I adjusted my body as much as I could, trying to make the pins and needles feeling in my leg go away. My foot was wedged into a corner, so I did the best I could.
I looked to my side in the pitch blackness, and Layla smiled at me. Her image felt fuzzy around the edges. “Not all that much longer,” she said casually. “We can play a game if you want.”
I smiled back at her. “What game?”
She hummed, and shrugged. “I spy… nah… guess that wouldn’t work here,” she said, tapping her knuckles at the thing on her side. It made no sound. “Maybe twenty questions. I’ll go first.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Animal, mineral, or… what’s the other one?”
“Vegetable.” She giggled. “And it’s an animal.”
Okay, so that could be a person too. This wouldn’t be very easy. Layla loved animals. “Snow leopard?”
“Nope,” she said, popping her head up. “Try again, my love.”
I closed my eyes, thinking. “Umm… mongoose.”
“No.”
“Wolf?”
“No.”
“Golden tiger?”
She laughed at me again, rolling until she was on top of me, pressing her body to mine in the most wonderful way, her grin wide and her eyes playful. “Not even close.”
Her lips pressed to my neck, and I was supposed to guess again. “Distracting,” I said.
She hummed again and allowed her tongue to press into my skin before she planted a kiss there. “Deal with it.” She pulled at my earlobe. Cheater.
“Owl?”
Layla ground her hips against mine, hitting a key area. “Think a little more human, love.”
Human… How was I supposed to think when she was doing this? “Walt Disney.”
She stopped kissing me under the ear to laugh and press her forehead to mine. “Oh, you are my favorite person ever.” For just a flash, her lips touched mine. “Not him, but I love your guess.”
“Maybe I’d guess better with a little more incentive.”
She clicked her tongue, and her hair fell over my face when she moved up. Her back hit the lid, but she ignored it. “Ah, I gotcha.”
When her lips were back on mine, I sighed and parted them for her. Warm and safe. She made me feel warm and safe.
“I love you,” she told me, and my heart stopped beating. “Bennett?” she asked, forehead wrinkling. “Bennett? Honey, can you hear me?” Her voice cracked with worry. “Bennett?”
“Bennett?!” my mother screams at me, and my stomach drops.
What did I forget? I just got home. I couldn’t have forgotten anything. I did my chores the moment I got home. Then I went to sleep. It was so late. We wanted to get dinner together. We wanted a little more time before the fun stopped.
God, it was so much fun. The rides and the games and the drive. Layla’s speech was amazing, and she looked so strong and beautiful up there. It was insanity that she’d been so scared. The angel should believe in herself.
So, what did I do wrong? It’s after lunch time, so is that why she is yelling? I was sleeping in? I planned on this, and I told her about it. She said it was fine. She said she didn’t want me to be a zombie, and I could even skip my chores. I did them anyway. It was a thank you to her. Why, why, why is she angry?
My door flies open, and she’s standing there, fuming. Fury in her eyes. “Bennett,” she growls. “It’s three in the goddamn afternoon. What are you doing in bed?”
I sit up, sore from not moving for so long. My voice is raspy from misuse. “Sleeping.”
She bangs my door into the wall, making a hole where the knob is. “Don’t be a smartass. You were supposed to get up at noon. That was a perfectly reasonable time. Your fucking vacation is over now. Considering some of us have jobs and earn this gravy train you ride, it’s a real slap in the face when you pull this kind of shit.”
I blink, confused from sleepiness. “But, we didn’t say noon. I would have set my alarm.”
She cut me off before I’m done. “Oh, you’ll just come up with any damn excuse, won’t you? Life sure must be grand for you, playing stupid to get out of things. Not this time.” She points at me and then leaves.
No, no, no. I know what’s coming, and I make a sound. It was all so good. So good. Layla was in my head, and now she is gone. All alone with things to come. I know, I know. It’s going to hurt.
