I didn't care for the whispers I kept hearing around me early in the morning, nor did I care for the gossip going on around me. None of that shit ever really did interest me in the first place unless it was about...well I don't even want to even think about him right now.
I've finally got a good night of sleep last night and I wanted to keep on feeling refreshed. On top of that, I was growing more comfortable in enjoying my own company, so I was alone most of the time. This move had apparently made me more popular as people assumed I had gained a mysterious aura. In reality, I've just been fighting to keep my mind from breaking.
Therapy helps, but my family has become divided because of it. My father started to act like everyone turned against him, which made him constantly hostile towards everyone. It revealed a huge problem I realized that we had all ignored, which was the tendency to go along with whatever dad said so he wouldn't get upset. He had somehow cultivated a new sense of hate towards me for this and the tension at home has since been rising.
He didn't even come to see Giacomo off to the airport, knowing that we wouldn't see him for about another nine months because of school. Now with my mom standing up for me and not really listening to my dad anymore, my dad started to act on his hate. He'd start arguments for no reason just so he had excuses to lash out, he'd glare at me in an obvious way every time I'd walked into a room he was in, and he would be extremely passive aggressive towards my mother, frustrating her.
As stressful as he was being, my mother had done a complete 180 almost overnight. She started to tell me that she loves me and actually started praising me on getting good marks in school. She took me to the mall and had gotten me a bunch of things having to do with stars and space, a passion I had given up on for fear she might ruin it. She pawned a necklace she liked to buy me an expensive telescope. She even comforted me after my father started to throw a fit about my new stuff, telling me that it was my father's choice to stay miserable.
For the first time in my life, I experienced a mother, and it felt...like I still had nothing. Nothing about her changing made me feel good, because I knew it was all an act.
"Yo!" Sam put his bag down next to me and sat down all smiles. Looking at him, I could see vulgar purple hickeys littering his neck.
"Good weekend?" I asked. Waiting for him to just get his story about some random out so he could talk about literally anything else.
"Definitely, I met my fiancé for the first time yesterday. She's all innocent on the outside, but she's an animal in the bedroom. A wild virgin, very compatible. The chemistry is just out of this world, and when she talks, I actually want to listen to what she has to say next because it challenges me to think and she actually changed my mind about a few things. Plus she's looks amazing. It's so stimulating to talk to a girl with many dimensions. I never thought I'd like curves so much, but I'm in love," he rambled. "This girl is a real catch!"
"Congratulations," I mumbled. As much as I knew this was a big deal for someone like Sam, I didn't think I'd hear something so shocking as him being so into a girl not just for sex. Maybe he could actually pull that husband shit off. "At least you got a good one."
"Soyoung isn't just good. She's perfect!"
"Ok, dude," I put my hands up in surrender. "You got a perfect one."
"How're things at home?" Sam asked. He wasn't privy to everything that was going on, as I didn't fully trust this guy. There was no way that there wasn't any ulterior motive to him being nice to me, even if I haven't found one yet.
"Fine, better," I lied. With the way things are truly going, I'd be run of the house before the end of the school year by my father. Or worse. With the way things have been going down, and the hateful way my father glared at me, his hostility might end up killing me soon. "Hey, if anything happens to me...just make sure my brother is fine."
"What's been going on?"
"Nothing, just thought I'd make a plan for the future," I said. "Can you assure me or not?"
"Yeah, I can," Sam told me. I nodded in thanks and put my head back down on my desk. If anything, the back up plan wouldn't be necessary, because there was still time to turn my situation around with my dad. I just have to find a way that he would react well to.
My mind flashed back to the time where I hinted to my dad that I might be attracted to Danny when I was 12. At first he didn't say anything, he pulled me by my arm into the car with a red puffy and angry face, and drove until we reached a hotel just down the road from our house. I was scared and he knew it, he fed off of it, he got some kind of pleasure from it. It was silent all the way up into the room, and I was shaking. I remember getting to the room and waiting what seemed years before he slid the room key into the door.
