Page 68 of Heavy
Now, this world has left me feeling unworthy of even His love. A forgotten, broken son, cast into a world that would rather swallow me whole than offer a chance at survival.
Then throwing someone as beautiful as Cal at me, knowing damn well I’ll only fuck that up like I’ve done with everything else.
Living really is a piece of shit.
AGE 13
“I’m a little busy, Bro.” That’s what he said last week.
“When will you be coming home?” My tone is far more abrasive and rude. I need to talk with him in person. “I’ve not even seen you this year, not even during your summer break.”
He groans. “Listen, I had classes during the summer and Amanda is—”
“Fuck her, Eamon! What about me?!”
I was never meant to be this type of kid. I’d never cussed, and I can tell by the tone of my brother’s voice he is just as shocked. “Jesus, Ro, what is wrong with you?” My fingers squeeze around the phone just as I slam my forehead against the wall. “You need to grow up, I wasn’t going to be there forever. Make some friends.”
Tears I’ve become too familiar with fall down my cheeks, drawing lines all the way across my neck.
“I just… I just need help.” My knees feel hallow as they hit the ground. “Please come home.”
I can tell he is angry by the grunts and moans he is producing on the other side. “Didn’t mom get you a therapist?”
“You aren’t listening to me!” I scream, and with a violence I’ve come far too accustomed to, I throw the phone across the room. The shattering of plastic and wires accompanies my shout of agonizing rage.
“What the fuck was that?” I hear my dad bellow from the living room.
I’m up on my feet quickly, running and slamming my shoulder against the door to the backyard, then bursting into a sprint. I throw myself against the wooden gate as I round the house and run.
I run.
And run.
And fucking run.
I go until my lungs won’t allow me to go any further. Only when my calves are locking, and my legs shake, do I stop fighting to keep moving.
The streetlights that illuminate the sidewalk make me feel too exposed. I’m sure soon my mom will be out in her car looking for me, but I don’t want to be found. I need someone to listen to me, someone that will help me. Anyone that will keep me together, along with my family.
When I slip from under the light, my eyes focus ahead, and I’m wondering if it’s a sign. A church, the interior illuminated as if it is calling for me. Mom talked about a ‘God’ helping when she would pray to him. She said that they struggled to give Eamon a sibling, and that when they started talking to Him, she got pregnant with me.
We never went to church as a family. My dad never wanted to be a part of organized anything other than the cults associated with sports.
I move quickly, slipping through the green metal gates. I’ve lost any muscle I had at one point from playing baseball. I’m so skinny that I’d have been mistaken for a tree branch if I stayed still long enough. My mom thought I’d developed an eating disorder after Eamon left, my dad thought I was doing it for attention.
Neither of them are right.
I hoped my uncle would find me too repulsive to get any enjoyment intreatingme.
When I make it to the large, brown ornate doors that have sculpted angels, I attempt to open them. They are locked, of course, because why wouldn’t the place of sanctuary be open for me when I need it.
I move around to the side of the church, carefully climbing up to the edge of a window. Bracing myself, I try to jiggle it open.
Nothing.
I bang my shoulder against it but can feel that I may just shatter the entire window and likely hurt myself if I keep this up. I’ve never broken the law before, but isn’t this place supposed to be a safe haven if needed? I feel like if God helped my mom, he’d forgive me for trying to find shelter.
Jumping down, I scan the patch of greenery until I spot a rock that fits snugly in my hand. With it, I step back to the window, positioning myself just far enough to throw it with enough force to take out one of the smaller panes. The glass shatters and I tug my shirt off, wrapping it around my hand to carefully break away the remaining shards, clearing a path to reach in and unlatch the window.
