virus // jorey

jordison.

I didn't even hear Chris' desperate attempts to woe me back into the car. I was already halfway up the driveway. I completely ditched my heels in Chris' vehicle and nearly slammed into one of the officers who quickly restrained my wrists. He could clearly see my disheveled demeanor. I was barefoot, the bottom of my fishnets were tearing against the asphalt and black eyeliner was falling from my face.

"Sweetheart you can't go in there." The sherrif said with a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Please!" I begged sobbing, my voice croaked in high pitched wine, "you have to help my boyfriend his dad hurts him almost every day!" I continued to sob against the man's chest, "please help my Corey please he doesn't deserve this, don't neglect him like everyone else here..." I looked up at him and his face was firm.

I looked at his officer tag and it read Peter on a golden plate. "Peter please don't let him hurt him anymore, Corey never did anything, please believe me! Please..." I continued to sob and wriggle in Sheriff Peter's inhumanely strong grip and he calmly asked me to get a hold of myself.

I figured it was a lost cause, but to my surprise Peter put his hand on the small of my back gently and escorted me into the ransacked house. "I'm going to get my ass chewed for this..." he mumbled to himself. There were officers already studying Corey's father's limp body, one stating he was still breathing as another picked up a dread that was drenched in blood...

The entire house smelled like human feces and decay. Bottles and garbage and what looked like actual shit lie matted in the carpet, furniture, and tile floor. When I looked up, flies and maggots could be seen festering in the inner corners of the ceiling and the piles of trash.

My heart ached as I began to feel nauseous. "Good God." One of them said placing the dread in a sealed evidence bag.

I let out a sob, "His dad must have done that to him and Corey probably tried fighting back- where is he? Where is Corey? Corey!" I tried leaving the front entryway but I was stopped again by the 6'8 sheriff that surprisingly seemed to be taking my side. "Hold on sweetheart okay?" His thick Brooklyn accent rumbled deep within his broad frame. "If he's still here we need to get him medical attention."

"Who the fuck does this to their kid?" An officer sounded to my left, as if he hasn't seen a fucking domestic case before...

"Grab this piece of shit and clear out." Ordered Peter, motioning towards Corey's father. "Oh- and cuff him."

Three officers somehow managed to get the bloodied man to his feet, one holding him up as two quickly cuffed him and dragged him away. I watched his bare feet skid along the pavement and cringed.

"Hey we got someone down here!" An officer called from the lower level of the house. I darted down the cold and hard stairs before Peter could stop me.

"Corey!" I cried at the sight of his crumpled figure laying limp on the tattered ground. Blood was pooling from his scalp from his ripped dread, and I placed his head in my lap not a second later.

"My Corey..." My voice broke as I cradled his face in my hands. His eyes were closed and he didn't stir when I touched him or spoke. I ran my fingertips along his sunken and bruised eyes and continued to sob helplessly, "Corey please wake up...please baby." My head fell against his chest.

Nothing. I desperatly tried listening to his heartbeat, but failed miserably through my fits of tears.

I began to scream in rage when I felt a body try to pull me off of him. "Fuck you!" I writhed in Peter's grip, "Don't take him away from me!"

"Sweetheart your boyfriend needs medical attention or he's going to draw his last breath in this damn basement, okay?" He clutched me close against his frame as I listened to him order a stretcher. I turned and cried into his torso. He patted my back in attempt to assure me, but my emotions were so heightened there was no point in even trying.

Two paramedics picked him up, and I watched broken hearted as I followed suit close by. "Ma'am we need you to step ba-"

"Fuck you." I seethed through gritted teeth before getting close to him again and pressing a long kiss against his lips, "I'm not going anywhere baby, I'll be here when you wake...okay? Okay Corey?"

He said nothing.

"Okay...?" My voice trailed off as they pushed me off of him again and wheeled him into the ambulance.

Chris was quickly to my side and I began to bawl into his shoulder as he held me there, cooing and shushing me all the while. "He's going to be okay Jo." I could hear the twinge of uneasiness in his voice before he even spoke.

The ambulance drove away with its sirens blazing and the police cars followed soon after. Peter stayed behind to ask me more questions. To which I happily heavily fabricated as much as possible. (it didn't take much fabrication, really, Corey's dad is a fucking psycho.)

Peter slowed me down through my stuttering. "Sweetheart, I've seen some pretty fucked up neglect cases. But this..." he shook his head and then turned back to Chris and I. "How old is Corey?"

"He's turning eighteen in just weeks." Said Chris quickly.

"Good. Does he at least have a place to stay until then? CPS won't give two shits about him if he's about to be an adult. I highly doubt he wants to be placed there anyway. System is fucked." Peter scribbled a few things down in a note pad before ripping off a piece of paper and handing it to me. "To get this fucker taken away for as long as possible, I will need you to contact me for more information eventually. But for now, we have enough."

Chris took the paper from me and put it securely in his pocket, "Corey will stay with me until his birthday. Uhm...where exactly is he going right now?"

Peter gave us the name to the hospital and we quickly made haste.

Despite not believing in any God's or Goddess', I prayed to whatever higher power in the sky that Corey would be alright...