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i ran into the bathroom, hearing ivan shout. i locked the door, and sat in the other corner, leaning against the bath. another stupid argument, did we even talk anymore? ivan always found a way to turn anything into a fight, and he barely ended up apologising. he acted like the game was theirs to share, when all he did was write a stupid script. i wrote all the code, and built it all.. its not fair. he’s acting like he owns me too, like im some sort of pet. he gets jealous whenever i mention gifts that old friends got me. i swear i saw him looking at the photo of me and my old friends like he wanted to destroy it to pieces. tears started to run down my face, and i thought about everything. ivan, always looking out for me. ivan, wanting to help about my living situation. ivan. ivan. ivan.
..he never cared about me. all this abuse, this hitting, this making me sleep on the floor. i just tried to go out and he pushed me back like i had done something wrong. everytime i didnt want to work, took a break, he shouted and threw things until i complied, and he acts like nothing happened. “andrew..” i hear ivan's sickly sweet voice. “open the door.” he says it in a tone that seems nice, but i know he wont like if i dont open it. “ANDREW.” ivan shouted, and banged the door which shuck with his sheer force. i jumped and curled up more, looking at the door as he banged it more. i heard a crack, which meant the lock was breaking. fuck. i thought he was gone, hearing footsteps, but the door slammed open, so hard that the handle left a dent in the wall. he walked over and crouched in front of me, staring for a moment before…
choking me.
his hands on my neck, the hate in his eyes, like he wanted me dead. “you NEED me andrew. you need my help on the game, you are NOTHING without ME.” his grip tightened and my vision blurred around the edges. “i-ivan stop.. w-we can talk about-” my words turned to mush, and i choked from the lack of air. “oh shut it, you self-centered BASTARD. you think the game is YOURS, you never SHARE, you think you are BETTER than me.” every time he shouted, he choked me harder, digging his fingernails into my neck. i couldnt breath. was he going to really kill me? what changed?.. he took me in, fed me, helped me. now he just.. well. all the memories flooded my head, bad ones mainly. my conscious faded in and out until, at some point, he stopped. it felt like days, weeks.. months. “oh.. im sorry andy.” he said, cupping my face with his cold hands. “wh..” i tried to speak, but my voice trailed off, breathing heavy. he was.. apologising? that was a very rare thing, but i dont understand. “you know i love you?” he said, tone softer than before. he pulled me into a hug, a tight one, one that made me choke slightly. i couldnt bring myself to hug him back. not like i could, my body was weak and my lungs were fighting to keep me alive. he said something else but i couldnt hear, then he got up and left.
my vision blurred again, but i was just dissociating this time. i thought... maybe ivan was right. i wouldnt be anything, i would be on the streets, without him. the game is mine though, but i feel.. kinda worthless. i did depend on him, but he just had full control over me now. my hoodie sleeve rode up, and i saw my scars again. great. im sitting here, nearly having been killed by my own friend, and i had to be reminded of my biggest mistake. i started to cry, tears stinging my eyes, and i tried to to wipe them away. why why why why why.. i felt the urge to do it again, to release all my anger and hurt onto myself but.. i couldnt. i was too tired, i just cant. i lifted my hand to my neck and winced. there was gonna be bruises for sure, and when i pulled my hand away, there was blood on my fingertips. ivan has dug in so hard that he broke my skin. i stumbled up, using the bath for support, and looked into the mirror above the sink. my neck was riddled with bruises and smudged blood from where i touched the wounds. i used a bit of the toilet paper to clean up the blood, and made my way back to the corner of the living room. i slipped under the too short blanket, and curled into myself to make use of the one thing that ivan let me keep.