All I really remember from that night was him pushing me into the room and beating me til was completely black and blue. Oh and don't forget red, there was a lot of red, a lot of blood. After being smacked around for a good half hour nonstop, I then blacked out after some point.
I remember waking up from a bucket of cold water being splashed on my face. Everywhere hurt. He spit in my face, and told me no son of his would be a stupid faggot. And in a moment of stupid boldness, I told him that if that was the case, he would have no son.
Needless to say, I didn't leave that hotel room for a while.
After a week of intense pain, he finally told me to get my ass back to the house and act like this never happened. And that I did. I walked home in the rain, finally coming through the door black and blue and in so much pain. To the scolding of my mother who just thought I was acting up and getting into trouble.
After that my father grew to deal with the fact that I might be gay, but his anger never faded, and it never would. He took out whatever frustrations he has on me, sometimes he would scream and call me Montenegro after some lady, calling her an ungrateful bitch and asks why he's not good enough while he choked the breath out of me. Sometimes he would scream and call me Santorini and swears he's going to kill me and beat his company while he repeatedly punched me at full force. Sometimes he just yelled about how everyone in this family is a no good piece of shit except him while he decorates my back with horrible raised lashes from his belt, he favors when he manages to hit me with the metal clip at the end.
But the problem is never me. It's never because I might be gay. I'm just the one who fucked up first, and there to be his punching bag, his puppet, his ragdoll. And somehow for the past few years I've managed to keep this a secret and bury it.
In doing so, I shifted all the blame to my mother. While she was partially to blame, I was upset that I couldn't stay mad at her as well for going along with it.
The truth about my father is that he's an abusive fuck who doesn't know shit about his family. The truth is that my mother doesn't actually love me unconditionally, never wanted any of me, and just wants to look good in front of her snobby friends and coworkers. The truth is that I have been screwed out my own happiness over, and over, and over again by both my parents.
The truth is that I'm 17 and have never gotten a birthday present from my parents that wasn't broken or taken away. The truth is that I have to constantly sacrifice for them because for some dumb fucking reason I want to do it. Because if I don't they will have to live my life. And my life sucks, and I want my life to be over.
The truth is that, in some ways, I'm exactly like my father and that hurt me the most.
"You sure you're ok, dude? You look a bit grim," Sam poked me. "You've also became super withdrawn. Let me take you out to meet people so you can have some human interaction."
"No thanks, I feel fine on my own. I'm just....socially burnt out, Sam," I said. "I'm taking a break."
"Oh, ok," he said before turning to the people who usually hovered around me and talking to them. Thankfully he could see that while I was in a very good mood, I still didn't feel like talking.
I wonder if I deserved a friend like him. I don't exactly have a good track record with treating people very well, but I seem to be doing alright with Sam so far.
School went by as usual, I kept to myself, avoided interacting with people whenever possible and didn't draw attention to myself. It wasn't working for me at all. My way to the bus stop was uneventful, as was the ride home.
It was when I hopped off the bus that I noticed anything weird. Martin set his water bottle down and curled his lips in slightly, before taking off his blazer, and threw it on top of his bag. He also took off his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. He offered no explanation.
He didn't have too, because he was walking towards them like a bat out of Hell. He looked angry. Martin seemed to virtually tower over me in this moment, and had a lot more muscle then i could ever hope to have again since he kept up with working out. "Vincenzo, I'd just like to remind you that this is not a death sentence, just karma. My grandparents won't appreciate me sending you home in a box." I just grunted in his general direction as a response.
"Alright then." I commented, and was tempted to look away so he wouldn't have to see the clear intent to murder me on his face. The fact that he looked like he had gained weight in muscle didn't help. "Your belt might-"
"You need all the advantages, you can get." Martin shrugged. I see there was no getting out of this no matter what.
"Well I suppose it's my problem." I sighed.