Mom comes back, and the belt is in her hands. She puts her fingers in my hair and pulls me to my feet before she begins beating me in the side with her leather belt. It stings and burns like it always does. She hits me harder, and I hold back the tears in my eyes.
She throws me to the ground, and I roll into the open door. I stop hard, and she thunders over to me. I get several hard kicks to my hip, and I gasp at the agony of it. I’m still healing from the last time. I’m always healing from the last time.
I’m dragged by the hair again, out of my room, and she stops when we’re in the hall. My back burns from the carpet, and my shirt is up, exposing reddening skin. The sting of the belt hurts so much more on bare skin. She knows that.
When she gets the racket, I scoot back on the floor in pure panic. I want to run, but I know I can’t. She’ll be done soon. I need to let it happen. Don’t fight. Fight, and she makes it worse.
A guttural sound leaves my body when the side of the racket connects with my spine. I fall, landing on my face. The carpet feels so soft. I want to lie there forever. But I don’t get to lie there. The racket comes down on me. My back, legs, head. Everywhere. All I know is pain, and I can’t understand what I did to make her want to do this.
Yes, I can. I’m a disappointment. A leech. Worthless. Stupid. Lazy. A mistake. A waste of time and air. A bastard. I am all of these things, so why shouldn’t I let her do this to me.
I stop listening to the things she screams at me because I can hear nothing but the ringing in my ears. Ringing, and pain all over. I want it to stop. I want to sleep.
I’m moving again, and I know where I’m being dragged. My body scratches along the carpet as the racket hits me all the way to the basement door. It opens, and I’m told to get on my feet. I do, and she shoves at me to move.
She always made me open it myself. I walk down on weak legs, and she shoves me hard until I stumble on the freezer. I land, the corner hitting me in the stomach. I want to vomit, but I don’t have time. She screams at me to open it. When I do, she shoves me inside.
My head hit the bottom of the empty freezer, and Mom shoves my legs in so I’ll fit. She’s annoyed because I fit much better before I hit puberty. But she finds a way, and she slams the lid down. I hear it lock from the outside, and I hear the door close when she leaves me in the darkness.
“I’m tired. and I… I want to go to bed,” Layla sobbed on my chest as I came back to the present. Her little voice shook as she sang, and her head lay over my heart.
“Shh,” I told her, and she popped up.
She gasped at me, eyes red from her crying. “Don’t you dare leave me like that again, Bennett,” she scolded me. “You went away, and I need you to stay with me. Do you understand?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She showered my face with little panicked kisses, telling me not to leave her again. Over and over. Her lips were warm, and I needed that. I needed her, and I needed to be warm.
Thank God the freezer didn’t work anymore. While Mom used to put me in there for a shorter amount of time, it was much worse to be cold.
I adjusted again with Layla on top of me. Her weight didn’t feel like anything, and I switched which leg was stretched. I groaned in pain, and Layla whimpered, kissing my face again. I wanted to tell her not to worry, but she would anyway.
My body ached, and I wished I could stretch out. Mom would probably give me ice later if she wasn’t mad anymore. She would probably also make me chocolate milk. The bruises upset her.
“You should come see me after this,” Layla told me. “I would be so upset if you didn’t.
”
I sighed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” she questioned.
I didn’t need to weigh her down even more. The girl was so sad, and she didn’t even know it. The sounds she made that first night we shared a bed, they hurt everything inside of me. She cried, and she acted like nothing happened. Just burrowed deeper in our blankets. At least she let me hold her. She didn’t have to accept that she was frightened, but I was glad she let me comfort her ignored pain. It was okay because I hurt enough for the both of us.
“I don’t like that,” she said. “I don’t like you hurting at all.”
She laid her head on folded arms over me, and she watched my face.
“Happy thoughts, please,” I requested.
“Hmm…” She bit her lip. “How about when we were kissing? I like the kissing.”
I liked the kissing too. She tasted like magic, and I wanted more of it. But I liked more the idea of holding her. Kissing was wonderful, but I loved her in my arms. I liked it when my head lay on her chest too, listening to her heartbeat. I loved her heartbeat. Just a little too fast all the time. Like it wanted to thump right out of her chest and run away.
