𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎

𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕

tw: explicit language, memories of violence, depression.

The days pass in somber silence for David, he's been staying at his mom's and it's been nice, truly. Being with her and Brenda is good, but it still feels weird. He's not used to the attention, the way they ask him questions about his day with interest in their eyes

They don't know the whole story, of course, David couldn't tell them, he thinks it would break their hearts. But most of all David couldn't handle another pair of eyes staring down at him with pity and sadness.

It's been three weeks since he called his mom from the Campbell's phone and asked to stay. And luckily the great state of Oregon allows any child over the age of 15 to choose their place of residence. William has made no more attempts at contact, David hopes it stays that way.

He lays in his room, all lights blown out, it feels empty, and that's because it is.

His bedroom has remained a sill-colored picture of childhood for years, untouched and collecting dust in his memories. David feels out of place here, like a string of old chords with no melody.

And most of all, David is tired, but it's the kind that sleep will never heal. He lacks enthusiasm, life. It's been this way ever since he stared too long into his father's angry eyes, but most of all it was Exer.

David couldn't handle the way Exer would look at him, like he was fragile, about to break. He was worried Exer would never look at him the same.

In every phone call he feels Exer tiptoeing, his voice always soft and unbearingly gentle. And he's constantly asking David if he's okay. It makes him want to scream, and shout until his voice is raw, but he doesn't, and probably never will. And deep down David knows that he can't place his blame on Exer, it's immoral and wrong, but something about Exer's gentle hands and sympathetic smiles makes him sick.

Lately, all he wants to do is lay in his dark room. Exer has been the only one who wills him to get out of bed and pick up the phone.

The summer passes slowly, Brenda busies herself with friends and Cheer, but David can't find the energy to do the same. He can't even close his eyes without remembering the way his nose cracked against his father's fist, or how Exer trembled with magic, slamming doors and shaking the floor. I'm a mess, he thinks.

If only I didn't talk back,

If only he wasn't that drunk,

If only,

If only

If only.

David goes in circles, day in and day out, imagining the different scenarios that would have left his life the same. Because now Exer thinks he's broken, and sometimes he feels like he is.

. . . . . . . . .

The phone rings, David rolls his head to the side and fumbles for the receiver.

He hears the click, the smooth sound of breathing, then a voice, "Day?"

"Hi," David croaks, clearing his throat and sitting upright. He's gotten used to communicating with Exer through the rustic static of a call, with a runway of goodbyes and hellos.

"How are you?" Exer asks, and David replies in his usual one-syllable,

"Good," he pauses, "You?"

"I've been better," Exer laughs, "Lucy knocked over a whole jug of sugar today, her magic has been acting up every time she sees a bird, my dad is still cleaning up,"

"That's funny," David says, although his tone is flat.

the conversation runs dry already. And David knows he's putting in no effort, he's supposed to be the funny friend, the sunny smiling boy. He can tell that Exer is trying so hard, but he can't find the energy in him to do the same.

David can feel it coming,

"Hey Day, are you okay?"

He sighs and David rolls his eyes back,

"What was that?" Exer says, startling him,

"Huh?"

"What's with that face?" David looks around the room widely, how did he know?

"I know you Day, what's going on?" It almost freaks him out how well Exer can read his mind.

"Nothing, it's nothing," he replies, hoping Exer will just drop it.

"C'mon David, you can tell me,"

"I'm fine," he says through barred teeth.

"David, what is-"

"I said I'm fine! Seriously, drop it- god,"

Silence spreads between them.

"I just care about you-"

"We'll maybe you should stop!" David regrets it, right as the words pass through his lips. Why am I doing this? The cruelty, the self-sabotage. He'd been pining for Exer's affections for years and now when he's finally gotten them, he's pushing him away.

David knows he's too far gone, but the hole he digs keeps getting deeper.

"I'm not a baby Exer, god why did you have to come inside that night?" He groans, the words taste bitter on his tongue.

"Why?" he hears Exer scoff, "He was fucking beating you, David, what did you expect me to do?"

"I don't know," David cries out, "I don't know, but I just- I wish you didn't, you're not my savior okay? My life feels so fucked right now, could you just leave me alone!" he slams the phone down.

"David honey, are you okay?" his mother yells from the kitchen.

If one more person asks me that question-

"Yeah Mom," he shouts through closed doors.

David presses his body back against his bed.

"Fuck," he whispers to himself, "fuck, fuck, fuck,"

Why did I do that?

David settles on the conclusion that he would rather have Exer's anger than pity.

He feels like a mess of guilt and misdirected anger. He knows none of this is Exers fault, but he can't seem to be angry at the one person his rage should be defined towards.

A warm tear passes down the side of his face.

"Pumpkin, dinner will be ready in 10!"

"Okay Mom, thanks," David wipes his eyes and sucks in a breath like cooling dusk,

Pull yourself together.