Chapter Text
The door clicked shut behind me. Slowly, I moved my hand to lock it. I leaned up against the old, oak door and slid to the floor.
I was shaking so much that the door was rattling. The whole world was violently shivering along with me. I reached up and ran a trembling hand though my wet hair.
Why? I thought as I heard plates being broken downstairs. I flinched and brought my head down as if the plates were being thrown at me. Hot tears fell onto my pants.
I had gotten home from school not even fifteen minutes ago; not even given the chance to change before this. Blood dripped from my nose onto my school pants.
“Great,” I sighed. “Looks like I’ll have to take these ones to grandma too.”
I sighed heavily as more things were being broken downstairs and shouts came up through the wood. I wished I was at my grandma’s right now. I could be in my pj’s , eating something good, talking about my day with my mawmaw right now, but instead I was stuck at home with my monster of a father.
Stomps came from behind me as my father came up the steps. I clutched to myself, hoped he was going to his room. My breathing got fast and I started hyperventilating as his footsteps got closer and closer. The door jutted forward and sent me flying to the end of my bed.
He hit the door again. “Jean! Let me in right now! Boy, don’t make me break this door down,” he screamed.
I was shaking again. Maybe I should let him in. Maybe he’d be lenient with me. I chuckled nervously as he slammed against the door again. Maybe he just wants to talk?
I walked to the door and held the handle feeling the vibrations of his beatings on the wood with his fist. I slowly unlocked it and the moment I did I knew I shouldn’t have.
The door flew open and my father stood there, a beer in hand, and looking almost surprised that I actually opened the door. He must have seen how scared I was because his face softened a bit as I tittered awkwardly. I rubbed my arm slowly, feeling the fear inside me well up again.
This was a bad idea. Bad idea bad idea BAD IDEA.
He drank the last of his beer in one gulp and swayed a bit, still standing in the threshold of my bedroom. He walked over to me and hovered for a second, I stopped breathing.
“Wh-why was the house a *hic* mess when I got home Jhan? Hu?” He swayed a bit as he hovered and I couldn’t find it in myself to look him in the eyes.
He bent down so our noses were touching, I still looked away. “Did your mommy never teach you how to clean up after youshelf?”
I turned my head.
He sighed heavily, annoyed. “Yan, you know.” He grabbed my face and twisted it back to him, gripping hard like I was actually going to have enough balls to rip my face away like I wanted. “It is very rude to not look at someone when they speak to you.”
He smirked and his eyes narrowed as he pushed me away hard. I bumped into my nightstand, knocking the framed picture of my mom off in the process. It hit the floor and shattered. I stared at it for a long second before his hand had made a swift connection to the back of my head.
I was breathing hard again, shaking, and looking at my mom’s smiling face as broken bits of glass lay across her photographed body. That was my only picture of her. I was pulled back and thrown against the wall so hard the breath escaped my lungs and didn’t want to return. I wheezed and dry heaved into the floor as my father came to stand over me. He grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet.
“Boy!” He shouted. “You’re in 10th fucking grade now and you don’t even know how to talk to adults properly? I am your father. Show me some fucking respect.”
I looked at him hard as he pushed my head into the wall. I gripped to the windowsill to keep from falling. I don’t know what came over me in that moment but seeing my father standing there and my mother’s picture shattered to pieces on the floor was too much and sent my blood boiling.
“You may be my father.” I breathed heavy. WHAT WAS I DOING? I stood up straight and locked eyes with the vibrant blue of my father’s. “But I will never respect you.” I hissed.
WHAT WAS I DOING? YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT, JEAN, A FUCKING RETARD.
He looked at me hard, his lip curled up, his face twisted as if he just smelled something disgusting. “What did you say?” He demanded, his voice flat.
I froze, my eyes widened, and my heart seemed to stop. If he didn’t kill me right there, than he was sure to come close. My whole body seemed to be vibrating uncontrollably as he came at me and as his fist came at my face my vision went white and I was gone.
