| work in progress 9__9 |
[20 Mar 2008|11:00pm] |
I loved him. I know it was stupid, ridiculous, the lengths I'd go to for him. But I loved him all the same.
And that was my first mistake.
It was a Thursday afternoon, and I was sitting silent in my car with a joint. Brian Molko was wailing about how it falls apart, and the sun was blinding me. In ten minutes Saku would get out of class, and then we'd probably go home and get stoned. The routine was beautiful.
Saku's name wasn't really Saku; just as mine wasn't really Twelve. The reality was; his name was James and mine Mark, and we were just high school kids. We were also outcasts. Not that that was so unusual, those days. Hardly anyone 'fit in' anymore; nonconformity was now a trend that teenagers ate up. But no, we weren't following the trend, Saku and I.
He was beautiful. Beautiful as he climbed into the passenger seat of my '83 Citation. Saku fumbled with the CD case, reaching up to push a dyed blonde chunk of hair from his eyes. "I fucking hate this band."
"They're not so bad."
"Here, this is better." Jack Off Jill. His adoration for this band was legend; and his hardon for Jessicka horribly obvious. Saku flopped back in his seat, booted feet going on the dashboard. He looked over at me with bright blue eyes, lined clumsily with black eyeliner. "Johnson's fucking class, I swear." He muttered.
"You should have skipped with me." I said, starting the car.
"Yeah, well, there was a test. I kind of need the grades." Saku said, letting his shoulder-length black hair down from its ponytail. He tossed his backpack into the back seat, and sighed. "Take me home."
"You don't want to hang out?" I asked him, frowning. What about the routine? This was utterly unheard of.
"Nah, I just want to sleep." He told me, and looked out the window.
"Whatever." I said with a shrug, and pulled out of the parking lot.
The car ride was quiet. Too quiet. The music was loud, and Saku sang along as off-key as ever, but he wouldn't speak to me. The tension could have been cut with a knife, but I didn't say anything about it. It wasn't my place to bother him right now. I pulled into the Sage family driveway, and looked over at him expectantly. He climbed out, and peered in the window at me.
"I'll call you tonight."
"Alright. Talk to you then." I said, shaking my head before pulling out.
Jessicka was now screaming, screaming at me that she would never make it better, that it would always hurt. I couldn't take it right now, and turned off the radio. My place was a couple blocks down, so I cruised Saku's street. He was acting off, and it bothered me. Something fierce. I pulled into my own driveway and gathered my things, heading on inside.
Nobody home. Not that this was unusual. Mom was probably sealing a deal on a house; Dad was in Baltimore on business. Sarah had volleyball practice. And I had a date with Robert Smith.
Just like any other night, really. I lay on my bed with Disintegration on repeat. I could listen to this for days, months, years. Forever. On each loop through the album, my heart swelled at Lovesong. I dedicated this to him. He didn't know it, he wouldn't know it, but I did. Saku. He made everything complete. He made me feel like I could breathe.
However far away, I will always love you.
I was startled out of my daze by the phone ringing beside me. I caught a blurred glimpse of the clock beside it, 9:26. I'd been lying there for almost five and a half hours. "Yeah?"
"Come get me."
I paused. It took a minute for me to register the voice. "...you okay?" I asked. Saku had been crying.
"Just come fucking get me."
"Alright, fine. I'll be there soon, calm down."
"Don't you fucking tell me to calm down. You don't know how this is." He snapped at me, and then all I heard was dialtone.
Whatever.
I grabbed my keys and dragged myself out of my bedroom, shielding my eyes from the light of the kitchen. My mother was at the table and I managed a wave to her before leaving. She never asked where I went, anymore. She probably knew already, anyway. I wasn't too concerned.
The drive to Saku's place was cold. Silent. I turned on the radio, but every song I stopped on just grated my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. I switched it off with a sigh, and looked toward Saku's front door. ...nothing. I honked once, and leaned on the steering wheel. The door opened a moment later, and Saku stumbled out.
He was bleeding. His face. I couldn't tell where, thanks to the distance, but it was there. So was his father, in the doorway. Henry Sage wasn't known to be the best father. He was not the most caring. He was certainly not the most accepting--of ANYTHING. Saku came home with his ears pierced in ninth grade and his father backhanded him for it. I could only imagine what imagined injustice Saku had committed.
"Stay the FUCK out of my house!" Henry bellowed. "If I find out you did ANYTHING to those kids, I'll find you and fucking blow your brains out, you freak!" And then he caught sight of me in my car, and seemed to snap. He wasn't particularly fond of me, and wasn't exactly afraid to voice that opinion. "Oh, yeah, that's right, James. Go run off with your faggot boyfriend. I know where he lives."
