Nate's Birthday

As Nate’s birthday approached, mine would follow soon after, we were only a few days away from March 30th, we were going to be 13, we still showed up with bruises, Nate’s anger was getting worse, he held it in, there wasn’t anything he could do for me, I know in his mind he thinks there is, but in reality it would make it all much worse. My arm had finally fully healed, I had spent some time away after the ER visit, I kept in contact with Nate, he also visited a bunch of times. He was a great best friend, I woke up, got dressed, I passed my dad’s room, he was drunk still, I sighed, I pulled on my hoodie, bruises on my arms, and face from last night’s beating from my dad, I walked downstairs, my mom was shooting up in the living room, I wiped some tears that started falling, I walked out my front door, down the front steps, I stopped on my front lawn, closing my eyes, tears falling.

I didn’t realize Nate was on his porch watching me, I didn’t see him walk over to me, he put his arms around me, causing me to scream and I jump, he put his hands up,

“Whoa, Brook it’s just me,” his face looked pained, he looked concerned.

“Sorry Nate,” I say.

“It’s okay Brook, I promise.” He says.

I nod and move closer to him, putting my arms around him, slowly hugging him. He slowly put his arms around me, I flinch, he sighs, I know it drove him crazy that I jumped at every touch, even coming from him. I know he would never hurt me like that, but all the mistrust sucked, I want to know what it’s like to be happy, be safe and loved. I hoped one day I could get that, I would have to learn how to.

He gently touched my cheek, I flinch a bit, he runs his fingers over the bruises, lost in his own thoughts, I place my hand over his, looking him in the eyes,

“Nate will you tell me what you’re thinking?” I ask.

He looks at me, “There’s a lot going on in my mind, right now I want to hurt your father, he shouldn’t be beating you.”

I look back, “Neither should your mom’s boyfriend, Nate you’re my best friend, I hate seeing your face that way, your arms too, the silent bus rides to school with you just staring out the window the whole way to school, Nate this is hard to say I can’t express my emotions or anything.”

Nate’s face changed, I saw some love in his eyes right then, then it was gone, back to hard to read Nate. Damn my best friend was hard to read, I hate it, I want to help him but can’t,

“Come on, let’s go in,” I say to him.

He nods, “Okay Brook, I’m sorry, I have a hard time expressing my emotions too.”

He followed me into my house, we walked by the living room my mom was passed out, on dope and pills, I saw Nate look at her,

“Let’s go Nate, she’s sleeping.”

He knew better, “What does your mom do?”

I looked at him but refused to tell him,

“Let’s go to my room,” I say walking upstairs.

He follows, “Brook, why won’t you tell me?”

I keep walking going down the hall, I run right into my dad by accident,

“Sorry sir,” I say as my dad looks pissed.

He doesn’t even see Nate, his eyes locked on me,

“YOUNG LADY HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I FUCKING TOLD YOU, TO PAY ATTENTION TO WHERE YOU ARE GOING??!!!”

He screams at me, then punches me in the face, grabs me by the arms slams me against the wall a few times, then he grabs me by my throat choking me hard, I gasp for air, then a moment later I’m dropped and Nate tackles my drunk father, who hits his head on the wall and falls asleep. I roll over coughing, trying to catch my breath, Nate runs over to me, helping me to my feet, he walks to my room grabbing me some clothes, and my school stuff.

“You’re staying with me for a bit, my mom won’t care, her boyfriend might beat me don’t be alarmed, I won’t let him touch you,” Nate says walking over to me, “This is hard to say, I care about you.”

I look at him, untrusting, shaking slightly from the PTSD, my eyes filled with tears, and I cried. Nate walks me out of my house, over to his, we walk up the porch steps, he opens the door, we walk in, I look around as we do, I see his mom asleep on the couch, I looked at Nate, it was like my house because she looked like my mom does, my heart broke, I followed him upstairs, he looked at me,

“He’s in his room, we’re in the clear, let’s go.”

I followed him upstairs, down the hall, he opened his bedroom door, walking in, he placed my stuff down, looking at me, he went to grab some stuff to clean up my cuts from the beating, he comes back, cleaning them up, then puts the stuff away, walks back, shuts his door, looks at me, walks over to me, sitting next to me, his door is opens, his mom’s boyfriend steps in,

“WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT CLOSED DOORS?!” He screams at Nate.

“Sorry sir,” Nate says.

He walks over to Nate, grabs him, drags him out of his room, down the hallway, down the stairs, into the kitchen and beat the shit out of him, he screamed and cried. It was bad, I never thought my heart could shatter so badly, that made it shatter horribly, I began to cry hard, shaking, after about 5 minutes of this, Nate returned. He was covered in blood and bruises, I cried harder, he walked over to me, wrapping his arms around me as I jumped, he didn’t care he gently squeezes me, trying to calm me down, I didn’t realize how badly I was shaking, after a few minutes of him gently squeezing, I finally calmed down.

“Thank you,” I say to him.

He says through tears, “You’re welcome.”

I look at him, my heart gone in pieces at the sight of him, he was still crying a bit, it hurt me more to see him crying, his eye was a deep purple, his lip was split open, blood running down his chin, his head had a cut, blood running down the side of his face, bruises on his arms, hand prints on his wrists. I look at him again, my emotions not letting me say a word, I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I had no trust in love right now. He looks back at me, not trusting either, that look of love in his eyes as he looks at me, then it’s gone. I wrap my arms around him, he jumps a little, then settles into my hug, he turns facing me and pulls me close, as he battles the voices in his head, that make him think twice. We hug for a few minutes, then were called to dinner, we go downstairs eat, then get sent us to bed, Nate looks at me after we get into our PJs,

“Sleep next to me, I don’t trust him, I’m surprised he hasn’t touched you yet, he beats my momma too, it sucks.” He says to me as he lays down.

I nod and I lay down next to him, “Okay Nate.”

I didn’t have a choice, he put an hand on me after he closed his eyes, just to make sure I was there, I closed my eyes in his dark room, door open, we fell asleep, his hand not leaving my arm, he gently held on, when the morning came, we awoke, were called for breakfast, we went downstairs, ate breakfast, then went upstairs and changed into day clothes, we were sent outside to play for a bit, we put on our coats and walked outside, it was slightly chilly today, it’s the day before Nate’s birthday too,

“Okay good start to today, he’s in a good mood, let’s hope it lasts, he usually beat’s momma first, then me later,” Nate confesses, I was shocked, we didn’t trust each other that much to confess what happens to our parent or what they do.

“I’m sorry, abuse sucks.” I say.

He nods, then we go for a walk, it was a quiet one, we both were lost in our thoughts, we walked for awhile, then turned around and headed back home. He looked at me from time to time I did the same, we cared about each other, but had such a hard time expressing it. We got back to his house, had lunch and his mom’s boyfriend let us watch cartoons until dinner, we had dinner and went to bed. He kept his hand on my arm again, like the night before.

We slept through the night, awaking the next morning which was his birthday, we got up, got dressed, had breakfast, then went outside to play for a bit, then went in for lunch, watched cartoons, then had dinner, after dinner things went sideways, his mom’s boyfriend started beating him,

“Birthday beatings!” He says.

I hid in Nate’s room, trying not to listen to his screams and cries, when it was over he came to me, I cleaned him up, and hugged him tight.