He may have been able to hurt my body but I found that every time he beat me like this it was easier to dream. It eased the pain and helped to block out the images so I didn’t dwell on the sight of his bloody fists later and end up having a panic attack at school or something.
I was sitting in a field in this dream. My mom’s cold arms were tight around my shoulders. She was laughing, it sounded so real that it made my heart ache. I sighed lovingly and looked up at her.
I wouldn’t have ever admitted it but I was a carbon copy of my mom. We both had long sharp noses, long faces, ash-brown hair, with small, angular shaped eyes. The only thing I hadn’t gotten from her was my father’s terrifying smile that she would have claimed to this day was why she fell for him.
I touched her face lightly and sighed again. She stopped laughing and sat next to me, taking my hands into hers.
“What’s wrong baby?” her voice was soft and so full of love.
“It’s dad again.” I said leaning into her, and buried my face into her shoulder.
She sighed loudly and rubbed small circles into my back. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” She paused for a moment and relaxed into my hold a bit. I was crying.
“You know, Jean, if I would have known I was so sick I would have never allowed you to stay with him. I knew how bad he was when he drank and whenever he was sad or upset he would drink. He’s just sad, baby. He’s sad because of me.”
I looked up at her, tears rolling from my eyes. “But why does he have to take it out on me?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes were sad and she bent down to kiss my forehead. “I don’t know, Jean. I don’t know.”
I submerged my head in the warm bath water. It stung the broken skin on my face but I didn’t want anything to infect my cuts. I sighed under the water and bubbles came up to break at the surface. If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d stay under and let the breath run out of me.
I reluctantly pulled myself up from the water and got out of the bath. My rule was once I started thinking that way I had to get out: plain and simple. I dried myself off and pulled my pj bottoms back on. As I went to walk out, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Needless to say, I reeled back at the sight. My lip was busted and had swelled up, my eye was dark and puffy, and little spots of broken skin were dispersed across my face, neck, and shoulders.
I shook my head. How could anyone do this to their kid?
I went out of the bathroom and down the hall. Music was playing downstairs; it sounded like ACDC but I couldn’t really tell. I met my father’s eyes as I passed the stairs. He looked up at me as I looked away.
“Jean,” He said as I started to walk away. He sounded dry and a bit shaken. Maybe seeing what he did to me sober was what made his voice on edge. “A-are you coming down for dinner? I made pasta.” He tried to sound happy but his voice was a bit shaken.
I didn’t look at him, just rubbed my chest lightly. It was still damp. “Uhh.. I don’t think so. I’m pretty tired and kind of feel sick. Could you leave me some for tomorrow?” I tried to sound like my normal self but my voice broke as my sentence ended.
He shook his head before walking back into the kitchen.
I wrapped myself in a cocoon of blankets while in the safety of my room. I buried my face in my pillow and wanted to cry again. My whole body hurt and I really didn’t want to be alone right now. Thinking quickly, I pulled my phone out to see if anyone texted me while I was… preoccupied.
There was a message flashing on the screen and I opened it slowly. It was a number I didn’t have so I was kind of confused. Had I gained some popularity in the past 7 hours? Ha.
I read over the message slowly taking it all in. It had been sent at like 5, so a while ago now. Whoever it was, was going to be pissed it took me so long to reply.
658-772-2929
Hey, Jean, it’s Marco. I don’t know if you remember me but I gave you my number after Eren introduced us at lunch. I was hoping you knew what lesson we had to do for Algebra because I forgot my notebook. Wouldn’t want my second day of school to start off with a late assignment! Lol :p
I stared at the text for a long time before I did anything. Marco? Was that that kid’s name? Huh, I was too busy staring at the freckles on his face to listen and really all I heard was that Armin knew him from somewhere.
I added his number in my contacts because why the hell not? Maybe he and Eren would want to hang out some time. Never know I guess. I quickly texted out a reply.