Layla kissed my throat, right where I knew a bruise was forming. “I wanna take you away from here. Somewhere nice and warm. We can go back to Disneyland if you want.” Her head went under my chin, and her fingers danced on my cheek as she smiled. “I’d want to live on an island all alone with you. Somewhere safe.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “Sing me to sleep…” she started, singing in a whisper.
I rubbed her back as I thought about Disneyland. I thought about when we were on the Pinocchio ride, and the whale spooked her into jumping, and clinging onto me. It was one of the best few seconds of my life, and she had no clue.
“Not true,” she said, accusingly. “I know all.” Her eyes were narrowed at me. “For I am Layla, and I am the Lizard Queen.”
I smiled and stared up at the perfect creature. “You are the most amazing thing in my life.”
She smirked, and kissed the tip of my nose. “I know. And you are mine, my love. Don’t you forget it.”
“I won’t.”
A squeaking sound ripped Layla away from me. A familiar whine from the freezer as the door opened, and light burned my eyes. The bare bulb swung from when it must have been turned on.
When the spots vanished from my vision, I saw my father standing there. He sighed. “Talking to yourself again? You gotta knock that off. It makes you seem weird.”
He held a hand out, and I took it, letting him pull me up, and to my feet. My body ached, and I gasped at it, almost falling again. Dad caught me in time.
“What happened?” he asked. “I told you, kid, you need to stay out of her way when she’s in a mood.”
I spoke, but I sounded like a broken version of myself. Raspy and quiet. “I overslept, and she got pissed.”
Dad nodded. “Ah, I see. Anything broken?”
“I don’t think so. How’s Mom?”
With another heavy sigh, he said, “She’s upset. I’m taking her out, so don’t wait up. Maybe head to bed for the night. Stay out of her sights. Odds are she’ll want to come talk to you tomorrow.”
She usually did.
My dad helped me up the stairs, and I went to my bedroom to close the door. After I assessed the damage and cleaned up, I sat at my desk to write my letter. It wasn’t so bad. I hardly bled at all, and I would mostly be dealing with welts. Better than cuts.
My handwriting was off due to shaky hands and a lot of pain. I downed a few painkillers, so I knew it would dull in a few minutes. And I was cold, so that didn’t help at all.
It was a bad night, but I’d be fine soon. The clock said I was down there for a little over five hours, and I felt it in the extra soreness. My legs were in a bad position for too long, and that was all on me, I knew better than to leave one curled up like I had. They should have been folded, and resting against the side of the freezer. Then I could have lay flat, and my neck wouldn’t hurt so much.
My parents were long gone, and I figured they would stay that way for a while. When Dad took Mom out, I was always asleep before they got home. She liked being away from me after things like this. She didn’t need the reminders afterward. I was actually glad to have the break.
By the time I tucked the letter away, the pills had kicked in. Things dulled, and I could walk without wobbling. I downed a bottle of water and a few candies to ease me along.
I paced my room, stretching out my legs again. Five hours wasn’t the longest I’d been in the box, but it was enough to really hurt. It would take a week before I could function without hurting. But this was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to when Mom told me I needed to be up and around. She was right about me being a leech.
I felt jittery all over as I sat on my bed. I couldn’t really figure out why. Something was off this time, and I didn’t want to lie down here, and go to sleep. I was alone, and I felt every bit of it now. I couldn’t… I couldn’t take it.
It happened like a switch going off, guttural sobbing and gasping for breath. Alone. No one here for me to reach out and touch or to hold me and lie, saying that it would get better. I didn’t have a hand to hold. No skin to touch mine. I felt… all of it.
I closed my eyes as I tucked my head between my knees, letting the soreness of my body make me feel something else other than the weight of this life. I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t want to. Why should I want to be here when I was so alone?
