Carousel | RIARKLE

•nine - f.m.•

❗️Trigger warning: Abuse Relationship❗️

The sun was setting beautifully as Farkle made his way into his house and dropped his backpack on the table. He sat in one of the chairs. So this was it. He was graduated now, an adult for real.

His father walked in, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat. He was sober, for now. "Oh, Farkle. You're home. How was school?"

"I didn't have school, Dad. I had my graduation a couple days ago. You, of course, missed it. I'm out of high school now. I'm an adult." His voice rang with sharpness, and he blanched momentarily. "I-Uh I have some work to do up in my room. I'll be down later, for some dinner." Farkle looked over his father's expression, looking for any type of emotion, but saw nothing. His father's eyes were dull and lifeless, his entire face hollowed out by stress and an alcohol addiction.

Farkle turned around and grabbed his bag, biting down on his lip and trudging up the stairs slowly. He missed the past days, when he was three or four and he had memories of taking up leaves as a family or riding around on his dad's shoulders, holding his arms out and squealing with joy. That was back before his mom had started yelling at Stuart late at night. That was before his world came crumbling down.

Farkle turned the light off in his room and lay across his bed, staring out the window. A thin shaft of moonlight shine through his panoramic window, and Farkle went to stand in it. He looked out at the sky, at the thousands of stars crowding the navy blue space. And, for once in a long time, he wished he wasn't completely alone.

He checked the time anxiously and made his way to the door. It was only 8:45, the carnival should still be open for a few more hours. He grabbed his jean jacket and a pair of Converse before running out the door with his keys. With a soft purr, he started his car, a midnight black Mustang, and cruised into the night.

It took a little over five minutes to get to the carnival from where he lived. He walked around slowly, looking at the different rides and booths. He pulled out his wallet to check how much money he had, only to find he only had about $20 left.

Farkle wandered the thin "streets" in search of a particular booth. The one that a certain Riley Matthews would be occupying. Finally, he found her, just past a pile of hay bales that a couple was making out on. He discovered her at the Ferris wheel, feverishly cranking the lever that made the huge circle go around.

"Hey, Riles." He spoke in a soft tone, startling her noticeably. She licked her lips quickly and replied,

"Hello there, Mr. Minkus." She giggled quirkily at the strange name, and Farkle rolled his eyes.

"Please, call me Farkle." Farkle responded in a lavish accent, a hint of humor in his eyes with the exaggerated tone.

Riley smiled softly. "So what brings you here on this fine summer night, Farkle?" The way Riley emphasized his name sent shivers down Farkle's back. He winked playfully and sat down on a small wooden crate not two feet in front of Riley.

"Well, to be honest, I kind of just wanted to talk." Riley's silly face fell, and she was suddenly deathly serious. "There's just been a lot going on for the past few days, but it sorta goes back a few years..." Farkle looked up at Riley, his eyebrows creased nervously.

"I–Okay. You can trust me, you can tell me anything. Where does it all start?" She asked tentatively, seeing the sensitive look on Farkle's face, the vulnerability in his eyes.

"Well, back when I was about 6, I recognized the voices of my parents coming from the kitchen, echoing through the house, every night. Some nights it seemed fine, like everything would be okay, and the next morning it was all back to normal. But other nights, shouts rang through the house, insults and accusations flying like bullets at the other. It hurt," Farkle's voice broke. "To hear them, like that, so undeniably loathing each other, when I was only small. I needed my parents, the way they were. Together, happy smiling. I guess it just never was like that. At least, not for real. It was all fake, for a long time."

Riley looked at him, sympathy in her eyes. For her, her dad hadn't left until about a week ago. But for him, he had had this since he was small. His mum had left when he was only 8. A child too young to understand even what the words divorce and hatred meant, especially in a marriage.

"After a few years, it got worse. He would beat her sometimes, and I'd–I'd hear her screams through the walls of the house, pleading with him endlessly to stop. That she'd do anything–anything to make it stop." Farkle's body was racked with quiet sobs, and tears streamed down his already pink cheeks. "So he stopped. At least, with beating her. But I'd hear things late at night. He was abusing her, but not beating her. She'd protest faintly but he'd shut her up by kissing her across the face. He would hold her hands down and he–he raped her. I didn't realize it back then, I was too young. But I realized it later, when I was older. He'd do it most nights, more when he was drunk. He'd come home from work wasted, and he would do that. Something meant as a sign for love and caring for another person, and he used it as a punishment." Farkle was fully in tears now, trying to keep his composure but failing.

"So one night, just as he was about to start again, she left. She packed up the last of her belongings, punched him squarely in the jaw, swore at him and left. I never blamed her, just regretted that she hadn't taken me with her. Because after that, after she was gone and he realized she was never coming back, he started beating me. Every day before school, and every night when I got home. I was forced to cover the bruises and scars with makeup, or make up a story to tell, to explain the plethora of scars and bruises that covered my arms and legs, sometimes my face, every single day."

Riley stopped the ride and let everyone off, then knelt down beside Farkle. Gently, cautiously, she wrapped her thin but strong arms around him. She caressed his back and ran her hands through his hair. "Oh, Farkle," She sighed, a couple tears running down her face. "I never realized. I'm so sorry. No one should treat you like that." She kissed his forehead like a mother would, and stared into his eyes.

"And that was it. I couldn't defend myself against my father, there was no way. I still can't. When he gets like that, the best I can do is hide up in my room, hoping he'll leave me alone." He finished as he smiled weakly, and Riley swallowed.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I know some of what you feel. My mum and dad, they argued sometimes. For as long as I could remember, they had yelled and shouted and screamed until I wanted nothing more than to leave home. I'd sit out on the fire escape, watching the stars and hoping, praying things would be alright in the morning. They seemed to be, just like you said, but they never were. Just over a week ago, my dad left. My mom ended the marriage, and he packed up his bags and left. Just like that, I went from having my parents, to my parent. It hurt and I didn't understand why they just seemed to fall out of love." Riley sighed, and ran her hand through her hair, starting the ride up again. Farkle watched with wonder as her eyes lit up, looking over the kids with such care in her features.

Farkle slowly stood up and walked to Riley's side, taking a deep breath and holding her in his arms, wrapping his muscles arms tightly around her shoulders. Her arms found their way to his waist, and they hugged each other like nothing else I'm the world mattered. They just needed one another for comfort in this moment. The stars gleamed, and Farkle finally let go. Riley looked embarrassed for a second, then she leaned up onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Farkle's cheek squarely. He smiled faintly, and sat down again, biting on his lip.

He would never admit it then, but Riley drove him crazy. Her small little smiles that seemed to light up the entire world, her sparkling auburn-brown eyes that had to be purer than a mountain stream. Her plain innocence and love for anything and everything inthe world. And her perfect understanding of the things that were most important.

He didn't realize it at that moment, but he was in love with Riley Matthews.