I lifted my head to face Martin, who punched me square in the face with a force I never imagined. I stumbled back, and feeling the painful sting and trained my eyes on him. His grey eyes became impossibly more grey, and he looked rightly pissed off. Martin looked at me, as if to say 'get ready for more', i kicked him in the stomach before he could throw a second punch. A trickle of blood escaped my nose, and Martin doubled over as he wiped his mouth.
Martin smiled, and neatly moved away from my sloppy attempt a hit back and smashed his elbow over my head as he tried to get back up. He must have knocked me off balance because i fell down and landed on the ground. Martin stopped and let me get up.
When I charged at him, Martin simply stepped to the side, and twisted around in time to grab my fist before I could delivered any blow onto his face, and twisted my hand fiercely, causing a sharp pain to emulate up and down my arm.
He released my hand only after using his knee to jab me in the stomach. I staggered backwards, and Martin kicked me in the shins, and I fell again. "Get up." Martin said, in a dangerously icy tone. I did and threw a punch in Martin's direction. I got a hit, but Martin managed to punch me back right after, and I felt my nose crack. He hit me again, this time in the chest, and something that I was very sure is not meant to crack, cracked. I staggered backwards trying to catch my breath as my vision blurred from the pain, and I leaned over to punch him in the jaw, twice.
I fell again, this time my cry was in pain from my chest. Martin drove his foot into his ribs twice, before stopping.
"Get up." he told me, who just groaned on the sidewalk. I don't want this!
"You win, Martin, you win!" I said, as Martin starred menacingly down at home.
"I told you to get up." He said, his voice was soft, but menacing. It made me shiver, because Martin looked like he was plotting murder, after launching a missile into another country and starting another three World Wars. He seemed more annoyed about my blood on his shirt.
I looked at Martin with desperate eyes. He stared back at me, he seemed to have some kind of strange honor system thing going on. Martin drove his foot into my stomach angrily. "What part of get up don't you understand?" He shouted, grabbing me by the back of the shirt and dragging me up to look him in the face. "How many times did you stop, because someone asked you?" He shouted, before throwing me aside with a strength that I didn't know he possessed.
I, by some miracle managed to get to my feet, only for Martin to punch me in the face and send me sprawling back to the ground, grazing my cheek on the pavement. Martin rubbed his fist with his other hand. I put my hands out and started to try and get up before my arms shook and gave way.
"Get up." He said, and I felt compelled to move a few feet back because i had clearly underestimated Martin. Everyone had.
I groaned, but refused to get up. Martin stomped on my hand, and I felt the pain of my fingers being crushed under his heels. "Get up!" He yelled, as I struggled to my feet. I didn't even try and stop Martin knocking me to the ground with a knee to the genitals. After waiting almost a whole minute, he started again. "Get up." He said. He didn't even sound tired, or like my blood on his face bothered him. I shook my head no, and actually started crying. He didn't care. He grabbed me by the shirt front and punched me square in the face, one more time before he threw me to the ground and stood up. "Get up." He said, again. I physically couldn't. Martin seemed to know this so he squatted down next to me.
Martin grabbed me by the shirt front again and pulled me up so we were face to face. "It's not so fun when they fight back, is it?" he shouted at me, as I was sobbing and shaking my head. "It's not fun when they don't stop is it?"He shouted, and threatened to punch me again with his other hand. He drew my downed body even closer then i thought he would dare. "I swear to God that if i could, I'd murder you. But believe it or not, I just came here to let you experience what it was like to be in Danny's shoes."
"It's already over between him and I," I gasped in pain. Who knew that this was the pain I had set Danny up for? Martin was a lot stronger than I had ever given him credit for. No wonder Danny had to go to the hospital after Martin had attacked him.
If I was this hurt, what did Danny feel? It suddenly became much clearer as to why Danny would never think to choose me.
"I know," Martin sighed. "Despite that, this still makes me feel a lot better."
"Martin," I pulled myself up painfully into a sitting position. "I'm sorry."
"Because I kicked your ass?"
"No! I'm sorry because I never tried to see you as a real person! I'm sorry I thought of you as nothing more than someone I can manipulate! I'm sorry I took advantage of you for so long!" I took a deep painful breath. "I'm sorry that I lied to you all that time about Danny."