Me
I think we had to do either 24 or 27. I can’t really remember. Sorry, dude. Did you ask Armin? I would have asked him first...
I laid the phone on my night stand. I didn’t really expect a reply so I just pushed the text from my mind and curled back into my blanket cocoon.
The music downstairs got louder and I heard something fall over. Great. Is he really getting drunk again? It’s 11:30.
I started shaking, what if he came after me again? Remembering what I said earlier. I’m surprised he let me live after that in the first place. My phone buzzed loudly and I jumped. I slid it open and read the text.
Marco
Thanks, Jean! I ended up getting the lesson from Armin. Are you always this slow to reply? Lol
I laughed to myself as something broke downstairs, tears starting to well in my eyes from fear. It was hard and unsteady but it was a laugh.
Me
Not usually. I was in a fight with my old man.
Why did I tell him that? I didn’t even know this kid.
Marco
Really? ;( Wanna talk about it?
“Jean!” My father shouted. I shot up from my bed and gripped tight to my phone. Not again, please. Dear God, please, not again. I grabbed my comforter off my bed quickly and hid in my closet quietly shutting the door so he wouldn’t hear. I breathed quietly into the puffiness of the blanket, inhaling the smell of vanilla. One of my favorite smells.
My phone buzzed again, I gripped it to my chest tightly squeezing my eyes shut. Hopefully he didn’t hear it.
Marco
Jean? Are you okay?
My hands shook as I heard my father coming up the stairs again.
Me
This may sound weird but can I call you?
Marco
Uhh sure jean? What’s wrong?
I pressed the call button as the house went quiet again. I don’t know what happened to my father but maybe, hopefully, he went to sleep. The phone crackled as I heard it ring a few times. I was breathing heavy and I tried to calm myself but Marco picked up before I got the chance.
“Jean? You there?” His voice was small it seemed so far away but it felt like he was right there.
“Y-yeah im here. Im sorry.” I paused. “I just..just need someone here with me right now.”
I hiccupped as my voice broke, I was crying again.
“Are you crying Jean? What’s the matter?” Marco sounded worried; it was nice hearing someone be concerned for me. I closed my eyes and imagined him here in the closet with me. I imagined me wrapping my arms around him shaking; having someone protect me from that monster of a man was my only wish. I didn’t care if it was my mom or this random kid, as long as it was someone.
“Jean..?”
I whipped my eyes. “Sorry. I can’t really talk that much right now but…” I stopped.
His breath was calm on the other end and it sounded like he was writing. I liked the sound of his breath, it seemed to calm me.
“Could you just talk to me? Maybe tell me about your day..something. I need to feel like someone’s here.” I whispered barley above a breath.
His breath hitched and he put down whatever he was doing. Stuff moved around for a minute before he responded. “Uhh..okay. I can try.”
Marco went on for about an hour about his first day at school. He said he met a lot of nice people and he had really taken a liking to this junior named Bert and his boyfriend Reiner. He laughed saying he had never met a gay person before and judging from those two they seemed alright to him. By the time my father drunkenly stumbled into my room I was half asleep listening to Marco laugh to himself quietly so I dint even notice him.
The closet door was ripped open and I shot up quickly dropping my phone on the floor. He was angry and I didn’t really know why. I started shaking again.
I tried to say something but my throat wasn’t going to allow that. I don’t really remember anything after that all I remember was the sound of Marco’s concerned yelling as my head smacked into my phone on the ground.
After the beating and the fresh blood staining my blanket and my clean clothes that littered the ground of my closet my father swayed away into his room to leave me for the night. My breath was ragged as I curled up into a ball and sobbed into my carpet.
Why did this keep happening? It seems like since I started school again it has been every day. I sobbed for a little bit before Marco’s soft voice came through my phone again. I had forgotten about him.
I slowly dragged the phone over to me and laid my head on it.
