Superman

Chapter 18

      Marshall's apartment in fairly close to the hospital. Rule and I make it there in under 15 minutes. Either that or Rule drives like Marshall does. Insanely fast. My stomach churns in agony with the thought of Marshall. We climb the stairs to his front door. The stairs seem darker than before, gloomier. The building itself lacks liveliness. The inside of Marshall's apartment is no better. It was dull before but now, the darkness engulfs me. Even though Rule is here I feel completely alone. I remind myself that I haven't got my mom anymore. A harsh pain clenches my heart, like someone is digging their nails right into the center and pulling outward.

      I think about mom and even though I will never say it out loud, I miss her. When I think about mom, I think about dad. I hate him. I hate my father. He always favored my half sister, Kate, over me. She got everything she ever wanted including our dad. Maybe I was a little jealous then, but what my father did is unforgivable. He's not even worthy to be called my father. He's just the guy who made me. I don't care what happens to him or where he is. I hope he's burning in hell, or jail.

      I stand in Marshall's vacant living room, fists clenched with anger at my sides. I feel the rage building inside. It doesn't take much for my anger to turn into tears, so when I see Marshall's leather jacket hanging by the door I lose it. Tears rain down from my cheeks like an avalanche leaving no survivers. Rule sits quietly on the couch observing me. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't move at all, he just watches me. It's a while before he speaks.

"What is it?" He asks. "Those tears aren't for Marshall I know that."

"They're not." I say through gritted teeth. "But he's not helping to stop them."

      Rule sighs and pats the spot next to him on the couch. Slowly and with caution I walk to the space and sit down. I fold my legs beneath my body, awaiting Rule's next instruction. He stares at me again, a tattooed arm pulling a blanket across my legs.

"You can tell me." He says. "Tell me your story and I'll tell you mine."

      I laugh at his proposal. I wipe a couple tears away, looking at him again.

"You don't want to hear it." I sniffle. "It's bad."

"I bet I can top it." Rule folds his legs under himself too and pulls the other half of the blanket over them. "Come on." He urges. "It's good to talk."

"Really?" I ask, as a last confirmation to tell him.

"Yep." He smiles. "Ready when you are."

"But I haven't even told Marshall." I whisper.

"Neither have I." He chuckles. "You will eventually. And he hasn't told you about his mom or dad so don't worry yet."

      For some reason I understand. I realize that if Rule hadn't told me, I'd never know about Marshall's mom or dad. I'd be totally blind. So I begin to tell Rule, and I go into excruciating detail. He cringes as I speak of the awful things that were done to me and my family. I do not cry as I tell him. I maintain my game face. Years of crying have ridden my body of pitiful tears. Yes my body goes numb with the thought of it, but that's all. I explain to Rule everything, making sure to leave out nothing. His face when I finish is shocked. His eyebrows are knitted as I watch him process my life's story. What comes next is a hug. It's long enough to be brotherly and short enough to keep it that way.

"I'm sorry." He says with sincerity. "I know that sorry means absolutely nothing, but for what it's worth I am."

"Thank you." I say. "Now you."

"You sure you're ready?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Well it started with my brother..."