by TT Kove
‘Go!’ My hand hit her as I threw it out towards her, and she scrambled back, turning a wounded look my way. ‘Go away.’ Tears leaked again from that look. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I had. I couldn’t take those big, wounded eyes staring at me. ‘Please go!’
‘You care more for a dog than yourself?’
Of course I did. I’d experienced so much, so much bad, but I didn’t want her to experience that. She had to leave, she didn’t have to see this, whatever it was he wanted to do to me.
He grabbed me, threw me forwards. We were in the kitchen now, and I hit the edge of the counter before I collapsed on the floor.
‘D-don’t…’ I pushed up, hoping to slip around the kitchen table or grab a knife or anything… but his hand locked around my neck again.
The edge of the table came flying towards me—and blackness played before my eyes as it hit.
I did crumple on the floor then. Something warm ran down the side of my face. It wasn’t tears. It must be blood.
Everything hurts…
‘Good riddance, Joshua.’
Steps. Going away.
I must’ve faded in and out, because I didn’t hear a door. The next thing I heard was a car revving, and then nothing until there was an ear-splitting crash.
I hope he wrapped that car of his around a lamp post. I hope it wraps around him and crushes him.
The pain had stopped… I didn’t feel anything.
And then it all went black.
The verdict. It was ready, it was being read.
My hands were balled into fists, so tight I was losing blood flow. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the verdict.
The foreperson answered a question. Yes, the verdict was ready. No, it was not unanimous.
Not unanimous?
Someone didn’t agree?
But what didn’t they agree with? That Andrew was guilty? Did someone think I was lying?
I wasn’t.
How could I make something as awful as this up? How could someone choose not to believe with all the evidence?
My journals… Did they think a ten-year-old kid would make up what was depicted in one of the earliest journals?
I held my breath, sitting as quietly as I could, scared to hear the verdict, scared I’d miss it.
The foreperson parted her lips…
I watched them, transfixed.
‘We find the defendant…’
Oh god. Please, please, please. End this. Don’t let him walk off now, not after everything.
‘Guilty.’
35
Crying Game
Josh
I heard the beeping first.
Then sniffling.
My eyelids fought me, but I managed to force them slightly open. All I saw was the ceiling. My neck fought me next, but I did manage to turn it a little. And now I did see.
I saw Damian.
And he was crying.
He was sitting in a chair, like he’d done the last time I’d woken up in hospital, but this time he looked starkly different. He’d been worried, scared then too, but now… He looked wounded. He was hunched over, temple resting against the back of his hand, which again rested against the wall.
His eyes… they were red-rimmed and sore.
I’d seen Damian worried, I’d seen him panicked, I’d seen him with tears in his eyes, but this… this was so much more.
This was grief.
Andrew!
My whole body shuddered at the name, at what now flashed before me inside my mind. A shaking breath left me—and that brought Damian’s attention to me.
‘Josh!’ He stood so quickly from the chair that for a second it was on the verge of tilting over.
I wanted to speak, to say his name, but the memories consumed me. The last few minutes of my life—or so it had seemed.
Why wasn’t I dead?
He’d wanted me dead.
Why hadn’t he done the job properly?
‘An-Andrew—’
Damian’s face, which had turned from grief to relief, now clouded over.
‘Back in prison. Where he belongs.’
Still alive. But back behind bars. It was something, at least. Though I really had hoped he rot.
There were so much else I wanted to ask. My throat worked, but no words came out.
‘Rest, Josh.’ He stroked my cheek, forehead, other cheek. ‘Rest up.’
His voice was deceptively calm and collected, but his eyes… they weren’t. They told a whole other story. A really bad story.
I hoped he hadn’t been the one to find me. I had no idea what kind of state I’d been in. Last I remembered was my head connecting against the table.
Please don’t let him be the one who found me.
‘Please, Josh. Go to sleep. You need to rest.’ He was begging me now.
I did as he pleaded me to do. It didn’t even require anything from me—I easily slipped back into sleep. It was like I drifted, awake to asleep, and then back again to reality once in a while.
I could’ve been drifting in and out for mere minutes or hours, I had no idea. All I knew was my head was spinning from it whenever I did wake. I heard voices but couldn’t make them out, because I drifted back into darkness before anything registered.
But now… now I didn’t fall back asleep. I kept my eyes closed, because it was so comfortable, but I could hear whispered voices in the room.
‘You need to go home, Damian.’ It was Mum.
‘I can’t leave him.’
‘You’ve been here for days. You haven’t gone home, haven’t been to school, haven’t showered, haven’t slept, haven’t relaxed—’
‘How can I possibly relax?’ It came out forceful. I’d never heard Damian be forceful with my mum before. Not with anyone, really.
Silence.
‘I know you’re worried. I know you’re afraid. We all are. But he woke up, Damian. He’ll come through this.’ Mum sounded so sure.
‘Will he?’ Damian wasn’t though. He sounded like me now: eternal pessimist. ‘When he wakes up properly, when he’s starting to ask questions—I have to tell him. You really think he’ll be okay once he knows?’
