Break Me

Chapter three

Daniel shook me awake around six.
“Hey, buddy, just making sure you didn’t die on me or nothing,” he pulled the thermometer out from under my arm. I rubbed my eyes and looked around.
 “You spoil him,” Daniel said, pointing Derek, who snuggled close and wrapped his arms around my neck at he sound of someone else’s voice.
“Look whose talking,” I retorted, pointing at the beautiful ring and purse on the coffee table.
 “Tell me, how much did that ring cost?”
“Keep it down, she’s right in the other room. After all I do for you,” he said, mockingly offended. I rolled my eyes.
“Anyway, how’s your arms?” he asked, eyeing the bandages.
 “Infected, but other then that.” He was already unwrapping the binding as I spoke.
“Did you wrap this yourself?” I shook my head, uncoiling the bandage from around my other engraved arm.
“Ah, you finally found yourself a girl,” he winked at me. “That will be the day,” I replied, wincing as he wiped away the sticky residue of antibiotic.
“Well, at least its someone to look after you when I can’t.”
“That is the last thing on her mind, Daniel. She was just being nice because I am her pity victim she is obsessed with for a few weeks before she moves on to more interesting hobbies.”
 “You have a sick mind.”
 “Tell me about it.”
 “Well, you and your mind go wash out those cuts,” I rolled off the bed and dragged Derek away from the ladies purse.
“No!” I said firmly, on my way into the kitchen. I turned on the water and soaped up my hands. An off tune version of Kelly Clarkson wound its way through the house. I winced as she hit the high notes. Daniel leaned on the sink next to me.
“She has a beautiful voice,” he sighed as she emitted a high pitched note that sounded more like a dying cry from a person who was shot. Her voice reminded me of my mom’s...only my mom’s voice was pretty, before drugs overtook her and the bottle controlled her. Even on trips to the park, she had that bottle enclosed in her fist. That’s where it started, it was just alcohol, it wasn’t so bad. I could remember one day, I don’t know why, but I remember one evening, in the dimming light of the sunset, we played on the community park. We were all kids, my two sisters and I. Derek wasn’t even heard of yet. I wished he was, I wanted him to have a few good memories before we moved to Canada or Norway. Too far away for mom to pay for a long distance phone call, if it even crossed her mind. I could still feel her one free hand on my back. Gently pushing me, the same hands that pushed me down the concrete steps of our apartment later that night. Margaret and Therese fought over the color of the swings, just like they fought over everything. When they finally took their squabbling to the slides, I was alone with my mom. “Look mommy, I’m going high!” I screeched, glancing to see if she was paying attention. She was smiling for once, taking another sip of the bottle. It was her lifeline and part of my destruction. I loved swings. I had always pretended I was a space person way high up and I could see the world. I would pretend to use a metal detector to find all the buried treasure in the universe, then my mommy would be happy. Of course, to an eight year old, reality is a harsh lesson and one I learned well. We walked back from the park and let ourselves into the apartment. Mommy’s “friend” came over and both of them got high. I can still see him smoking on his pipe with hollow eyes as he stared at the tv. His eyes didn't even blink when I screamed as my mother slashed my arms with the knife. My sisters had broken a lamp while playing and feared my mother, so they blamed it on me. Drugs and alcohol mixed made her fierce and I was the subject of her anger. I kept hoping her boyfriend would act like my real dad and jump up and save me, but he didn’t. The only way you could tell he was even alive was when he took a long, inhaled breath on the pipe. He exhaled the smoke like a dragon in a witch's lair. Bleeding and crying she pulled me to the front door, almost slipping in my blood. I felt the same push I did when I was on the swing, only I was flying through air and the only thing to catch me was the concrete steps. I cracked my head off the side of the steps and lay disoriented in the dirt for a few seconds. Our neighbors just happened to be taking out the garbage. It was an elderly man who yelled for his wife when he caught sight of me. They both brought me into their house and wrapped my arms in towels. The police were called and I watched them take my mother away in hand cuffs, her eyes glaring. I had to appear in court and I told them what happened as best as an eight year old can. My mom convinced them it was self inflicted and I had run down the steps to run away from her when she tried to help. My sisters both confirmed her story and after five months in foster care, I was released to go home. They put me on medication and in some special classes at school. Things were okay for a little while, but after a year, everyone had forgotten the case. Every time the social workers came, my mom put on a brilliant loving mother song and dance. I would watch them glance around the obviously filthy apartment and I wanted to say something, but fear glued my lips together. They tried everything to get it out of me that something was wrong, they knew it was, but there was no way they could prove it. Every time they left, mom would put me through a guilt trip. I felt bad for letting mommy go to jail. She told me they hurt her and it was all my fault. I didn’t want her to go to jail again, so I accepted that my existence was my fault and anything and everything I did was wrong. She brought my sisters presents and showered them with love to show she loved them better then me. Soon it became addicting for them and I was now lower class. After a long day of avoiding getting my face kicked in and listening to their hurtful insults, I convinced myself I should tell and maybe I would be taken away. So many times I had the phone in my hand and the number to social services in my head, but I had Derek. I knew I couldn’t leave him alone. He needed me, but my being there still didn’t save him. He still was shaken, brain damaged, and abused. I protected him from my mother's threats and shielded him when her boyfriends got angry, but I was still blamed. Even after I took him to the hospital unconscious, I was still a suspect and a media circus clown for the next year. I dreamed of taking him away. We would live in a nice house way out in the middle of nowhere and I would give him a good life until he could take care of himself. I would give him a life without being hit or called names. I would never tell him about mom. I would just pretend it never happened. He would never be old enough to know his mommy hated him.
 The shower flipped off and I shook the memories out of my mind. I had lost time in my thoughts and Derek was no longer on the bed. My eyes gazed around the room searching for those curious little hands into something they shouldn’t be. Sure enough, there they were, in the ladies purse. I heard the bathroom door open and I dashed for Derek.

