WHILE SOME OF THE EVENTS DESCRIBED IN THIS STORY ARE FICTIONALIZED, SO I CAN RETAIN WHAT'S LEFT OF MY SANITY, MANY OF THE EVENTS HERE ACTUALLY HAPPENED AS DESCRIBED. YOU SHOULD KNOW BEFORE YOU CONTINUE THAT THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC ACCOUNTS OF CHILD ABUSE AND VIOLENCE, AS WELL AS DRUG USE BY TEENAGERS. IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED OR THIS KIND OF MATERIAL IS ILLEGAL FOR YOU TO READ, PLEASE STOP NOW. IF YOU ARE, OR KNOW OF A CHILD IN A SIMILAR SITUATION, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! CALL THE POLICE. CALL SOCIAL SERVICES. DO ANYTHING, BUT DO SOMETHING!
Chapter 2
When I woke up again, it was daylight. As soon as I opened my eyes, pain exploded through my head again, and I groaned. I could hear people talking, but I had no idea what was being said, or who or where they were. Before I opened my eyes again, there was someone at my side, squeezing my hand. "Welcome back, buddy!" I heard Ben say.
"Ben, what's going on? Where am I?" I asked him.
"You're at Parkland, man. They flew you down to Dallas a couple of days ago, after they got your head to stop bleeding," he said, a little sadly. I tried to sit up, but he pushed me back down to the bed, very gently, saying "Come on, man, calm down. You've got stitches and staples, and you can't just jump out of bed like that. You'll hurt yourself." Of course, me being me, I started crying, and at some point, I fell asleep again. When I opened my eyes again, there was a little less pain this time. Ben was sitting on a chair right next to the bed, sleeping. There was a man I did not know sitting on another chair at the foot of the bed watching me. He didn't look old enough, but this had to be Ben's dad. They looked like identical twins, except for the difference in eye color.
When he noticed me looking, he said "I'm Joe Forster, Ben's dad. How are you feeling? When you feel up to it, there are some things we need to talk about, and there are a couple of other officers that want to talk to you as well. But, all that can wait. I'm going to go get your doctor."
When he left the room, I noticed that Ben was awake. He just smiled at me, and said "I told you he'd help. He's not really home that much, but he's a good guy, and a good dad. He only works like he does so we can afford to live in a decent place." He paused for a brief moment - then continued with "I've thought a lot about what you said to me that day. I was coming to your house to talk to you when I saw what happened. I'm sorry I didn't try to stop him." When I looked over at Ben, he was crying again. "I was just so shocked! I couldn't believe that I was actually seeing that, and I couldn't move! What if he had killed you while I was just fucking standing there with my mouth hanging open?"
I couldn't say anything. I didn't know what to think. Nobody had ever cared what happened to me before, and I didn't know how to take it. I just turned to face him and cried with him for a minute. Apparently his father had heard what we were saying, though, because he came back over to the bed and put his arms around Ben.
"Son, you couldn't have done anything to stop this, and if you had tried, you would probably be here, too. Or worse, and I can't imagine what I would do if anything happened to you." What he did next shocked me back to the real world. He sat on the side of my bed, between his son and me, and took my hand in his. "As for you, young man, when you get out of this place, you are coming to our house. I've already talked to the cops on your case, the doctors here and family services. You will never have to go back to that house again if you don't want to. Your doctor will be here in a few minutes, and after you talk to him, you should get some sleep. We'll talk more about this and what's going to happen to them later. It's not important now. Just get better. Benny, are you gonna come home for a while, or are you staying here?" Ben looked at me, smiled again, and said that he was staying. "Alright, guys, I'm going to go get you some food - real food, from a real restaurant. I'll be back in twenty minutes or so."
I had to know something, so I turned to Ben, "Ben, the first day I met you, down by the creek, you had bruises all over your face and your neck. Does your dad hit you, too?"
He looked shocked, and then just a little bit like he might throw up. When he turned around to look at me, he was back to just shocked, and said "NO! My dad would never hit either me or my brother. What you saw that day were the remains of a fight I got into the last day of school, right before we moved here. I got jumped by a bunch of guys that wanted to look cool to some gangbangers, and Dad decided that is was too dangerous to live in our neighborhood anymore, so we moved here. I swear to you that's what happened. I know why you asked, though."
I thought about it for a minute, and responded "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be that way, I'm just scared."
With that, the doctor walked into the room, cutting off our conversation. "Good afternoon, Jeremy, how are you feeling today? I'm Dr. Bradley, and I'll be looking after you while you're here. Now, do you want to talk in front of your friend, or should we do this privately?" I looked at Ben, and back at the doctor, then said that I wanted Ben to stay, if he wanted to. He didn't answer me. He just walked back over from the window, sat down on the side of the bed and took my right hand in his left.
"OK, guys", the doctor started, "this isn't going to be easy for you. This is probably the worst I have ever seen anyone beaten, and I've been doing this a while. First, your nose, right cheek bone, and right eye socket were all very badly broken. You have four broken ribs, and three more that are cracked. There was some damage to your right lung, your liver and your spleen. Apparently you put up a hell of a fight, because all of your fingers on your right hand are broken, as well as your right forearm. You had some pretty serious cuts to your forehead, and both lips were split all the way through - I think you bit through the bottom lip with the first hit probably." He looked at me for a moment. "Should I finish?" he asked.
I must have looked shocked, and said "There's more?"
He just nodded, and then continued his list. "We had to put twelve staples in your head, because the gash on the back of your head was too big to close with stitches. We've repaired the lung, removed the spleen and your liver is healing remarkably. You are going to have some pretty bad scars from this, though. I wasn't able to do much to prevent that."