"Why couldn't you just say that you liked Danny as well? You would've won over me anyway," Martin said. "It's not like I ever had a chance since he liked you back then."
"My father would never let it slide." I said. "He would've been really pissed off. I didn't want that."
"So why couldn't you leave him to me?"
"Because I didn't want that either. My obsession with Danny was already full blown at that point. If anyone else had really liked him back then, I would've lost my shit," I admitted. "Actually....when you told me that you liked Danny, I did lose my shit. That's why I started feeding you lies. That's why I kept isolating Danny from everyone but me."
"Why was it necessary for you to pretend you were my friend?"
"To make sure you didn't have a change of heart, and to make Danny feel unwanted and want me more," I answered truthfully.
"So all those times we hung out, even without Danny, were just you faking it?"
I did genuinely have fun hanging out with Martin. Only in his absence did I realize what I had lost. I missed talking to him about stupid shit. I miss playing Xbox, drinking and smoking with him. I miss just being a stupid teenager and having fun with him.
But facts are facts.
"Yes, it was all me getting back at Danny because he didn't want to stick to just me." I confessed.
"Why would you want that?"
"Danny liked me more than my parents, and I just wanted to keep it to myself. It's my own fault that things turned out the way they did. I should've just followed your lead and been honest with him. It's too late now."
Martin let out a deep sigh. "Even for you to steal him from Ashton?"
"Yes. I bullied him the worst of everyone. I almost killed him when I spiked his drink at that party because I pretended not to know that he was allergic to alcohol. I took his inhaler on our joint family vacations so he couldn't have any fun on the trip. One time he really almost died all alone because of it. I ruined him having any kind of social life for all theses years just because I felt I didn't want to share him," I said. "Worst of all, I stressed him out to the point where he was sick and weak. Even when it was too much for him, I didn't stop torturing him. I'm just a stain on his life. There's zero chance for me."
"Then I guess you're going through it, too," Martin helped me to stand up straight. "As much as I hate it, we have way more than I thought in common. I thought of Danny as my savior as well."
"Savior?"
"Well yeah, I don't receive love at home, but Danny gave it unconditionally, so naturally I fell for him quickly because I thought he would save me from that. It was like he was the only good part of a shitty world. Isn't it the same for you?" Martin asked.
"Yeah," I groaned. Danny was always the best part of my life, so much so, that I still didn't want to let the idea of being with him go. He was the only nice part of my life, even when I really didn't deserve it! "I love him, but I messed up badly. Now he's with Ashton."
"I don't like it either, but I can't do anything about it now."
"I'm told Ashton is taking good care of him," I scowled as i flash backed to hearing them in his car. "I don't like it at all. What the hell can he really do for him?"
"A lot more than we ever could." Martin shook his head.
"What're you talking about? What life could Danny have on a farm."
"Ashton's family owns over a few thousand farms worldwide. They've also been connected to some members of the royal family. Ashton's actually pretty loaded," Martin said.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Is that why he sent me to that super fancy therapy clinic? Is that why he handed me all that money for a cab? Why has he been hiding the fact that he was rich?
"Ashton's one of the rich kids, and he's not from a gangster background like we thought," Martin laughed. "At least we pushed Danny into a better situation."
The air had lightened considerably since a few minutes ago. From hostile to whatever this was right now. Regardless, the guilt I felt towards him kept eating away at my soul, making it hurt. "I regret everything, Martin. I regret it so much, and I'm really sorry. You really were the only real friend I had, and I ruined that myself."
"Do you think I'm stupid for real?" He suddenly asked.
"No, just way too loyal. I'm sorry I took advantage of that too."
"Well, it's not like you made me beat him up."
"I became the abusive piece of shit my father is," I grimaced. Martin, having insight into my relationship with my father, immediately knew what I was talking about. "Im sorry for dragging you down with me."