“Hey, that isn’t yours!” she yelled, Derek jumped, frightened. I wasn’t moving fast enough.

“I’m going to kill you,” she said, raising her fist at him. His hands shook and he dropped the bright red lipstick he was clutching. I stepped in front of him, and Daniel jumped in, “Sweetie, he is just a baby.” She got up in my face and pointed her finger at me. I closed my eyes as her grip on the towel that was clothing her started to slip. 

“You had better learn to keep that little brat under control before someone really does him in.” I bowed my head, letting her know she had won.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I was watching him really, come here.” I grabbed Derek as Daniel pulled her into a passionately disgusting kiss. I ducked into the bathroom grabbing my clothes on the way.
“I’m sorry I lost it, its just if my kids acted like that they would be begging for mercy. All they ever do is break stuff and eat all your food. If I had a choice I never would have had kids.” Did anyone wonder where her unwanted children were? Probably back at her apartment with her other “friend.” I shut the door to the bathroom and locked it. Derek let go of me and huddled in a corner of the bathroom with his arms wrapped around his knees. He rocked back and forth sucking his thumb.
 “Oh its okay, little buddy,” I tried to comfort him and put my pants on at the same time. I reached down to pat his head as I was pulling on my pants and didn't see Daniel's girlfriend's high heeled shoes. As I Tripped over the shoes, I fell into the bathtub still filled with water. "Ah," I breathed through my teeth as my arm bent and my ribs hit the bottom of the tub. "I hate my life," I muttered as I struggled to get out of the bathtub. My clothes were sopped and I was in pain. I looked at the clock above the sink. I only had an hour.  I dragged Derek out from behind the door and left Daniel and his “friend” kissing in the corner. Slightly woozy, I stumbled out of the dingy apartment and took and deep breath of clean air.

“Never get a girlfriend, Derek.” I said, hoisting him onto my shoulders. “Da!” he cooed, pulling at my hair.

“Come on, I can’t go to school like this.” I walked a couple blocks until I felt his grip loosen and his muscles slacken, leaving me to do all the work. His weight on my shoulders pulled on what little strength I had left.

“You have got to get down, your killing me,” I said as I let his sleeping form slide into my arms. I pulled him close to me, ignoring the pain that incessantly strayed into my thoughts.

“It’s going to hurt a lot worse when Clay gets to me. If I’m lucky I’ll escape with broken ribs, that was probably his intention in the first place.” I talked aloud to no one in particular. It was  good thing there was no one, I looked like quite the site, completely sopped with a baby in his pajamas, sleeping despite the cold winds blowing across the resting beast of a city. My short sleeves blew in the sharp wind, chilling me to the bones that could no longer take the extra person I was carrying. I hauled him into McDonalds, rolling my eyes at the smiles from the guys.

“Hey, man, you fall asleep in the shower or something? Where’s Daniel?”

“He has a friend over, he won’t be in for a couple hours.” They laughed, they knew Daniel just as well as I did.

