her off.

  I pushed up from the desk and headed past her to my wardrobe to get my school clothes. I pulled them out and placed them on the single bed. I didn’t share a room with her, a condition her mother had made. I was relieved when her mother had said that, because I really didn’t want to be sleeping in the same bed. I’d been having problems with people touching me, something the counsellor was trying to help me with.

  I pulled off my pyjama pants, putting some colour back into Tiana’s cheeks, then stepped into my black school pants. “So, you’re going to school?” she asked as I changed my T for my school shirt.

  I thought it was a stupid question, considering what I was changing into, but I guessed she was just as uncomfortable as I was, needing to fill the awkward silence. “Yeah,” I replied. “Hunter hasn’t given me a choice.”

  She watched me doing my buttons up, making me feel even more uncomfortable. Since the night I was raped, we hadn’t done anything sexual. Most of the time we ended up watching videos, which was pretty much all she could do without having to race off to the toilet for a chunder. Don’t get m
e wrong, I still found her hot, even with her looking like death warmed up, I just couldn’t seem to bring myself to actually kiss her, like really kiss her, not just a platonic peck on the cheek or forehead. Though, I usually used the excuse that she smelled like puke, which wasn’t a lie. Even though she used loads of mouthwash—the amount Hunter bought making him swear and complain that he wasn’t a cash machine—there was still a lingering smell.

  I grabbed my school bag and headed out of my room. Tiana was supposed to be going to school too. It was another condition her mother had put on us for her to live with me, but it looked like she wasn’t up to it this morning. Anyway, Hunter said if Tiana wasn’t well enough for school, he would sort things out with the principal so that her mother didn’t find out. It was also Mrs. Lilu’s fault for being so pig-headed, because how could she expect her daughter to go to school when all Tiana could do was run to the toilet and throw up. Her morning-sickness didn’t just end in the morning, it continued throughout the day. I was worried about that to start with, considering it was called morning-sickness, but the doctor said it was normal, that our baby wasn’t killing Tiana, like I’d thought. The prick had smirked at me after I’d asked the question as though I was an idiot, but how the fuck would I know, especially since Tiana was wasting away like the dude in Stephen King’s Thinner.

  I headed into the kitchen, giving Hunter a nod as I walked past him. He was talking into the phone rapidly, barking at someone on the other end. “I ain’t selling meth, so quit asking. You know that’s the only shit I refuse to push.”

  My cousin was a drug dealer, not something we spoke about much, other than I wasn’t allowed to swipe any of his product. I pulled open the fridge and grabbed the bag of food with my name on. I opened it and looked inside, finding sandwiches and an apple. I figured Tiana must’ve put it there, because I couldn’t imagine Hunter making me lunch, plus the writing looked like Tiana’s. I turned, finding her behind me.

  I held up the bag and forced myself to smile. “Thanks for the grub.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, smiling in return.

  I turned back to the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke, then headed past Tiana. “See ya, Hunter,” I said to my cuz.

  “Hold on a tick,” he muttered into the phone, then covered it. “Have a good day, son.”

  Hunter had started calling me son recently, the way he’d been treating me making me feel like he believed I was. I couldn’t remember when he’d first said it, probably sometime after I’d moved in with him. It was kind of weird, but also nice, and if truth be told, I liked it. I hadn’t had a real dad for a while, my biological father had stopped being one when he started filling himself with meth. He’d always been aggro, but it had intensified a hundredfold after he’d started snorting and shooting up, which was why my cuz refused to sell the shit, no matter how much his boss pressured him.

  “Thanks,” I said to Hunter, hoping the day would go good too, but doubting it. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my mates, especially Joel, who’d found out what Chaz had done to me. Tiana said he hadn’t told anyone, but the fact he knew made things so much harder. It was shameful and unbearable that my best mate knew that I’d been fucked up the arse, even more so since he was a self-proclaimed fag-hater. Yeah, I wasn’t gay, but I’d been used like one.

  I stuffed my feet into my boots as Tiana watched me intently. I plastered on another fake smile for her benefit. “See ya later,” I said, opening the front door.

  “Can I have a kiss?” she asked.

  I leaned towards her and kissed her forehead.

  “I meant on the lips,” she said, looking hopeful.

  “You’ve been puking,” I replied, hoping that excuse would still fly, but by the look on her face I could tell she knew the real reason. But instead of bringing it up, she smiled at me, because she was the sweetest thing since candy, and supported me even though I knew it hurt her.

  I felt bad for upsetting her, especially at a time when she was so sick. But I was sick too. Sick of feeling like I was this warped person, someone who had a cancerous cell inside of me which my stepdad had planted.

  I headed off to school, giving her a wave, hoping that things wouldn’t feel so forced when I got home. I ignored the bus that could’ve gotten me to school earlier, because I liked walking, and since it was October the days were getting warmer, spring in full swing.

