Chapter Text
JOVIE
His beady eyes bulge along with the pulse I feel in my mouth.
”Mm! Mm Mm! Eumph..”
I try to pull myself away from him.
He just pushes it further down my throat. Creamy liquid is trickling nastily down my raw throat now. I convulse violently but nothing comes up-I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten.
”Don’t cry, baby. You’re ahead. Daddy will teach you.”
My insides are twisting and I can’t see anything. I am living in a haze.
A blazing pain rips through the entirety of the body I stopped feeling hours ago. The red liquid leak that I see out the corner of my seemingly blind eyes forces me to become aware for the first time since I can remember of my body. I have a body!
Another blow…
“STOP!” I slap my hand over my mouth. Heart racing, I hold my nose to quiet my frantic pants and pray to the god I don’t believe in that Mom didn’t hear. What feels like a million heartbeats later I feel safe enough to tiptoe out of bed. I sneak downstairs to use the bathroom so that I don’t wake Mom, and collapse against the hard tile floor as soon as I have the door locked.
Hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs, I lightly punch my leg with my free fist to calm its shaking. I have my routine. My rituals.
This isnt the first time I’ve had this dream. This nightmare.
I’ve had it for the past three or so years, infrequently. In the past two months, though, it recurs multiple times a week. I’ve stopped trying to count. I’ve stopped even caring.
It isn’t the worst of my problems and certainly not something I’ll be wasting my time with. I throw up the minimal contents of dinner before cleaning up and heading back to my room. Door locked, I quietly open my window and climb onto the roof. I ripped the screen out months ago, the first time I felt that way. Now I like to just go there and sit with the stars. The moon always listens. The moon always cares.
DYLAN
7:56 AM
Shit, shit shit shit shit.
I’m screwed.
I tear out of bed and scramble to change into my dirty jeans. They’ll have to do. I pop a mint and as I’m about to sprint Mom walks in the door.
Great.
Fucking. Amazing.
Before I have the time to say anything, explain myself, or try to mitigate any anxiety, she’s burst out scream-crying and hides her face.
”I trust you! This family Dylan…what have I said..”
She clutches her head and hiccups.
I ignore the gripping pain in my chest because right now I need to focus on getting to work. An hour late is good enough, thanks.
”Love you, Mama. Sorry.”
I walk out on her as she continues to shake her head violently and my little sister Holly comes up behind her to ask what’s wrong.
I can’t worry about it right now. I have no bike after the confrontation yesterday and so I’m relying on my own two fucking scrawny stick legs to get me a ten minute bike ride away. An hour and twenty minutes late is what it’s looking like.
Goody.
Another beautiful day on Earth.