“Yeah his friends real cozy in that bed he got up there, hehe, she probably was cold without the electric though. I never seen a guy spend so much on a bed.”

“Two pancakes, please,” I said kindly to the young girl working the cash register. I flashed my ID and she handed it over.

“Yo, that old man better get here or I’m going to go over there myself and tell her where his other snuggle bunny lives!” I left them laughing as the door closed behind me.

“Yo man, see you later!” they called. I waved back, hunching down as a chill hit me full blast. I trudged the rest of the way home, praying my mom’s fight had landed her in a jail somewhere. It wouldn’t be the first time. I tried to balanced Derek against the door, while my shaking hands tried to find the now wet key. Finally it gave way and I held my breath as I pushed open the thin door. My senses were alert, listening for every footstep, any sound that might indicate their filthy existence. I relaxed when I noticed the TV wasn’t on. Beer cans surrounded the high definition surround sound that was bigger then the couch. No one could possibly be home if the TV was off. My cold hands dropped the Mickey’s bag onto the table.

“Let’s get dressed huh?” I said to Derek. Derek was awake, but inside his shell. I knew there was no enticing him out until we were safely in the car and far away from his nightmare. Itching to put him down, I quickly entered my room to grab him some clothes and jumped back, my heart racing. Fully spread out and partially covered with blankets, slept my ugly sister and her disgusting boyfriend. Lovers in both houses? This was not my day. From their dull expressions and the wine glasses lining my window sill, I knew they had been drunk. Hangovers were ugly if you got in their way, and particularly aggressive boyfriends do not help the situation at all.

“Alright, buddy, lets do this quickly.” I laid him on the cold floor and undressed his little pajamas, trying to coax him out of his lax state. I hated it when he just stared, it scard me, the fear in his eyes was reflected in my own.

“Come on buddy,” I turned on the water as low as I could and bathed him in warm soapy water, scrubbing his dirty hair with as much soap as I could fit on his malformed head, wincing as I noticed the purple bruise coloring his blonde scalp. The bed in my room began to squeak and I rinsed faster, grabbing a towel off the rack. Quickly draining the tub, I wrapped his shivering body tightly as I laid him back on the floor. In my haste I bumped into the sink, and swore as sharp pains reminded me of my ordeal the night before. I could see Jonah’s face in my mind, his hate staring back into my eyes. I couldn’t run from it, I couldn’t hide. It penetrated my being, his words holding me in fear. I turned and almost ran into my sisters boyfriend. Fear gripped me as I saw the same hate holding his own being together, forming his angry spirit. I diverted my eyes as he screamed, looking for a quick way out.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you never to come here again.”

“I, I, I,” I fumbled, shaking as I tried to push his hands away from me. I managed to pull away from his grip just long enough to grab the only other thing that mattered to me.

“Get out!” He yelled, reaching to grab hold of me. I held my frightened Derek close to my chest as I pushed my sister’s boyfriend out of the way and raced for the door. He wasn’t far behind me, stumbling the whole way, I was never going to make it out alive. I jumped down the stairs, just barely catching my balance as I ran down the driveway, rocks flying. My car door was just in site, I had just enough time to toss Derek’s helpless body in before Ugly was on me. “I didn’t do anything, I just needed clothes!” I protested, as he smashed my forehead against the hood of the car.

“You cause her so much pain, you and your stupid stunts. You and that baby ruined her life.”

“I…” I didn’t get any further as his muscular body, threw me effortlessly to the ground, green eyes blazed as he pinned me beneath his large frame, his hair sticking oddly in all directions.

“Let me go!” I tried to push him off me, but his hate flew from his body as his fingers bore into the side of my cheek, enlarging the bruise from the night before. I could barely breathe under his pin on my bruised ribs. I gasped for breath as he hit me again, and then again before  my face gave in and broke under his seething anger. Blood poured from my nose, running into my mouth and down my face. My body heaved as I tried to gain strength.

Smiling, he hit me again, “You like that? Huh, do ya?” he stood and drop kicked my side. I gave up, weakness spreading from my exhaustion. Trying to block it out, I wrapped my arms around my stomach and tried to think about something else. “

Your worthless, go ahead take it like a little kid, that’s all you really are,” the voice whispered in my ear. My mind began to succumb from pain, tears running into the blood that kept pouring with every merciless kick to my head. It felt like I was breathing blood, every breath I took sent the thick liquid rushing to choke me. I turned to see his foot slide into my side, cracking of my bones reached my ears and I almost passed out as pain’s hands gripped my insides, spilling them out as I coughed up more blood.