Mum didn’t answer.
Maybe she nodded—or shook her head.
Likely the latter.
When was I ever okay? Whatever it was that had happened… It must be bad.
I thought back. Andrew had slammed my head against the table. I’d fallen to the floor.
‘Good riddance, Joshua.’
It was like he was standing next to me, that’s how well his voice rang in my ear.
But he’d walked away. He’d left me there on the floor. Left me to die. I’d heard him rev his car… and I’d heard a crash. I’d hoped he’d die. He was alive though. Alive and well, in prison once again. So what could be so bad?
My blood ran cold. Had he come back for me again? Had he done something to me whilst I’d been unconscious? Whilst I’d been lying there in my own blood, slowly dying? Had he come back to have his way with me once again?
My chest hurt, my breath heaved painfully.
There was a sudden commotion around me, but nothing could penetrate my own terror at not being able to breathe, at not being able to know what had been done to me.
And then all went dark again.
I was alone.
My room was eerily quiet, despite the beeping of one of those machines still hooked up to me. Did they think I was going to fall back into unconsciousness? Or was it standard procedure? Likely the latter. I should know this, considering all the time I’d spent in hospital in my life. But I didn’t.
Still.
The beeping was annoying.
Where were everyone? Last time I’d been in hospital—by my own doing, none the less, whereas this time was certainly not my fault—someone had been with me at all times possible.
Now I was alone.
Completely, utterly alone.
I was more lucid now than I’d been
back then. I was able to speak and I wanted to ask questions. I had to know. I couldn’t stand lying here without any idea what had happened after I’d passed out. What he’d done to me.
But that crash…
My eyes fell shut as I tried to remember. I’d been fading, but I had definitely heard a crash. What had that been all about? He hadn’t crashed his bloody car into the house, had he?
I jerked forwards, a little too quick for my head’s liking, as I now groaned in pain. After tentatively feeling the bandage that was wrapped around it, making sure it was in place, I lay back against my pillow.
He can’t have ruined the house.
Ray and Claire loved their house, it was their dream home. They spent so much time and energy and money on upkeep, so that they had a home they could live in for the rest of their lives.
Not knowing what had happened was killing me.
I had to know.
What had he done to me?
Besides making sure my head connected against the table and then, presumably anyway, leaving me to die.
A doctor appeared in the doorway.
Here was a chance of finally getting some answers.
‘What happened to me? Besides the head injury—’
He regarded me in silence for a long moment.
‘There was just the head trauma.’
‘But—’ That didn’t make any sense. ‘He didn’t do anything to me? Anything else?’
‘The head trauma was quite severe. You were in a coma for four days.’
Coma?
For four days?
I blinked. No wonder Damian had looked wrecked. No wonder he and Mum had been whispering about not telling me something.
It was this.
Coma.
I lay quietly as he checked me over, retreating into my own mind which flashed the word coma in bright neon letters so it was impossible to ignore. In a coma. I hadn’t even been in a coma when I’d overdosed on my stupid pills… No wonder Damian had been crying when I first woke up.
The doctor left.
Time ticked by.
I was alone.
No one came.
Where were they? Had they all given up on me?
But this wasn’t my fault.
I can’t be held liable for this.
‘Hey, Josh.’
I started.
Silver and Kian were there, both peering down at me in worry.
‘Oh, hey.’ I couldn’t hide my disappointment.
‘Not who you wanted to see, were we?’ Silver’s lips hitched up barely, on one side.
‘Damian hasn’t been here today.’ Okay, that was a bit unfair. It wasn’t long since I’d woken up, after all, and I didn’t know which day it was.
Was this the same day as I’d first woken? The same day as when I’d overheard Damian and Mum? Or was this another day entirely?
I had no idea. It was disorienting.
‘He’ll be back. He had something to do.’
His voice had turned… weird.
‘What did he have to do?’
‘He’ll tell you when he gets here, I reckon.’
It was my turn to peer up at him. Something was going on. Something was wrong. I felt it in my whole body.
‘I’m so happy you’re okay.’ Kian bent down to hug me—gingerly so, as I must have looked pretty fragile in a hospital bed and with my head in bandages. He also pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek, which was nice.
‘Four days in a coma.’ I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Who would after waking up and hearing that? ‘The doctor said so.’
They both nodded gravely.
‘He’s right. Four days. We’ve been worried.’ Silver was the one to speak.
What must Damian have gone through for four days? And Mum too…
Tears were pressing.
Again.
Was I ever going to stop crying? It was getting tiresome—and if it was getting tiresome for me, it definitely had to be so for everyone else.
‘I wish he’d come see me.’
‘He’s been here nearly twenty-four seven since you were admitted.’
Speaking of which…
‘Who found me? In the house—and the dog! Is she okay?’
‘The dog’s fine.’ Silver exchanged a look with Kian, but quickly turned his attention back to me.
Kian stared at the floor, biting his lower lip.
Why were they acting so weird?
‘She got scared away, if even that. I’m not sure the dog even understands what happened, but at least she wasn’t hurt.’