When he got quiet, a thought suddenly occurred to me. I looked at Ben, and then at the doctor, and asked "how long have I been here? What day is it?"
Ben looked towards the window and said softly, "It's August 9th. You've been here and unconscious for almost six weeks."
I started crying again. Christ, I'm such a fucking baby. "Ben," I asked, "where are my sisters? What about my mom?"
The doctor held his hand up for Ben to stop. "Boys, I think we should wait until Ben's dad or one of the other officers get back to discuss anything further. This is a lot of information to take in, and I think the officers who handled the call would like to be the ones to tell you the rest of the story. Now, I have to go finish my rounds, but if you need me, just call the nurses station."
And then, he was gone. I couldn't believe it. Six weeks! What had I done? Why did he hurt me so badly this time? He hadn't even said anything to me beforehand - he just blind-sided me! I was so confused, and scared. I started crying again, of course. Ben didn't say anything. He carefully lay down on the bed with me, and pulled me into his shoulder. He held me there for what seemed like hours, while I just sobbed and asked out loud "Why?" He never spoke, or tried to answer me at all. He just rocked me gently until I stopped crying. These people must think I do nothing but cry, all day, every day. When I finally stopped sobbing, Joe was sitting at the foot of the bed with us again, and he had brought us burgers and shakes. I could tell he had been there for a while, and he looked very upset. He looked like he had been crying as well. He looked over at me, and nodded to my right. When I looked over, Ben was asleep on my shoulder. He still had both arms wrapped around me, and his head was leaning against mine. "Ben," I said softly, "wake, up, man. Let's eat something. I'm starving!" He looked embarrassed that his dad had seen him sleeping on my arm, but Joe just smiled and passed out burgers.
"OK, boys," he said, "I guess I need to fill in the blanks a little bit for Jeremy. Ben, if you don't want to hear this again, I understand if you want to wait outside. I'm sure Jeremy will understand, too." I told him that I did, and I guessed it must be pretty bad, but he just sat back down next to me, and took my hand again, as his father began to speak.
"Well, I guess we should start with the phone call I got from Benny. He had already called 911, and it took me a few minutes to get him calmed down enough to talk. When he told me what happened, I upgraded the 911 call to a major trauma. Ben told me that you had passed out again, and that you had stopped breathing." He looked at me for a moment before he continued. "When I got there, they had already loaded you into the bus, and the other officers had already been through the house. There were no signs of your parents or your little sisters."
Ben squeezed my hand a little bit, and said "are you ok? Do you want to know this right now?" I couldn't speak, so I just nodded for his dad to finish.
He took a deep breath and went on. "Well, we of course put out an APB on both your parents and your mom's van. Both Ben and another neighbor had seen them put your sisters into the van and take off."
I put up my hand to stop him, and stared at the ceiling for a minute before finding my voice. "Are they dead?" I asked in a small voice. "If they are, please just tell me." Joe moved to the other side of the bed, took my other hand in his and looked at Ben, who was crying silently. "Yes, son, I'm afraid they are. We found the van three days later. He had shot them, and then himself. I'm so sorry, son, but they're gone." I just lost it. I don't remember, but I must have screamed pretty loud, because the room was suddenly full of doctors and nurses. I felt a small jab, and then I was asleep again.
When I came to this time, I was alone for the first time in the four days I had been awake. I panicked a little bit, and tried to get out of bed too fast. All too late, I remembered that I had not walked in almost two months, and crashed onto the floor, pulling half the equipment in the room with me. Even though there wasn't really anything funny going on, I must have been high from the pain killers, because the next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor laughing like a madman. Ben and Joe both came running, full steam into the room. I guess they had just been outside talking to the doctor, who was close at their heels. After they picked me up and got me back into bed, and when I had finally stopped laughing like an idiot, Joe asked what was wrong. When I told him that I just had to pee, and freaked out a little bit when I woke up alone, he hugged me and told me he would get me a port a john. He was still smiling when he walked back out the door to give me some privacy. When he and Ben returned, I had more questions. I looked at Joe, and asked "What about my grandparents? Aunts, uncles? Have they been here? Have they asked about me? Do they know I'm going to your house when I leave here?"
It was Ben who finally answered me. He took my hand, and told me "They were here the day after the van was found, and they all stayed for the funerals, but they have all gone home now. They didn't know what to say to you, and they didn't know how to deal with any of this. They all know what the plans are for after you get out of the hospital, and your mom's parents have signed the paperwork for my dad to be your guardian." He stopped, I guess to let me digest all of that.
When I started crying again, he started to talk, and I stopped him. "So, in other words, none of them wanted me in their houses?" I cried.
"Hey, buddy," he said, "you can't look at it like that. They lost a lot, too, and they just kind of freaked out, I guess."
I thought about that for a minute, and then just as quickly rejected it. "No fucking excuse," I said harshly. "They already signed the paperwork? Good. Now, I won't have to deal with them. They never gave a shit, anyway. I mean, really, Ben, this has been going on for as long as I can remember, and they never did anything to help. Fuck'em. I don't want to see any of them, ever again!" Ben lay down next to me and held my head to him while I sobbed myself to sleep yet again. He had to be getting sick of that by now. I mean, these people didn't even know me! Worse, what was I gonna do? I knew I couldn't invade their lives and take over part of their house, like they seemed to think I was going to. My mom's parents didn't want me with them, and neither did her brothers or her sister. I had no money, no way to get back and forth to school or work. I had no home.