"Well, I have my own problems with my parents, that's what made it so easy for us to get along like we did. I'm an abusive piece of shit regardless of you."
"How are things at your home?" I asked.
"Dad died from a broken neck, mom's away in rehab, and I'm living separately on my own on my grandparents dime," Martin said. I knew he had been saving money from his part time job, but I didn't think he had enough yet for an apartment.
"Why didn't you say anything about your dad?" I asked.
"Because, you don't talk about trash when it's gone."
"How did he die?"
"He was drinking and then he was at the bottom of the staircase to the basement," Martin said. I gave him a serious look. Martin had often told me about the abuse he endured from the hands of his father. From having cigarettes put out on his palms, to bring whipped with anything that could leave a mark, to coping with constant threats of being sold to a perverted man for some extra gambling money, he had it the worst of us two. He often fantasized out loud about killing his dad one day and making it look like an accident. "Can you believe it?"
Did he go through with it? "You pushed him, didn't you?"
"You already know the answer to that and if I was afraid of you telling on me, I would've just continued beating you until you died."
"Why tell me at all?"
"Because I thought back and I don't believe that you didn't feel the brotherhood at all. We've seen and been through too much for that to be true. We know too much about each other for everything to have been faked." Martin said. "That being said, I can see that your apology is genuine and that you're truly miserable. Unlike my dad, who was unrepentant until the end, you actually showed remorse."
"Is life better with him dead like you thought?"
"Yes. I'll never see my mother again, but I wish I had gotten her too. Rehab is too good for her," he shivered. "Don't give me that look. I'm happy he's gone, but I think he's haunting me. Sometimes, even in my new apartment, I can hear him yelling at me or he appears in my mirrors if I don't get enough sleep. It's not my fault that he broke his fucking neck, all I did was push him. I mean it was already ruled an accident."
"Did you tell the cops that you pushed him?"
"Yeah. It was in self defense after all."
"I understand why you did it then, he was going to sell you to that old guy for liquor and poker money," I patted his shoulder. If it were me, I probably would've done that as well if my father was planning to sell me to some old pervert for a few drinks and a card game. He must've been really desperate.
Martin look super relieved when I said this and dropped his guard completely. "I knew you'd understand how desperate I was. You know the motherfucker had life insurance? Half a million, but he acted like we were so poor. Since my mom's in rehab I get to handle it all when I'm eighteen, she won't get a thing."
"That's good, you can start a new life with that," I said.
"Come live with me, we can really be brothers, you'd be helping me mentally by being there and you can finally leave those people in that house," Martin said.
"Are you sure you want me there? After everything I did to you? Why me?"
"We're brothers, and it's hard for me to trust people. As long as you promise not to manipulate me again, we can definitely get past it. I think a month was a good healing period for me, but I miss my brother now. Plus I think I kicked your ass pretty good. Consider us even."
"Give me a day or two to decide, man. I at least need to tell my little brother and make a plan to move myself," I said. "A-are you still in school?"
"Yeah, Kensington Prep. I'm not saying drop out or anything. I'll help you get a job where I work so you can be independent too. A convenience store isn't a huge deal, but they're hiring," Martin looked extremely excited. "Why'd you get so weak and soft? We used to be almost evenly matched."
"I stopped playing football, and I'm just trying to keep myself from falling apart. I feel like a piece of shit everyday and my dad doesn't even want me there, the house is tense as hell and my mom is trying with me but it feels too late now," I blurted out. Getting that out felt almost cathartic. Almost as much as the feeling of having my brother back. "I don't deserve your friendship."
"No one deserves anything in life, Vin, that's why we work for what we want." Martin scoffed picking up his blazer and his bag. "Go home and think about it."
"How can you forgive me so easily?" I asked.
"You're not dating him and your life sucks too a asked I beat you up. Plus, I'm a bit stupid. Now, let's exchange numbers," Martin held his phone out to me. I took a good look at Martin through my swelling eye as we put each others numbers in our phones. He looked more well rested than I had ever seen him and his new buzz cut really suited him. He looked a lot more mature now. "I've got to get to work now, I'll see you around. Just let me know your decision. If you decide to stay at home, I'll understand."