I coughed a bit of blood out before I started speaking. “M-Marco? You still there?”
He was quiet and I could hear him crying on the other line. “Y-Yeah I am.”
“Im sorry you had to hear that. I would have hung up but he got to me too quickly.” I was crying again as I whispered into the phone. “I didn’t mean to-“
“jean you don’t have to apologize to me. Just..just. Are you okay?” He said quickly, hushed. He sounded so serious.
I sighed and tried to stand up, I stretched out and walked back to my bed. “Yeah I think so..”
We were silent for a while just listening to each other’s breath on the opposite end of each other and it was nice. All of the sudden it all it me hard. I was so alone that I had to call some random fucking kid from school so I don’t go under. I thought about the bath.
“Marco?”
He sighed deeply, it sounded like my mom’s sighs; one of those you have after a good laugh. “Yeah jean?”
I paused and pulled my knees up to my chest. My heart was racing and I didn’t know where my mind was. My voice broke.
“Do you think anyone would miss me if i..” I trailed off, my voice cracking not allowing me to finish.
“If you what?” He sounded concerned now.
We were quiet again. I had never actually said it out loud before and I guess the reality of it was a bit much for me right now. I started again anyhow.
“If I..I killed..myself?” I was crying again and Marco could clearly hear it.
We were quiet again for a while until he whispered into the phone. “I would.”
My breath hitched and I sat upright quickly. “Marco.” I wasn’t thinking straight anymore I just knew I needed someone right now and he was the only one that had ever admitted that they somewhat liked me.
“Yeah?”
“Where do you live?” I was talking quickly which probably scared him again.
“Uhh, 104 Rose Road. Why? Is something wrong?”
I didn’t get a chance to respond right away because I had already pulled my hoodie over my head and hopped out the window onto the roof. The phone was clenched between my teeth as I parkoured (not really but you get the jist) down to the ground. Marco only lived about a block away and I wanted to see him.
It was cold outside even though summer wasn’t really over yet. The stars where out and shining down brightly, it made me feel a little better but there was only one thing my mind was thinking of and that was Marco. The back of my eyes were stained with the sight of his freckles and his warm smile. Even though I had only seen him for about 15 minutes I had somehow unconsciously mapped out his freckles like the stars in the sky. I must have been in some weird state of high that night because before I knew it I was at Marco’s house. It was only one floor and I could clearly see him in the window of his room. He was sitting up on his bed looking tired as he worriedly held the phone up to his ear.
I could hear him talking on the other end. I slowly pulled the phone up to my face and smiled.
“Hey look outside.” I whispered.
His head shot to the window and he looked terrified. I gave him a little half wave before I walked to the window. He opened it slowly and looked at me shocked.
“What are you doing here?!” He whispered to me.
I climbed in through his window and he started quietly freaking out.
“Jean! What in fuck do you think you’re doing!”
“Calm your tits Marco. It’s not like im a girl or something no one’s gonna flip their shit if they find me in here. And besides it’s a weekend.” I said plopping on his bed. It was really squishy.
He sighed and sat down. “I guess you’re right.”
It was dark in his room and I really couldn’t see anything besides the outline of his face from the moonlight outside. He turned and looked at me bringing his hand to my face.
“Wow you’re pretty messed up.” He paused as I pulled away from him bringing my knees to my chest. There was a small pang like I got stabbed and my breathing broke.
“Your dad did this?”
“No the fucking tooth fairy did. See.” I opened my mouth and showed him where one of my molars got knocked out earlier. “Fucker stole my pearly whites.”
He looked at me hard and I took a long drag of breath. It wasn’t really the time to be sarcastic. I clutched my knees harder and felt tears slide down my cheeks. Hopefully he couldn’t see.
“Jean.” He sounded disappointed. Just the tone of his voice pissed me off and I stood from his bed and back to the window.
“Where are you going?” He said confused, there was an edge to his voice.