  At the end of my street, I crossed over and headed past the primary school and kindergarten, then onto the main road. For I don’t know how long, I watched the rush hour traffic go past like an addict about to get his next fix. After I’d found out what my stepdad had done to me and my mum last month, I started running onto busy roads. It made me forget everything for that moment as well as giving me a high. Originally, I did it because I didn’t care about getting hit, in fact I wanted to die, but now I just got a thrill out of it, wanting to see if I was quick enough to get across without ending up as roadkill. But I promised Hunter that I would stop doing it... a promise I was finding hard to keep.

  I assessed the road, spotting a small gap coming up in the first lane, and a slightly bigger one in the second, which wasn’t a real challenge. So, I waited as the last car passed, then sprinted to the middle of the road, jumping onto the grass island. I then assessed the other side of the road, which wasn’t as busy, with a much bigger gap opening up for me. I jogged that stretch, heading up Claydon’s main road. I cut across another road, entering my old neighbourhood of Wera, which basically looked the same as Claydon, just slightly nicer, and with a few more brick houses.

  Before I knew it, I was almost at Wera High. The footpath was jam-packed with kids, the crowd making me feel claustrophobic. I jumped onto the grass so they didn’t push into me, and also so I didn’t punch them for doing it. I quickly ran through the gate, again avoiding the crush of kids, who looked like a giant blob of cranberries dressed in their red jumpers.

  Once I was safely inside the main building, the one that led to my homeroom, I made a beeline for the toilets, intending on staying in there until the bell rung so I could avoid my mates. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially my gay-hating mate. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely wasn’t gay—obviously, since I’d gotten Tiana pregnant, but I was worried that Joel would get the wrong idea, especially since he was kind of thick. Tiana said he didn’t, that he knew it wasn’t my choice and that he just wanted to be there for me. But I couldn’t bring myself to face him, because I didn’t think he’d be able to look at me without thinking about what had been done to me, and it went without saying that he’d either be repulsed or feel sympathy, both as bad as each other.

  I closed the toilet seat and sat down, placing my bag in front of me, the graffitied words across the door catching my attention. I frowned at the comments, which were about Kelley—a girl I knew, who was in hospital due to being run over by a van. In messy scrawls, guys had written their names under Kelley’s, basically claiming to have fucked her. With the exception of Ant, I knew for a fact that they were all lying bastards, because she’d told me she’d only been with two, possibly three guys. The last one she hadn’t been sure about due to being blotto at the time, what she’d confided in with me not something many people would freely talk about. It was why I believed her, which was also why I got out a felt pen from my bag so I could write comments under all of the names of the lying toe-rags, who had nothing better to do than to amp up their pathetic egos by dirtying the name of a really nice girl.

  Liam O’Malley

  You’re a fucking liar, because Kelly wouldn’t let your prick near her, and if you did happen to bonk her, she wouldn’t know because your cock is so tiny.

  Michael Levey

  Everyone knows you’re lying too, because the only relationship you’ve had is with your hand.

  Joey Nicholls

  If you did fuck Kelley, she would’ve gotten crabs, and she hasn’t.

  Derek Yanis

  Who are you trying to fool? We all know you’
re the one who gave Joey crabs.

  Noel Anderson

  Dream on, she’s too good for your pimply face.

  Adam Harvey

  Who the hell are you? And you better not bullshit about Kelley again or else I’ll find you and smash your face in, like all you other lying bastards.

  Ant Torres

  You’re the only one not lying here, but you’re still a scumbag for doing that shit to her.

  I stopped writing at that point, since I shouldn’t have put up what I really thought about Ant, because he was supposed to be a mate—although I was pretty sure you weren’t meant to hate your mates, like I did with him.

  I recapped my felt pen and put it away in my bag, then went still at the sound of sniffling coming from the toilet stall next to mine. I put my ear to the wall, definitely confirming what I thought: that someone was crying.

  “You all right in there?” I said out loud, although I didn’t know why. It wasn’t my problem, and considering what I’d been through, whatever they were upset over was probably insignificant.

  The crying grew louder, which made me feel shitty for making them aware that they’d been heard. Guys didn’t exactly like letting other guys know they were crying like girls. “Sorry,” I said.

  “I-It’s not your fault,” a soft voice replied.

  “Llewellyn?” I asked, wondering whether it was the gay kid from my class.

  “Yes.”

  I sighed. Yeah, it made sense, that kid was a cry baby. “Why are you crying?”

  “Just am.”

  “That’s a shit answer.”

  Llewellyn snorted, a cross between a laugh and a sob.

  I smiled. “Considering where we are, I guess that wuz a shit answer.”

  Llewellyn snorted again, then sniffled, like he was wiping his nose. “I didn’t expect you to come back to school.”

  I shrugged, realising Llewellyn had guessed who I was. “Didn’t have a choice, my guardian is making me.”