"Yeah, I'll see you around. I'm glad you're doing well," I said. Martin pulled me into a tight friendly hug before leaving with a smile. He's still a fucking weirdo too.
My walk home felt the most pleasant it's been since I pretended to get along with Danny. Maybe moving in with Martin far away from home would be the better course of action for me. Or maybe he was just luring me there to murder me as well because he knows that no one will look for me.
Either way, it was better than living at my home.
"What happened to your face?!" My mother screamed as I walked into my house. I looked at her fretting over me and, though I enjoyed it, I couldn't help but feel absolutely disgusted by her. It wasn't clear if she was doing all this as an act or if she really felt bad, but it was still disgusting to me. "Sit right there, I'll get the first aid kit!"
She rushed off leaving me in the kitchen on my own only for my dad to enter as soon as she was out of ear shot. He gave me a once over before shaking his head.
At least he didn't pretend. "I'm leaving." I said. I heard a box drop behind me. Dammit, she's back. Well at least I won't have to repeat it. "I got a roommate, so I'll move out as soon as I can."
"B-but why?" Mom looked at me teary eyed. "I thought we were fixing everything between us and-"
"Let's just stop pretending it's going to work, mom. I can't do this anymore with you guys, it's draining the life out of me. I can start fresh if I go and that way everyone won't turn on dad," i saw my dad pause. "I just don't want to keep breaking up the family. Giacomo needs that at least."
"But what about school?" Dad snapped. I don't feel like I said anything wrong, but he was looking at me like he hated me. It's like a knife to the heart.
"I'm still going to graduate. Then I'll go to work or something, I just can't be here anymore," I said. "Hopefully I'll get a scholarship from the grades I already have."
"You have to leave and you say it's for us-"
"You didn't say goodbye to Giacomo because of me. I don't want to keep feeling like I'm the reason everything here fell apart. Now mom and Giacomo won't be against you anymore," I explained myself. "It can finally be peaceful here instead of everyone tiptoeing around the problem."
My dad slammed his coffee mug onto the ground making it shatter at my feet. As I watched the mug shatter, I looked to my left just in time to see him flying towards me. Unable to get away in time, my dad made direct contact with me in a viscous tackle. His elbow met my rib in a devastating blow, a gorey crack being heard as I fell. I couldn't help the sharp yell of pain that I emitted as my back met the ground.
Immediately the everything seemed to be engulfed in silence, and then chaos. There was screaming, fighting arguing, and finally, someone registered that I needed help.
I layed there in a daze, yet again vaguely hearing all the chaos go on around him accompanied by an annoying ringing sound. My head was swimming, the pain was unbearable, unlike the usual beatings. My chest was hurting, and my breathing was getting ragged. I could vaguely hear and feel the presence of my mother above me, but when I opened my eyes, I couldn't focus, couldn't register anything but pain. Someone was tapping my face, telling me not to pass out. Funny, i felt like sleeping would be the only thing to help me at this point, and it sounded rather appealing.
A new voice was talking to me now, and suddenly a bright light was being flashed in my eyes. I felt something being strapped over my face forcing air down my throat and I felt as thought I was floating before everything faded to black.
When I opened my eyes, I saw my mother sitting there alone with puffy red eyes staring out of the window, as if she had been drained of life. I reached for the oxygen mask over my face but was stopped by her super speed.
"I'm sorry," she said. She took out her phone and showed me what she was talking about. She held up a picture of my back, which was covered in scars of all kinds. But mostly lashes, ranging from thin to thick. From the looks of it made with a belt. They were raised and angry looking. Some still healing, some fully healed and the scars just resting there.
I was appalled at how bad it had gotten even though it was healed.
I honestly couldn't tell whether I was awake or dreaming. On one hand, i couldn't be sleeping, because there were no nightmares and Danny wasn't here. But on the other hand, i had to be sleeping, because my mind was foggy and unfocused. For what felt like hours, I drifted in this inbetween state, neither concious or unconcious, until a soft nudging shook me into reality.