“You obviously don’t want me here, so I’ll just go sleep in the park or something. It was wrong of me to come here you were right. See you at school Monday.”
I went to open the window but Marco grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I hissed in pain but soon it was all washed away.
I was full of Marco, is arms wrapped tightly around me. I was pretty sure I was older than him but he was a good half head taller. I rested my head into this shoulder and he tightened his grip around me.
“M-Marco?” I whispered. I didn’t really know how to feel about this.
And instantly I did what all 16 year old guys do. Am I gay? God wouldn’t dad love to hear that one. Nah im not this is just a bro hug man. He is my friend just like if Eren where to me a hug. We’re bros nothing to it. But why does he smell so good, damn he does smell good. Maybe being gay would be okay? I mean I never really have thought about it.
Marco was crying. I hadn’t even noticed because I was thinking way too much to the hug. I pulled away slowly and watched him fall back onto the bed.
“I’m sorry jean. I didn’t mean it that way.”
I sat on the bed next to him. Again with the high feeling I had going on, maybe there was something in the air. I grabbed his hand and his head shot towards me. We locked eyes in the dark.
“It’s okay. Im sorry too, I shouldn’t have done that.” Tears started to overflow from my eyes again and I sniffled a bit before going on. “It’s just with my dad and all its hard to tell when im wanted and when im not.”
I chucked a bit sounding sad as I looked away from Marco to the floor. My hand went to my face slowly and I touched my lip. It was puffy and the blood had dried around the edges. I started to shake again as I quietly sobbed on Marco’s bed, holding Marco’s hand. He sat there and let me let it out.
I told him a little about how it was at home. About mom and how dad got into drinking after she died, about him beating the ever living crap out of me for almost every day this past month.
“Thank god my sister taught me how to apply makeup or else someone would have found out a long time ago.” I laughed a real laugh. It was strange and broken but it was a laugh.
“Jean. About what you said earlier.” Marco’s voice was quiet.
We had moved from the edge to the middle. We were sitting facing one another both with blankets wrapped around our shoulders, our hands still gripped together. I felt like Marco was just as scared as I was, even if he didn’t really understand. He was scared for me in the ways I couldn’t be.
“What about it?” I whispered sighing a bit. I was pretty tired now.
“Did you mean it?” His voice broke.
It was quiet for a bit again before I took a loud gulp of air.
“I..I honestly don’t know Marco. Maybe.” I looked at him, he was crying again. Man this kid was more emotionally distraught than I was which was saying something at the moment.
I pulled him close to me, wrapping my arms around his neck and rubbing small circles into his back. It always worked to calm me down when mom was still around, it might work for him to.
“But as long as I have someone like you, I don’t think that’s gonna happen Okay. Let’s just forget about it.” I whispered in his ear reassuringly. Followed quickly by a yawn.
In a fluid motion Marco took me down to his bed and we were both lying on the cloud of blankets we formed. It was warm in the cloud and of fucking course Marco smelled just like vanilla. I smiled as he laid his arm over top of me, his face buried into the pillow. He turned and smiled at me, it was a sleepy one and it was so fucking cute.
I felt my cheeks go red and I looked away. Marco rolled over and all of the sudden we were full of spooning. Him taking it upon himself to be the big spoon.
I was blushing so hard it felt like I was dripping with embarrassment. I covered my face with my hand which made Marco laugh. He nuzzled his nose into my neck and I could feel the heat from his cheeks too. Quiet snores came from behind me not even a minute later and at that moment I could have left, left Marco sound asleep and go back home but this, right now, felt right.
I scooted in a bit and Marco tightened his grip around me. Soon I drifted off to sleep too.
It was the beginning of 10th grade, August 25 at 2:54 am when I slept in the same bed as Marco Bodt. And in that same moment that I drifted to sleep, Marco Botd, the geeky transfer student who cared a bit too much about homework and not enough about the world around him, became my best friend.