“Caden, I’m cold,” my sister whined from the front steps. I never thought my sisters whine would sound so relieving. I took the chance to catch my breath as he paused to talk to her.

“He’s not worth your time,” she said when he turned to me, my eyes closed, not wanting to see his reaction.

“You aren’t even worth my time,” he said, kicking my head to the side as I covered my face with bloody hands. At his feet, I coughed up blood, allowing it to drip onto the grass scratching at my face. I dared open my eyes as he took a few steps back, laughing at my helplessness.

“Come on sweetie, where were we?” his voice retreated back to my room, followed by her giggles. “It’s ok, calm down Guy,” I self medicated, warm blood trickling from open wounds. The loud crashing in my ears began to subside and my fear dissipated with the sound of the city coming back into focus.

“Come on, Guy.”  For a moment I allowed myself to cry into the harsh ground, before I tried to stand up. If my ribs weren’t broken before, they were then. I struggled onto unsteady knees and pulled myself up. The cold wind was beginning to chill my still wet clothes, now colored with my blood. I opened the door and a frantic Derek pulled at me to hold him.

“Derek,” I soothed, as he curled against my chest. I winced as he irritated my torn skin. His crying stopped as he stuck his thumb into his mouth, my blood beginning to drip onto his head. I tried to stop the main flow with my hands, but it just ran through. As soon as I had him buckled into his car seat, I fell into the front seat, stopping to catch my breath before I leaned over and pulled my sweatshirt out from under the seat. Its dark blue coloring turning darker as my blood flooded into it. Now what? I could go to Daniels house, but he would be going to work soon and I didn’t want to spend the afternoon with his bunny. Lydia’s house crossed my mind, but she had already left for school.  Hospital? No, they would ask too many questions. I started the car and shifted into gear. Blood from the gash in my forehead ran into my eyes. At a red-light I gingerly pulled my hoodie on with bruised hands. I let my arms down as soon as I had them through the hoodie. I could not lift them any farther without doubling over in pain. Exhausted, I leaned back in the seat, switching lanes just fast enough to avoid crashing. It isn’t exactly therapy to drive with your hands covered in your own blood. It didn’t even look like real blood, it was dark, the kind that flows when you are losing way too much of it. Despite my daze, I somehow found my way through the city safely and pulled into Derek’s daycare. I checked my appearance in the mirror, sickening with every glance at my beaten face. Little scratches covered my eyebrows and cheekbones where the purple - blue bruises didn’t cover. Blood dripped down in little rivulets from a large tear in my forehead, my chin containing the same kind. My nose was a steady flow of dark red and stood at a weird angle. I couldn’t let the daycare workers see me like this. Pulling my hood low over my head, I forced my bruised fingers to unclip Derek and dress him in the scant onesie and too small pants that lay in his dirty diaper bag. I carried him in the crook of my arm, doing all I could to keep him in it. Stumbling into the bathroom, I shut the enormous door. I washed his hair in the sink and finger combed it to the side. I avoided  another look in the mirror of reality as I rinsed my face, wincing as the cold water washed away liquid evidence. With my head down low, I slipped out of the bathroom and forced myself to walk like it didn’t hurt to his classroom. Silently I handed them the diaper bag and made sure I avoided their eyes, giving them no chance to see my face. “He already ate and is changed,” I mumbled, already turning away. Unexpectedly, a hand pulled at my sweatshirt, I turned to pull away thinking it was one of the children. Just as stunned as the worker, and we both stood staring before her face turned to horror; I knew she had already set herself to call social services. Derek cried as I walked away faster, I wanted to turn back, to rip him from their arms. Derek belonged with a family at least for a little while. All my plans to move to Norway came flooding back and I hoped his future would be brighter then mine. I could give him no more, he was in danger with me. I couldn’t be sure they would take him away, but instinct told me it had been my last chance to keep this hidden. It was bound to fall apart at some point. My adrenaline that had been almost useless before was coursing through me as I heard her giving the description and the situation to the police. I didn’t look back as I ran, I couldn’t, pain would drive me to stop. I raced out the door and into my car as the worker began to run after me. I locked my doors and pulled out of the small parking lot just as she reach the outside. It was Derek’s future, not mine, I was not going back. With no plans, no ideas, I drove blindly, school was the only answer. I could get the nurse to take care of me and I could convince her it was a street fight. It was my last chance, the police would be ready to take me into custody if they found me.

