Troubled Thoughts and the Self-Esteem to Match

Gabe

I skipped dinner all-together. I had a feeling that everyone probably knew about the incident that took place earlier, between Bill and I. I didn't care for their scornful stares, so I stayed and took a shower instead. By the time I decided I'd stood under the near scalding water for long enough and got dressed, they were all back. No avoiding them now, I guessed.
The walk down the hall was slow, lacking enthusiasm because I knew something less than pleasant was in the near future. Mr.Way's office door was closed, meaning someone was inside with him; probably William, the pathetic dickhead. I didn't even want to think of him at the moment considering how pissed off at him I was.
I growled at the thought, passing the Meeting room, which may have been empty or not, but I didn't care to stop long enough to check. The television wasn't on in the living room, so I thought that no one was inside.
I was relieved to think of kicking back to watch some mind numbing tv, but the thought drizzled to the back of my head upon walking through the doorway.
Dirty blond hair moved to reveal Danny's face, set into an out of place scowl that was directed toward me.
Great. I thought, stopping short in front of the archway to cross my arms over my chest and wait for the inevitable explosion.

He saw this and immediately cut to the chase. "You're a fucking asshole." He snapped, his normally peaceful eyes canceled out, instead, with disgust.
"Oh great. Now Mr.perfect is gonna rag on me too?" I retorted instantly, the words just flowing off my tongue; it was like I was dipping into my 'snappy comebacks' arsenal tenfold today. The response didn't set with him and in a flash, he was standing directly before me. His fist hammered into my jaw like a wrecking ball, knocking me back with enough force that I hit the wall to balance myself.
It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. My vision blanked out for a moment, and when it returned, I was seeing red.

"What the fuck?!" I yelled back, searching for a comeback but unable to form a coherent one with how shocked I was that he actually hit me.
"Do you not realize how low that was of you?!" He bellowed in my face, and I pushed him back several inches to distance the two of us as I responded with something as lame as "Stay out of it!"
Another response that he didn't like.
"No I won't stay out of it! You made fun of him for being fucking raped!" The intensity that he belted these words into my face amazed me, because I didn't see how everyone else hadn't heard the commotion yet.
"I did not!" I roared back in just as loud of a voice, though I could say with much pride that at least I didn't have a lisp to make me sound less intimidating.

"Yes you did! Think about it, Dumbass!" I was ready to beat him to the damn ground now; I wasn't accustomed to letting people just scream at me like he was doing, no matter who it was.
"Whatever. Fuck off." I seethed, blind fury overpowering me so much that I couldn't even think, thus clouding my speech.
"Yeah, says the dickhead." He dared to chide, his ample fists pumping in anticipation for another blow.
I didn't think about my actions; my fist hooked him in the mouth and nose, a small but noticeable crack emanating from somewhere on his face. He stumbled back a step, but recovered quickly to wipe at the first trickle of red that spilled from nose.
I shivered at the sight of blood, my stomach flipping along with the end of the shutter.
He didn't seemed shocked so much as irate at the strike. a small vein-like thread of crimson snaked from his nose, passing his lips and heading for his chin.

"You're a fucking piece of shit. I hope Bill never talks to you again." The tone of coldness to his already deep voice was more chilling than the weather outside, but his words forced a scoff from deep within my chest.
"Ooh, that's so gonna kill me." I laughed back caustically, my fingers itching to wrap around his throat after all of this bullshit.
"Quit trying to hide it; It's kind of obvious that you're infatuated with him! Why else would you throw such a hissy-fit over him having someone else?"
I opened my mouth to come back with some sort of counter statement, but all of my words clamped onto my tongue, unsure of what exactly I was even supposed to say to such an accusation.

"Why don't you at least go find him and apologize before he does something stupid?" The instruction was forced out with dry words as he blew small red bubbles from his mouth, trying to spit the coppery taste out.
I turned and literally stormed from the room at these words. Who the hell was he coming at me when he didn't even know the whole story?! For all I knew, Bill could have told him the biggest load of bullshit in the world, and he wouldn't even know.
I dodged out the block door as well, the cold almost killing me in my condition. My hair was still matted to my forehead with moisture from my shower, I had no jacket or shoes on, and the snow was like dry ice against my heels out here. I almost dropped the cigarettes as I tore them from my back pocket, jerking one from the packet to cram between my tightly set lips, cupping a hand over it to shield it from the breeze as I lit it.
The smoke cascaded from the glowing tip and toward the foreboding, starless night sky before the taste glided over my taste-buds, acrid and harsh, but it calmed my jumbled nerves.
I inhaled as much as my lungs could possibly hold as the calm wracked me, easing my adamant muscles.
I was pissed off at not only Danny and Bill, but myself as well. I punched Danny in the face; I harmed another person I cared about, just because my stupid anger got the best of me.
"Who am I kidding?" I whispered to seemingly no one other than the snow. "Yo soy como mi padrastro."
The thought of being like that thing sent a violent spasm throughout my chest, doubling me over as I gagged, almost puking everywhere.
I jerked a second cigarette from the package and lit it, inhaling another lungful. I calmed a bit more, asking myself what the hell I was supposed to do now?