Now, this is where the scene becomes a little hazy. Because I swear to god, Saku stomped back up to his father and punched him in the jaw. But this was Saku, who never stood up to the man, ever. It was impossible that he would physically HARM his father.
On the other hand, Henry did need a REASON to be bleeding from the lip, and Saku punching him did really seem to be a good explanation. It also explained why he punched the kid back. That was where I got out, where I got involved.
"James. James stop it." I said, standing between Saku and his hulking behemoth of a father. Where Saku got his looks, I'll never know. "It's not worth it. I'm taking him with me, Henry. I don't know what he did, but regardless it gives you no licence to beat the piss out of him." I was eerily calm about the entire predicament.
"Get him out of my fucking face. I see that fucking nancy boy faggot again, I'm killing him."
Harsh. I scowled and led Saku to my car. Opened the door for him and everything. It was like some kind of perverse date, christ. I got in myself, and glanced over as I started the car. "So?"
"So what?"
"...what did you do?" I asked, starting home.
"...he found my notebooks." Saku said, looking quite distant as he stared out the window. I hoped he didn't have a concussion or something. Fuck. "You know the ones."
"...yeah." I said, and that was that. I did know the ones. Saku wanted to be a writer. He filled notebook upon notebook with lurid, pain-filled prose; the least controversial of which were the sex stories. So my best friend wrote gay porn in study hall. Obviously, I didn't care.
My mother was asleep when we got home. All the better, really. I got Saku situated in my bed, and sat on the foot of it. "...so you're not going to be able to go back. All over fucking notebooks."
"Yeah. He thinks I'm some kind of deviant. Guess he's not wrong." Saku put a hand over his eyes. "But he thinks I like...touched my brothers. That's fucked up, right there. I'm not that sick in the head.
"Not yet." I joked. ...apparently not the time. Saku didn't even crack a smile. "Look, it'll be fine. You can crash here. Not like my parents will mind."
I didn't get an answer from him for ten minutes. Ten agonizing minutes. God in heaven.
"It won't be fine. He's right. I'm sick." Saku sat up.
"Oh, don't start that bullshit." I said, shoving a hand between my mattress and box springs for a ziploc baggie. "Let's smoke this, take your mind off it, and watch a movie. Come on. It'll be good for you."
It took a minimal amount of coaxing, but I finally managed to get Saku to chill out. We sat on my bed watching Evil Dead, passing the joint back and forth. We didn't need to talk. Just being with each other calmed both our nerves. At least, that's what I thought.
"I want to die." Saku announced, after we'd finished smoking.
"You're going to die. Everyone's going to die. Don't rush it." I said, flopping back on the bed. "You still got like, seventy years on you."
"Yeah, but I'm miserable."
"Everyone's miserable, Saku. I hate it here. If it were up to me, I'd die tomorrow, just so I wouldn't have to put up with all the bullshit anymore. But it's not up to me." I closed my eyes. "You don't get a choice. Offing yourself is for pussies."
"I guess." He said, his back to me. I stared at him. "I want you to take all my notebooks and keep them somewhere safe, okay?"
"Why don't you do it yourself?" I asked.
"I'm giving them to you, alright? Fucking do it." Saku said, his voice wavering a moment. And then there was that cursed silence again. "....Mark?"
"Twelve. I hate that name." I said with a small grumble. Christ.
"Twelve. I love you."
I sat up, startled. That easily? That brat just said what I'd been so conflicted about for years, just like that? I grabbed his shoulder, turning him toward me. "You wha--"
He was bleeding again.
From his wrist.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted at him, probably scaring the poor kid to death. An unfunny turn of phrase, concidering what he'd been doing to himself, but it was true. I probably almost scared him to death. "Stupid! Don't do this, everything's cool! Promise, you're going to be fine!"
"...You can't be sure of that." Saku mumbled as I started wrapping his wrist with a torn piece of shirt.
"Yeah, well, you can't be positive that the rest of your life is going to suck, either." I sighed and lay down again, pulling him with me. Holding him, for once. Funny how everything felt right at that moment. "...come on. Lie down and get some sleep. Everything will be okay in the morning, Saku. I promise."
When you're a teenager, that's about all you can do. Lie down, get some sleep, and tell yourself everything will be okay in the morning. What can I say? Everybody lies. They're just not always aware that they do.
Just the case for me, that morning. How was I supposed to know? How was I supposed to know the magnitude of this lie?
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