“Their eyes pitied me as four of them held my small frame to the ground when they put us in separate cars.”

My mind flashing with different images, I tried to concentrate as I pulled in and just barely parked the car. I almost passed out as I tried to get out of the car, stumbling into my school of humiliation with my head down low. A few people shoved me and laughed as I walked, but I was avoiding one person in particular. Clay would be steaming to find out I had actually lived and had the audacity to come to school the next day. I threw my weight against the bathroom door and staggered into the tiled prison. Blood ran off my face as I leaned against the wall, trying to keep from passing out. “Wonder who the police are after this time?” sneered Clay’s nasty voice as he slammed open the door to the bathroom, his clowns right behind him. I tried to blend into the wall and hold my breath, I couldn’t let Clay catch me. He was sober as ever, but drunk on his pride, swaggering over to the mirrors, staring at himself.

“Don’t I look pretty boys? I’m going to make a move on Lydia today, if she is smart enough she will follow her heart,” he sneered, making sexual gestures as the guys laughed. I waited hoping to pass out, closing my eyes to help myself along.

“Look what we got here, the kid who spent three hours in McDonalds with my girl,” I heard his clicking steps on the tiled floor. I braced myself as he stopped right in front of me.

“You and Lydia got something going on? Cause I think I should know.”

“No, we,” I stuttered, doubling over as he punched my tender gut. He kneed me into the side of the sink, I suppressed a cry as my ribs hit the metal pipes that contained my death warrant. I leaned my head against the hollow wall of the bathroom. I looked at him, with pleading eyes, but no words. I felt his rage boil inside him and I didn’t fight as his buddy pulled me from my protection on the floor. I let myself fall into another one of the guys who shoved me into Jonah.

“Alright, alright, guys, take a chill pill, he’s just a kid,” Jonah laughed, standing me on my feet. “We beat him up good last night, lets just leave him be.” Clay shoved him aside and grabbed the front of my sweatshirt, forcing my mask to reveal my scarred face.

“Looks like someone already got to you, you deserve it. Beat up anymore little kids?” I looked to the side and he punched me. My head blew back against the wall and I sank to the ground holding my face in my hands. Blood from my already broken nose bled through my fingers. He bent down to my level and flipped back my hood, “Well you bloody little mongrel, how’s it feel to be hurt by someone bigger then you? Now you know how your brother feels, revenge is sweet, too bad he is going to grow up believing it wasn’t your fault.” What could I say? I did it didn’t I? maybe I deserved this. “Let’s go for a little swim,” Clay smiled at my horror.

“Clay come on, I won’t ever go near Lydia again, please let me go,” I begged as he kicked open a stall. Even if I did shake Derek, I didn’t want to leave him, I had to protect him. My mind flashed back to the workers face and the sirens blaring. Derek was with them now, he would be safe. But what if social services gave him back, no one would keep mom from hurting him? In my hesitation, Clay took the chance to weaken me. As he kneed me in the stomach, I bent over coughing up blood.

“Hey, maybe we should leave him alone, he isn’t worth our time,” Jonah said, watching with growing concern as Clay wrapped large hands around my neck.

“Please, Jonah,” I begged, meeting his eyes with desperation.

“Chuck, give me a hand,” Clay seethed as I struggled.

“Clay please,” I tried again.

“Take a deep breath, kid,” was all he answered as he pressure pointed the back of my neck and forced me to my knees. Chuck held my hands behind my back as Clay shoved my head into the narrow bowl of the broken toilet. I tried not to panic as ice cold water swirled around my face. “Guy’s this isn’t funny anymore, get him out, he’s already beat up enough,” I could hear Jonah from far away, as if we were on separate planets.

“Shut up, the kid will live, we are just putting some fear into him,” Clay replied.

I couldn’t move. My body was burning with pain as Clay pushed my midsection against the rim, shoving my ribs into my flesh. I was fading in and out of consciousness as seconds passed. I hadn’t been able to take a deep breath and now I was struggling with my life as what little air I had fizzled out. Every second, I hoped Clay would pull me out, but with every second that he didn’t, it felt more and more like he wouldn’t. I could hear voices in the background, but the only sound that registered was the sound of death surrounding me as I instinctively opened my mouth to breath what should have been air. Water quickly filled my lungs, like a toy squeezed underwater. I tried one last time to jerk my head out from under Clay’s firm grip on the back of my neck, before giving up as he slammed my face into the glass side. Slowly, the blood red water faded to black darkness and I could no longer hear or feel anything. It was like a dream.