Opening me eyes, I registered that i was indeed in a hospital room, and the person doing the nudging was Martin. I was confused, and as I sat up, happy that the breathing mask was off, the pain started to set in. I was getting blurry flashbacks, but i couldn't seem to piece together why Martin would be here.
"...M-Martin? What's going on? I don't remember going to sleep. What time is it?" I asked. Martin sat down in a wooden chair and spoke with a level tone.
"It's just about 3 o'clock now, school ended about an hour ago," he sighed.
"What? That's not possible, I was just at home telling my parents that I'm moving out...right?" Martin had a somber look on his face, something he didn't wear often. I was not liking where this was going.
Coughing a little and straighetning out his stance, Martin looked me in the eye and said, "Actually Vinny, you've been asleep for about two days, you were pretty out of it, so your mom told me to just let you sleep. I was pretty worried when she called me all of a sudden, I wanted to make sure you were okay and all that. Even made me promise to make sure your back to normal and they can have a normal conversation."
I was thrown for a loop. Two days?! How did I even sleep that long? And why? Bits and pieces were coming back to me, being injured, but somehow still achieving something. After that, it was all black.
"Fuck, my head!" I snapped. It made no sense!Pulling the chair closer to the bed, Martin sat facing me, and I sat up as much as possible giving him my full attention. "What's the matter? Is everything okay?" I asked.
Martin laughed. "Actually, for once i'm not the one in trouble." I was confused. Then what did he want to talk about?
"Vinny, by an chance...do you remember what happened when you got home yesterday?" That was a weird question. Wracking my brain, i tried to recall the ending more clearly, but once again fell short.
"...Not really. I remember getting tackled to the floor by my dad, then everything kinda gets fuzzy. I guess having not played football in a while made me really exhausted or something. I don't know why we were running drills drills in the house?"
"You weren't playing football at home Vinny. Your dad attacked you after you told him that you were moving out," Martin sighed. "God...I can't even...there's no way that was all from football. Some were new, some were old, I just...Vinny....do you want to talk about it?"
"....Martin...there's nothing to tell...just forget anything ever happened ,okay? Really just...forget it."
"Bullshit! Because if nothing happened then there wouldn't be 50 some-odd lashes on your back and welts the shape of belt buckles on your skin! Why won't you tell me what's going on Vinny?! I'm your brother! I should know whats going on! For once in your life just let me in! You always close off your mind like a damned fortress! Please! For once just talk to me!"
Ashamed, I looked down , noticing that I was indeed, bruised and bandaged up. I was sure I looked ridiculous denying that anything was going on when my wounds were on clear display for him.
"Isn't it obvious? What happened?" I asked.
"You weren't kidding when you said your dad was getting a lot worse, you're lucky that you got away with just a bad concussion," Martin said. "Should I go get your stuff later?"
"Definitely, I'm ready to cut them off for good. I don't care anymore," I lay back down and tested my head. "Thinking about them makes my head hurt really bad. Whatever it was, I think this is my karma."
"What?" Martin snapped.
"I put Danny in the hospital way more than you did, and it's all coming back to me now," I said. I couldn't help but wonder how Danny could stay in such an uncomfortable bed, especially for two weeks. Was his ass as sore as mine is right now? "It's my karma for being bad to him."
"What does your dad beating you up have to do with him?"
"God works in mysterious ways, right?" I asked.
"Don't do that, it was your dad being the same as usual. You always downplay what he does by saying it's karma for something and it's no good. Besides this happened because you told them that you were moving. Let's not connect Danny to something so ugly as your dad was hurting you before all this happened."
Dammit, I couldn't have anything could I? It felt like this was my karma for everything I did for sure. How could it not be? Maybe the real question was why did it take so long for that fact to hit me. My dad has been beating me up before I started bullying Dan, but I still did things much worse to him, that I haven't paid for yet.
