When It Hurts
Parts 1-5
Part One
He hurt. He feel broken and dirty. He wanted to crawl in a hole and die. He wanted to slit his wrists. He wanted to run. He wanted to take as many pills as his throat would swallow. He wanted to throw a brick at the reflection he was in the mirror.
He wanted to brush his teeth until they fell out. He wanted to wash his tongue until it bled. He wanted to wash his face until it was raw.
He wanted it all to go away.
He didn't know him. And he didn't want to. He saw a face his didn't recognize. A last name he didn't know.
And he had wanted to remember his first time with a smile.
He shouldn't have wanted to die.
And what was he going to tell Mike? What was he going to say?
'I'm a whore. Please don't hate me.'
He could picture blue eyes turning away from him forever.
He could picture his broken smile.
He knew it wasn't the end of the world.
But it sure felt like it.
Part Two
It seems like a dream now, my sin. It feels like I'm going to fall apart, spend the rest of my life going through emotions.
I pull on clothes, getting ready for school. I want to skip but at the same time I want to see Mike. I want him to hold me even though I know he's going to hate me.
I feel like there should be mark on my face.
I still feel my face stinging where it slipped out of my mouth, spilling onto my skin. I still fear my tear stains and the tears now prickling my eyes. My throat still hurts. My eyes are burning with the image. I want to peel my skin off and rip my eyes out.
Instead I walk to the bathroom, shove my fingers down my throat, and vomit into the bowl. It tasted better coming up and I didn't think that was possible.
My mother knocks on the door. "Billie?" Her voice is concerned and I feel even more dirty. I don't deserve concern. "Are you sick?"
"Just a cough." I answer. I don't want her to keep me home from school. I need to hide myself in the mass of nameless faces.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Mom."
After she's gone I unlock the door and open the bathroom window, slipping out and making sure it closes. I don't want them to see me. Especially Mom. She always seems to know.
I walk to school, letting the December wind bite at my face.
At least it's helping to blow away the sin.
Part Three
Mike knows. He knows the instant he sees me. He stands next to me at my locker and I feel my bottom lip tremble. I don't want it to. I hate crying in front of anyone, but especially in front of Mike.
"What's wrong?" he asks, blue eyes concerned.
And that does it. The tears spill out of my eyes and I start sobbing, much to the interest of everyone in the hallway. But Mike just puts his arm around me and starts leading me away from them, not caring about taunting insults and snickers.
Most guys would brag about this, even if it was with a guy. But I just wish I could find a time machine and wish myself back to birth and force the doctor to drop me on the floor.
He leads me outside until we're standing on the curb, near the fence. And he pulls me into a tight hug. I don't want him to touch me because I'm so dirty and covered in sin but I can't help it. I bring my arms up around him.
"Billie, what's wrong?" Mike whispers.
I'm going to lie. Make something up. Instead the truth comes tumbling from my lips.
"I'm a fucking slut."
Part Four
Mike pulls away, looking confused like he doesn't understand. "Billie, man, you're going to have to explain that one."
I'm only thirteen. I shouldn't have done it. Kids aren't supposed to do things like that.
I gulp nervously, wiping at my face with the palm of my hand. "I went to Gilman's last night. We started talkin' and then he said he had some beer at his place so I got in his car and went with him." I took a deep breath. "And we started . . ." My voice cracks and I'm sobbing again.
Mike pulls me into another hug, kissing my temple. "Billie . . . did you do something with him?"
I nod into his shoulder.
"Did you have sex with him?" he asks softly.
I shake my head. "No." I whisper. "I . . . I sucked him off. And he kept pushing on the back of my head and when he came I gagged and he made fun of me for it. And then he drove me home and kissed me and called me a pretty slut when I got out of the car."
"Oh, Billie."
Part Five
Mike held me tighter. I could feel his breath in my ear. "You didn't really want to, did you?"
"I feel so dirty." I whispered. "Like I'll never get clean."
"You will." Mike said. "I promise."
"No, I won't." I shake my head stubbornly, but Mike pulls away slightly.
He stares deep into my eyes. "I've felt the same way, Billie Joe. Dirty. Wanting to puke it all out, break my reflection. Die." He kisses my forehead. "My dad . . . he used to touch me. It's why I went to live with my mom. And I felt so guilty. Because I never said no. I didn't say anything. I just . . . I let him."
"But . . . he didn't make me." I whisper. Then I pull Mike into a tighter hug. "I'm sorry he hurt you."
"I know." Mike said simply. He gave a weak smile. "Fuck school. Let's skip. You deserve a break."
"I want to forget. I can't forget if it's quiet."
Mike's silent for a moment, then he nods. "All right. Let's go to school."