‘They can be quite smart.’ She was just a puppy though. ‘So who found me?’
I hoped it wasn’t Damian.
Or Mum. She’d found me unconscious more than enough already.
I hoped it wasn’t Ray or Claire or Matilda or Matt either…
I hoped it was a stranger, but that was too much to hope for. Why would a stranger come into the house when no one else were home?
‘It was Matt.’
No.
Matt had enough as it was, what with him possibly cutting himself. Possibly being depressed. Finding me unconscious on the floor, likely with blood on and around me, was not going to be of any help to his mental state. If indeed there was a condition, which I couldn’t be entirely sure of. It could just be teenaged brooding.
They exchanged glances again. They were keeping something back from me. Something I wasn’t supposed to know.
I didn’t have the energy or the will to demand answers.
Matt had found me.
It would’ve been better if it was anyone else—well, not Matilda either, but she seemed in better mental health than Matt, so…
The sound of steps alerted me to presence of other people outside my room. I heard heels clacking against the floor—and then Mum breezed into the room, quickly followed by Damian.
Mum was stony-faced.
Damian looked miserable.
‘Hey.’ I glanced anxiously between them. ‘I’m fine. Really.’
They didn’t have to look like that. It might’ve been bad, but it wasn’t anymore.
Unless the doctor had shared something with them he hadn’t told me?
But he couldn’t lie to me if Andrew had done more to me… could he?
At my side, I saw Kian grab a hold of Silver’s hand.
‘Let’s leave them alone.’
Silver nodded, then reached out to pat my shoulder.
‘See you later, Josh.’
The four of them exchanged silent nods as Silver and Kian left.
Damian and Mum took their places next to my bed. Mum took the chair, Damian perched at edge of my bed.
‘What’s wrong?’ There had to be something. ‘What’s wrong with me? The doctor said it was only the head injury—I feel fine.’
‘You’ll be fine, Joshua.’ Mum glanced up at Damian, who was resolutely staring down at the floor.
If I would be fine, it wasn’t me making them look like this. I fumbled for Damian’s hand. Squeezed it once I found it.
‘What’s the matter? Damian…’
His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed heavily.
‘Is it Matt?’
He’d found me. Perhaps it had been too much, perhaps something had happened. Perhaps he had done something.
Like I frequently did.
‘It’s not Matt.’ Damian shook his head. He stared at the floor for several long moments, then he seemed to force his head up to meet my gaze. ‘It’s Ray. When Andrew—when he left you in there, he—’ He choked up.
My heart and gut clenched painfully.
Mum glanced between us.
‘He was reversing his car, trying to get away in a hurry so he was going at full speed, and the back of his car crashed right into the driver’s side of Ray’s car.’
Now I glanced between them.
‘Is he okay?’ He couldn’t be, not judging by the look on Damian’s face. ‘Where is he? What happened to him? You
s-said An-Andrew was back in prison, so he m-must be okay.’ I was so afraid, so upset, I stuttered. Bloody hell.
‘Ray wasn’t, Joshua. He wasn’t okay at all. It was quite an impact, right into the driver’s side. That side was wrecked, as well as the backside of Andrew’s. He walked away with minimal damage. Ray… he didn’t walk away at all.’
No!
‘No.’ It couldn’t be. ‘Damian?’
He shook his head, staring down at our hands now.
‘He’s dead? Andrew killed him?’
‘He did. I’m sorry, Joshua.’ Mum reached out to squeeze my arm, since my hand was still holding tight to Damian’s.
That was the crash I’d heard right before I’d passed out.
I’d hoped he’d wrapped his car around a lamp post, but it had been Ray’s car… He’d been on his way home and Andrew had just rammed into him in his own selfish attempt to try and flee the scene after attempting to kill me.
Which he hadn’t succeeded in, but he’d killed Ray instead.
I wished he’d killed me, like he’d planned. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have been driving away exactly when he did, maybe then Ray could still be alive.
Matilda and Matt didn’t have their dad anymore… Damian didn’t have his uncle, who had been like a father to him.
I cried for real now. It wasn’t a shock. I seemed to spend half my time crying. Life was overwhelming, and my feelings to everything that happened to me in life was overwhelming.
Now more than ever.
I couldn’t breathe, the sobs wrecked me.
Ray was dead. One bad experience, one meeting with Andrew, and he was dead. And here I was, living through his abuse for ten years, living through the wreck he left me, suicide attempts, and now his attempt to kill me—and I was still alive.
It wasn’t fair. It should be me, not him. Ray didn’t deserve to suffer because of Andrew. He was my burden, my abuser, my nightmare, my biggest fear.
I couldn’t calm down, still couldn’t breathe. Panic was setting in.
Maybe I’m going to die anyway.
‘Josh. Josh, come on.’
Someone was holding me. My face was pressed against a flat, hard chest.
Damian.
He was still here with me, and he wasn’t leaving. He was the only one I had to live for—Mum too, of course, but she had someone else, a life without me. Damian had only me now, he needed me, and I couldn’t turn into the mess I usually was.
