Connections

I slowly open the door. I glance around the room and find Davey sitting on our bed, playing with the old Gameboy I had and gave to him. He looks up at me, curiosity and anxiety residing in his eyes. “Are you okay, Mina?” he asks.

I nod and walk over to him, sitting on the bed. I watch him as he saves the game and turns it off, sensing that something is up. When it’s done he turns and looks at me as I sit with my back against the headboard. “What’s wrong? Who was at the door?” he asks.

“Nobody, lovebug. It was an old friend of mine,” I lie, opening my arms. I don’t need him knowing his tormentor knows where we live. He crawls forward, resting his head on my chest and curling up to my side as I wrap my arms around him. I kiss his head. “We need to talk, okay?”

“Talk about what?” he asks. I can already hear the panic in his voice.

I take a deep breath. “Davey, you know I’m not going to let anything happen to you ever again, right?”

“Right.”

“And you know I love you, right?”

“Right.”

I shut my eyes tight to fight the tears threatening to spill. “How did you help Richard make money from his friends?”

Instantly Davey tenses up. I start rubbing his back as I explain, “I know it’s hard to think about. I don’t want you to ever have to think about this again, but I need to know. Please, you have to tell me.”

Quivering a little, Davey whispers, “Bad things.”

“I know, I know,” I murmur. “I’m right here, okay? You never have to see them again. I just need to know.”

He scoots into me further, almost trying to use me as a cocoon. After a moment, he mumbles, “Richard would take me to his friend’s house.”

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Mm-hmm,” I encourage.

Davey sighs, and I squeeze him tighter. “I’d have to take my clothes off,” he says. I squeeze my eyes shut again, tears already seeping through. “They would take pictures of me,” he continues. “I would be doing different things in the house. They had a whole room full of things. Sometimes they used those things on me.”

I squeeze my boy to me as he starts crying. I start whispering that everything is okay, and that none of that’s ever going to happen again, but on the inside I’m just as distraught.

How could people do such a thing to a little boy? What could an eight year old have done to deserve such awful treatment? And what if they did worse? What if Davey hasn’t even gotten to the worst part? The thought makes my stomach churn and my heart ache.

Once he’s calmed down a bit, I force the conversation to continue. I have to get it out of the way. “Davey, did they ever touch you themselves?”

He nods, tears rolling down his face. “Sometimes. They would spank me or touch me.”

“Did they ever...” The words won’t leave my mouth. I can’t control myself anymore and tears begin falling freely. “Did they ever rape you, Davey? Do you know what that is?”

He nods, and my heart drops. “They didn’t use theirs on me, but there were objects like them. They used those on me. It hurt. It hurt.” He begins crying again.

I sob too as I hold him tight, and he wraps his arms around me and holds onto me like a life-ring. I kiss his head a million times and whisper that things will be okay. On the inside my heart has shattered into a thousand little shards that have stuck themselves into my lungs, making it hard to breathe. What monsters could do this to a little boy?

Davey cries for a long time, and I let him. He’s had such torture put upon him for a long time. This abuse is going to scar him for the rest of his life, and there’s nothing I can do to reverse that. My little brother is damaged. I couldn’t protect him from that.

When Davey stops crying, he pulls away and sits in front of me to wipe his eyes. I try to take care of my own face too, knowing my eyes are probably red and puffy and seeing me cry probably doesn’t do him any good. When we’ve both finished we just look at each other.

I don’t know what to say. I want to make him feel better, but I don’t know how I would do that. I can’t keep repeating stupid things like “it’ll be okay” and “it’ll never happen to you again”. After a while they just sound hollow.

“Mina?” He sniffles.

“Yes, lovebug?” I respond, sitting up and taking his hands.

“Tell me about Dad,” he says, and he crawls back to my side and curls up against me.

Hesitation hits my body like a freight train, and Davey can feel it. He looks up at me and says, “Please, Mina, I just want to know. Why haven’t I met him yet?”

So much for making him feel better. My whole life I’ve tried to disassociate myself from Parker. Oswald isn’t a common name, but I tell people it’s my grandmother’s name since she raised me so people don’t see the ties between me and Parker. I suppose, though, having a baby brother has changed this. And he has a right to know who he’s related to. I just wish it were a better man.

I sigh and look at the ceiling. “Parker-- well, Dad isn’t a great guy. He’s in prison for working with bad people and for hurting people.” I figure I’ll leave out the murder part-- he doesn’t need to know that now. “He’s been in and out of jail since I was about your age. That’s why Grandma raised me. Grandma has been the only person in my whole life who really loves me, and she really loves you too.”

“Doesn’t Dad love us?” he asks.

I bite my lip, looking down at the messy blue hair of my brother. “In his own weird way, I bet he does. He doesn’t love us enough, however, to try to be a decent person. He gets too wrapped up in his own wishes. You probably aren’t going to meet him until you’re a little older than me. He’s in for twenty-five years at minimum.”

Davey just sits still, processing what I’ve told him about Dad. It’s hard to have to tell him that our father is a bad guy, but it’s true. I’m not going to lie to him and put this sense of wonder in his head. He needs to know that Parker isn’t worth the time. He doesn’t deserve Davey’s thoughts.

“Am I going to grow up and be a bad guy?” Davey asks, and I can feel him curling tighter to me.

“No, no, no, Davey. No,” I say, squeezing him. It didn’t occur to me until right now that he probably hasn’t met a decent man in his life, what with Richard and his friends and now knowing that Dad isn’t a good person. He probably thinks every grown man is a bad guy. “Davey, everyone has the option to choose. Some people don’t care about others as much as themselves, and they become the bad guy. There’s plenty of people, though, who grow up and do wonderful things! They grow up to be doctors or philanthropists or musicians or artists or whatever they want and they help other people. I work with really amazing men at my job! They’re all so nice and talented. You can do that, Davey. You don’t have to be bad when you grow up.”

He ponders my words for a moment. I squeeze him again and kiss the top of his head. “Davey, there isn’t a bad bone in your body. You’re never going to grow up to hurt people. I know it.”

He looks up at me, sniffles, wipes his nose with the back of his hand, and sits with his legs crossed over one another. “Can I meet the amazing men you work with?”

My chest warms up a bit, seeing him curious and wanting to meet people. “Yes, lovebug. On Monday, I’ll bring you to the studio. Some of the guys you might recognize from the coffee shop.”

He nods and blinks the water out of his eyelashes before finally giving me a small smile. The miniscule look of ease residing in his features makes the tension in my shoulders release, and I move forward and kiss his cheek. “Everything is going to be better, Davey,” I say. “I promise.”

Davey doesn’t reply and instead just looks at me before nodding a little. He pauses a moment, and when he looks at me he asks, “Can we get some slushees?”

I smile back at him, wiping my own eyes and shaking out my hair. “Yes, lovebug. Let’s go get some slushees.”

Notes

ALRIGHT NOT SO HAPPY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE AND NOW THAT THAT PART IS OVER LET'S RESUME THE STORY

Sorry for making this chapter so sad. It just had to be done.

But it's done.

I promise.

Lol also I got a job! Making updates much more infrequent but I promise they'll come still. So your patience will have to grow a bit, because working retail is tiresome af. In fact, the thrift store I work at is half off every item in the store tomorrow. It's gonna' be a great fucking Friday, dude.



Hope your Fridays are all better than mine haha

Yours,
~Niki X,,,,,,x