Since this wasn't karma? How do I pay for all my mistakes towards Danny?
"Give me my phone," I demanded. Martin handed my phone over to me and watched as I pressed Dr. Mansini's contact information.
After three rings, I heard a soft ""Hello?""
"Dr. Mancini, I'm in the hospital, that's why I haven't been showing up to the sessions," I said. "Please don't take me off your list of patients."
""Ah, yes, your mother informed me about this. Whenever you're feeling better, feel free to stop by the clinic when you're better. Is there anything you'd like to talk about now?"" He asked me.
"Yes," I put the phone on speaker and set it next to me so I could relax and talk.
""I'm ready when you are,"" he said.
"I'm moving out of my parents house and going to be at a friends apartment. I told my dad two days ago and he freaked out." I said.
"Don't forget, that he's the one who put you in the hospital because you told him," Martin said loud enough for Dr. Mansini to hear.
""Who is that?""
"Martin. Him and I made up two days ago, before I told my parents about me moving. He's the one I'm moving in with."
""Ok. Why do you feel that your dad reacted the way he did to you moving out?""
"That's actually what's so confusing to me. Of all people, I thought he'd be jumping for joy to finally be rid of me since the change in our family dynamic isn't working. I thought with me gone, no one would be against him anymore and Giacomo and my mother wouldn't have to live with all this tension all the time. But this is the first time he put me in the hospital over something." I said. "I'm not even sure what he meant by beating me this time."
""Well, the only thing I can guess is that he doesn't want you to move out, he just doesn't know to express it.""
"What?!" Martin snapped. "How does it mean that?! Why would he put Vinny in the hospital if he didn't want him to leave? Are you aware how severe his concussion is?"
""Yes, I'm aware, his mother brought me a copy of the medical report.""
"Then did she tell you that the abuse has been going on since he was a child?"
""That's was left out, I can't say I don't understand why she didn't tell me. But I'm going to challenge you to think about why your parents treat you the way they do and while you do this, I want you to keep in mind that their behavior only comes from them, not from you. If you can't understand them, then I agree with you letting go of your parents life and getting one of your own.""
"What's there to understand? Why do I have to understand them?" I asked.
""To understand is to have clarity and peace of mind about your situation and the people being left behind. You've been trying to fix everything that isn't in your control lately, I think it'll be a positive change once you stop trying to change your parents.""
"But I want-"
""We went over this before. We can always want things, it doesn't mean we'll get them, Vincenzo. My advice to you is to continue on with your plans to move and live your own life now."" Dr. Mansini said. ""PTSD symptoms displayed by abused children and young people include learning difficulties, poor behaviour at school, depression and anxiety, aggression, risk-taking and criminal behaviours, emotional numbness, and a range of physical issues including poor sleep and headaches, all of which you've exhibited. As a father, i'd say it's time for you to leave them far behind.""
There's that word again. PTSD! It just sucks that this was all my parents could give me. It made me just feel more ashamed of myself for not being strong enough to combat it. It made me feel weak for not being able to handle it all on my own. And it made me feel angry and confused, because I didn't want to leave my parents. A fucked up part of me still wanted them to love me and comfort me. Shit, I even wish they were here to see me instead of Martin.
But this was reality, and in reality we can't always get what we want.
"Ok, I'll come back once I'm discharged," I told him not able to hide the crack in my voice or the tears that started to spill out.
""I know it's hard, because you want your parents love. But this move sounds like it'll be better for you in the long run, Vincenzo.""
"Thank you, Dr. Mancini," I mumbled before hanging up,
"I don't like that guy! Why do we have to understand our parents?" Martin huffed.
"Probably....so we don't end up pushing them down the stairs," I said without thinking. Regret filled me up as soon as the thought came out. "Shit, never mind, I'm sorry-"
"Dude, it's fine," he chuckled after a few seconds I joined him in genuine laughter. I'm not sure how long it's been since I'd been able to laugh like this, but it felt great to feel somewhat normal again.
And what's feeling normal, if I didn't cause a little trouble.