“Benny,” she said as the world drowned me. “Please, Benny. Don’t talk like that. You know what it would do to me if you left.”
Her voice was crystal clear in my head, reminding me of how selfish my choices were. Yes, the real Layla would be upset. She would blame herself for this like she blamed herself every time something went wrong. I couldn’t go to sleep, because it would make her cry. I couldn’t make my life worth anything on my own, but it meant something to her.
I shouldn’t be alone right now. Not when those scissors on my desk looked too shiny and tempting. I wouldn’t let Layla come here, terrified of why I wasn’t picking up and have my mother tell her what I did. I wouldn’t allow her to hurt because of me.
And I was selfish enough to go to her now.
Bennett
t was so dark when I stepped outside, but the walk would be short. There was no snow falling, and it was a blessing, even though the wind was like ice on my damaged skin and my teeth chattered. I would probably catch my death out here, dying before I got to Layla. The cold walk to Layla’s house was an unpleasant one but worth it in the end. Walking at the moment was stupid, but I had to see her. I had to have someone tell me I wasn’t alone. It needed to be her.
I shoved my hands in my pockets as I crossed the street to Layla’s. I wanted to survive the walk. It was so close, and every step to her made me feel lighter. Made the pain in my body lessen. It was as if she was a painkiller all on her own. Did she even understand how important she had become to me?
When I knocked on her door, tension built in my body. What if she was gone? Her parents’ car was gone, and hers was here, so she had to be. I needed her.
The door opened, and it was like rain falling on me in the desert. A relief like nothing else could be. One moment in her eyes was rapture.
“Benny,” she gasped, taking my face in her hands.
I watched her look me over, realizing slowly what happened to me. Her heart broke, and I saw it happen through her eyes. She didn’t say anything else. She shed a tear, and she took my hand to lead me into her home.
I wasn’t sure how long she suspected. Maybe from the very start of this whole thing. I probably didn’t hide it very well, and she was smart. I wore it all on my face, and she knew me too well, seeing so much more than she let on. Right now, all I saw was her pain that I caused. Sympathy, fear, anger, worry. She had it all. But most of all, I saw her love. She cared about me, and that was why I came here.
<
br /> If my mother knew that Layla knew… I didn’t want to think of what would happen. She would hurt me even more for not being careful. Locked up for a whole day this time. She hadn’t done that to me since I was thirteen, but she could do it again if she felt like it. I wouldn’t put anything past her, and this was a big thing to screw up. Mom would be afraid of what would happen to her if Layla told.
Layla brought me to her bedroom where she took my shoes off and sat me on her bed. Music played, and I smiled when I recognized the playlist as one I made her. The Smiths, because it felt so alive to me. And now Layla liked them too. I loved that a little part of me was part of her now. Like I mattered enough for her to make the effort. She’d do that with anyone though. Layla was such a kind soul. So affectionate and compassionate. She was too good for a world like this.
“Lay down,” Layla said when she returned to the bedroom with things to mend me with. The first was a cookie that she shoved into my mouth when I laid down. “I’m gonna take this off, okay?” she asked, pulling at my sweater.
I winced when she got it off my head. Layla covered her mouth in horror when she saw my torso. The bruising would start soon, but it was the red welts she was focused on. She iced them, making some of the swelling go down after a while.
Layla got on the bed and put my head in her lap, cradling me as much as she could. I couldn’t stand the agony in her eyes, and I almost wished I hadn’t come. But I knew she would have been more upset if I hadn’t.
“There wasn’t a car accident,” she muttered, icing my temple.
“No,” I said.
She nodded, chewing on her lip. “Yeah… I thought not.” While her fingertips brushed the side of my face, Layla looked off into oblivion. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
I took her hand from my face, and I laid it over my heart. “I want you to hold me tonight.”
She kissed my forehead and finished patching me up.
I put my sweater back on, and we sat in her bed together. I didn’t want to talk, and she didn’t ask me questions. Clearly, she was waiting for me to offer up information I wasn’t ready to tell her.
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