Everyone was probably mad at me, and if they weren't yet, they would be after my fight with Danny.
I leaned against the block's wall as the numbness of my feet began creeping up my legs, leaving me on unsteady ground.
I finished my second cig. and was tempted to go for a third, but forced myself not to. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was in the wrong. Big time.
I shouldn't have, by any means, snapped at William like I did. I couldn't believe some of the shit I said to him.
'When he rapes you too, don't come crying to me. See if I fucking give a shit.' Why the hell did I even say that in the first place?
I sighed loudly as I rubbed my palms up my forearms, knowing that if I was going to be doing any apologizing, it would have to start now.

I slunk back into the house with as little noise as possible, tip-toeing past the Living room. Danny wasn't in it any more, but the lights were on in the Meeting room, so I ran past it and down the hall until I was closing in on my door.
The lights were off, so I instantly wondered if William really was the one in Mr.Way's office. I pushed the door open, but stopped short.
As the large metal door swung invertedly into the room, the light from the hall dimly illuminated parts of the room, slowly revealing a sight of horror for my eyes.
William was in fact in the room, but he was accompanied by a small, sharp knife clutched tightly in his left hand.

His eyes shot up to me, tear sopped. Upon realizing he was caught, a piteous sob left his down-turned lips, he cradling the knife to his chest with slippery, red coated fingers.
I nearly tripped over the door as I swung it closed, not having the slightest clue as to why I shut it to close myself in with such a terrifying sight.
"What are you doing?!" I attempted to scream, but it sounded nothing like my own voice; I sounded just as horror-stricken as I was, and the quiver in my voice alerted this one hundred percent.
I shot across the floor and dove onto the mattress before him, faltering because I was unable to process what I was supposed to do in such a feverish situation.
The color drained from my face as I pulled his arms away from his shirt, examining the damage to his already minced arms.

He grew more distressed in my presence, trying to pull his arms back to himself, but I held fast, unable to move my eyes from the new gashes.
There were more than seven just on one arm, and they drew fairly deep, blood gurgling from the openings freely, dousing his whole arms.
My fingers slid as they closed in around his tiny, slippery wrists. "What did you do?" I questioned again, unable to raise my voice in over a hoarse whisper.

"I'm-..Gabe.." He choked on his own winded gasps, irregular from crying, hiccuping uncontrollably. "Gabe, I'm S-sorry. Please don't be mad at me anym-more." He fought so hard just to say this, and it broke my heart into dangerously sharp slivers that cut me like his arms.
"No. no, no no." I rambled like a machine on auto-pilot.
He was really sitting in front of me with lacerations on his arms, all because of me.
"I didn't m-mean to make y-you mad." He wailed, burying his face in red-stained hands possibly in shame or something close to it.

"Guillermo." It was only when I uttered his name that the emotions really set in, and a distinct prickle jabbed at my eyes, followed by the immobile lump forming in my throat that completely blocked my airways.
"I'm sorry." He reiterated again, pushing me further into the guilt realm.
I chose to ignore the hot tears that made their way down my face, just as I chose to ignore the blood on my hands and on him.
My arms moved to his small shoulders, slowly pulling him against me so that I could crush him into a hug, able to feel his erratic heartbeat against my shoulder, and the silent sobs that were still bounding through his frame.
I pulled the knife from his grip and tossed it across the room, my palms taking inventory of the vulnerable slump to his body leaned against me.
"I'm sorry, Guillermo." I could only muster a ghost whisper against his ear as I rocked the two of us in an almost unnoticeable manner, but it did nothing to lighten the situation.
I could feel the blood more than anything else, and my finger dipping into the slight plunges on the inside of his wrist, where the blade pressed down in the skin.

"I'm sorry. I'm fucking horrible." I wasn't even sure if this statement left my mind or not, but his arms reluctantly curled around me in return. "Do you hate me now?" He implored, daring a look straight in my eyes. I couldn't stand it.
There was so much pain evident in his eyes, I felt like jumping off a cliff and killing myself in return.
"No. Of course not." I pulled his head carefully back to rest against my shoulder, unable to stand looking into such saddened eyes, which were caused by me.
"Why did you have to do this to yourself?" I queried as I bussed my chin against his forehead and used my shirt-tail to clear his face of both crimson and clear stains.
"I'm sorry. I really am." He stressed, trying to grasp my arm, but failing with the motion I had it set into.
"I didn't mean to do it...It just happened." He added quietly, nestling against me. It was awkward, but I held him in a vice grip, realizing that maybe, if I wouldn't have found him when I did, the cuts might have been deeper, dangerously deep.
"We need to get you to Mr.Way." I began to stand, and pull him up with me, but he refused.
"I just want to stay here for a little bit. P-puh-lease?" I couldn't say no to him after what I caused in him. It was just wrong.
The gashes weren't deep enough to hurt him too terribly anyways, and the blood almost completely stopped by now.
I pulled him back until we were lying flat, not daring to move from the position.

"How can I ever make this up to you?" I pleaded, the thick, coppery aroma in the room sickening me.
"Don't move for now." He sniffled, his eyes scrutinizing his arms, and how bad the healing process might be. I made a mental agenda to do anything and everything to pay him back for all this, until my guilt settled down enough that I could function with myself.
"We're going to Mr.Way in a little bit, so don't get too comfortable." I warned him, fighting the urge to both puke, and run away.