Fragments of His Being | ✓

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

It was evening, and the roosters outside were cooing. The roads were relatively quiet. Which was quite a contrast to earlier in the afternoon yesterday when late teens in blue caps and grows gathered with their parents or talked to each other. It was the end of the school year, and it had felt weird for Cody to wake up without the pit of dread in his stomach that formed when he remembered he still had homework and essays to have due. All of that was over now. He'd graduated just yesterday. No one had come to the ceremony with him, but Quinn's parents had gotten him food and invited him to spend the night.

In the morning, he stayed clear from Charles, waiting for the young man to leave for the day before he started planning his departure. When the clock hit three in the afternoon, he went to the room he shared with Charles. He took out his small black rucksack before he started packing up the little belongings he owned, into it. Sometimes he would stop to go through everything, hoping that he wasn't leaving anything behind.

The fact that high school was over had only started to seem real today because he was moving out of his house. It was early in the evening, and he was squinting under the red light of the only bulb in the room as he tried to get his things from under the bed.

Charles got to use the cupboard to keep his things, while Cody had to stuff his in nook and crannies where Charles wouldn't be angry when he saw them. Having things scattered behind drawers, under the bed and tucked somewhere above the shelves made it hard to get his things together, but he eventually did.

Cody looked around the room one last time, hoping he didn't forget anything. "I think that's about it," he whispered under his breath, smiling to himself as he zipped up the backpack he was holding in his hands.

A grin broke on his lips as he realized what was happening. He was saying goodbye to the cold floor, goodbye to the cigarette smoke, and goodbye to Charles' yelling and alcohol use.

He was really leaving.

Cody was planning to head over to Quinn's place. Quinn's parents had pulled him aside a week ago to tell him it was okay to stay at their place. When he had been leaning on refusing, they had told him to think of it as a holiday. He could simply stay until he figured things out if he wanted. He had given in. He did need a place to stay, and nothing felt more right than being with Quinn. His face heated up at the mere thought of waking up beside Quinn every morning. They would shower together, watch movies with his sisters, and touch each other when everyone else was away.

Cody's smile widened as he looked out into the room. "I'm going to leave this place," he said, letting out a small laugh. It's one of relief and happiness. His feet felt light, and so did his chest. He couldn't wait to get away from Charles. It was as if years of abuse were finally being unraveled in his head as he acknowledged how terrible things had been for him. Getting kicked, slapped, punched and hurt in general. He couldn't believe he had dealt with all that for years.

He hummed, bending a bit to see if he had left anything under Charles' bed. One last look wouldn't harm him, he felt. He stood up straight when he heard the door creak open behind him. He turned to find Charles by the door giving him a frown.

"What are you doing?" the older boy asked, Cody had been gone yesterday, and Cody hadn't informed Charles or his mother about his plans. He didn't feel like he had needed too. Charles wanted him gone anyway, and Charles' mother never wanted to talk to Quinn.

Cody tensed up, letting out a sigh before he made to sit on the floor. He looked over at Charles again, nibbling his bottom lip before answering the boy's question. "I'm packing my things," he announced, tightening his grip on his washed-out backpack.

Charles rose a brow at him, walking over to him before taking a sit on the only bed in the room. The mattress sunk with his weight, and the bed frame creaked a bit as Charles adjusted his sitting position. The bed was twin-sized, and Charles had outgrown it years ago. Cody didn't have a bed of his own. He slept on the floor with the roaches and dust.

"Why? Where are you going? You have nowhere to go," Charles said, making Cody's lip draw into a thin line. To think with that information Charles had been the person to threaten him to leave the house.

Cody bit down on his lower lip, strapping on his bag before getting up from the tiled floor. "I'm leaving," he said, staring directly at Charles. He wasn't going to answer the boy's question from before. It wasn't his business where Cody went.

Cody was wearing faded black jeans, and one of his many cheap graphic t-shirts. A lot of his clothes were already at Quinn's place. He just had to pick up after himself at home.

The room was silent for a while when Charles didn't say anything in reply. The two boys watched each other with unmoving gazes—Cody's lighter brown ones staring into Charles' dark ones. Cody had his brows knitted into a frown, and he was putting up a brave face, but his hands were shaking, and deep down he was scared. You didn't overcome the fear of your bully overnight, and Charles could hurt him right now. Cody's eyes dart to the door, as he thought of leaving. Charles gets up from the bed, before walking to block the boy's way.

"You're leaving," Charles said, smirking. "Is that so?" The older boy laughed before his features came together to form a cold look.

"You're not going anywhere," he said. His voice made a chill run up Cody's spine, but the small boy still attempted to walk past Charles. He gets shoved back, making him stumble a bit before finding his feet.

"What is your problem? You wanted me to leave after graduation, and that's what I'm doing, let me go!" Cody couldn't help yelling. His blood was boiling, and he was on the verge of shedding hot tears.

"You want me to let you go so that you can meet that Quinn boy? Not a chance," Charles said, reaching out to gran and twist Cody's hand.

"You don't deserve happiness. You're a piece of shit. I'm not letting you leave to be better off while my mother and I rot here because of you— because of your mother," the older boy drags Cody out of the room by the arm before stuffing him into the small bathroom at the end of the hallway. Cody's eyes went wide when he noticed what was happening.

"My mother is working all night today, so scream as much as you want, no one's going to hear your voice," Charles said, blocking the bathroom door. The flickering orange light sparks from time to time, filling the silence void of the boys' voices.

Cody opened his mouth, wanting to speak. "Why—"

"Shut up," Charles said, cutting Cody off before he could finish. He looked down at Cody who was now sitting on the browning tiles before turning and shutting the door behind him.

Cody felt his heart all. He stared at the door until his eyes get blurred with unshed tears.

The boy could hardly breathe. He looks down at the floor, reaching up to cover his face with his hands before he beings to sob.

Will Quinn worry about me? He wondered, trying to control his tears.

Cody was losing hope very fast. Even if Quinn worried and came over, he wondered if Charles would let him in. Cody wondered if Charles would lie about his whereabouts, or tell Quinn lies about their father's death. Cody didn't know.

"God damn it!" he screams, pulling his hair until his scalp began to burn from pain. He needed any sensation—anything to numb out the despair building in his chest.

Cody felt the tears make their way down his cheeks. He sits up by the tiled wall, looking up at the leaking sink. His vision blurred again, and his throat felt coarse from his sobs.

He hoped Quinn would come and find him.