He hurt. He feel broken and dirty. He wanted to crawl in a hole and die. He wanted to slit his wrists. He wanted to run. He wanted to take as many pills as his throat would swallow. He wanted to throw a brick at the reflection he was in the mirror.
He wanted to brush his teeth until they fell out. He wanted to wash his tongue until it bled. He wanted to wash his face until it was raw.
He wanted it all to go away.
He didn't know him. And he didn't want to. He saw a face his didn't recognize. A last name he didn't know.
And he had wanted to remember his first time with a smile.
He shouldn't have wanted to die.
And what was he going to tell Mike? What was he going to say?
'I'm a whore. Please don't hate me.'
He could picture blue eyes turning away from him forever.
He could picture his broken smile.
He knew it wasn't the end of the world.
But it sure felt like it.
Part Two
It seems like a dream now, my sin. It feels like I'm going to fall apart, spend the rest of my life going through emotions.
I pull on clothes, getting ready for school. I want to skip but at the same time I want to see Mike. I want him to hold me even though I know he's going to hate me.
I feel like there should be mark on my face.
I still feel my face stinging where it slipped out of my mouth, spilling onto my skin. I still fear my tear stains and the tears now prickling my eyes. My throat still hurts. My eyes are burning with the image. I want to peel my skin off and rip my eyes out.
Instead I walk to the bathroom, shove my fingers down my throat, and vomit into the bowl. It tasted better coming up and I didn't think that was possible.
My mother knocks on the door. "Billie?" Her voice is concerned and I feel even more dirty. I don't deserve concern. "Are you sick?"
"Just a cough." I answer. I don't want her to keep me home from school. I need to hide myself in the mass of nameless faces.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Mom."
After she's gone I unlock the door and open the bathroom window, slipping out and making sure it closes. I don't want them to see me. Especially Mom. She always seems to know.
I walk to school, letting the December wind bite at my face.
At least it's helping to blow away the sin.
Part Three
Mike knows. He knows the instant he sees me. He stands next to me at my locker and I feel my bottom lip tremble. I don't want it to. I hate crying in front of anyone, but especially in front of Mike.
"What's wrong?" he asks, blue eyes concerned.
And that does it. The tears spill out of my eyes and I start sobbing, much to the interest of everyone in the hallway. But Mike just puts his arm around me and starts leading me away from them, not caring about taunting insults and snickers.
Most guys would brag about this, even if it was with a guy. But I just wish I could find a time machine and wish myself back to birth and force the doctor to drop me on the floor.
He leads me outside until we're standing on the curb, near the fence. And he pulls me into a tight hug. I don't want him to touch me because I'm so dirty and covered in sin but I can't help it. I bring my arms up around him.
"Billie, what's wrong?" Mike whispers.
I'm going to lie. Make something up. Instead the truth comes tumbling from my lips.
"I'm a fucking slut."
Part Four
Mike pulls away, looking confused like he doesn't understand. "Billie, man, you're going to have to explain that one."
I'm only thirteen. I shouldn't have done it. Kids aren't supposed to do things like that.
I gulp nervously, wiping at my face with the palm of my hand. "I went to Gilman's last night. We started talkin' and then he said he had some beer at his place so I got in his car and went with him." I took a deep breath. "And we started . . ." My voice cracks and I'm sobbing again.
Mike pulls me into another hug, kissing my temple. "Billie . . . did you do something with him?"
I nod into his shoulder.
"Did you have sex with him?" he asks softly.
I shake my head. "No." I whisper. "I . . . I sucked him off. And he kept pushing on the back of my head and when he came I gagged and he made fun of me for it. And then he drove me home and kissed me and called me a pretty slut when I got out of the car."
"Oh, Billie."
Part Five
Mike held me tighter. I could feel his breath in my ear. "You didn't really want to, did you?"
"I feel so dirty." I whispered. "Like I'll never get clean."
"You will." Mike said. "I promise."
"No, I won't." I shake my head stubbornly, but Mike pulls away slightly.
He stares deep into my eyes. "I've felt the same way, Billie Joe. Dirty. Wanting to puke it all out, break my reflection. Die." He kisses my forehead. "My dad . . . he used to touch me. It's why I went to live with my mom. And I felt so guilty. Because I never said no. I didn't say anything. I just . . . I let him."
"But . . . he didn't make me." I whisper. Then I pull Mike into a tighter hug. "I'm sorry he hurt you."
"I know." Mike said simply. He gave a weak smile. "Fuck school. Let's skip. You deserve a break."
"I want to forget. I can't forget if it's quiet."
Mike's silent for a moment, then he nods. "All right. Let's go to school."