Concrete Castle

I got dressed and ready for the day, putting on a pair of knee-length jean shorts and a thin white blouse and blow drying my hair, letting it curl a little at the ends. I put on my usual light make up, and sprayed on my perfume.

Walking the five steps to my room, I grabbed my black bag stuffed my wallet in it, slipping on my flip flops. When I came out, John was still sitting on my couch, watching my television. I rolled my eyes. “I'm leaving, which means you are, too.” I grabbed my keys, not really needing them but for the door lock. I would have to walk around today.

“What are you doing?” John asked.

“How about, none of your business?” I retaliated, standing by the door.

“Aw, come on, I thought we really bonded last night.” He whined, and I wasn't sure whether or not he was serious.

“Fine.” I growled, “I'm meeting with Charlie.” I told him.

“Who's Charlie?” He asked curiously, following me out of the door. I turned and locked the bolts, hoping Baylee had her keys. Not that she was going to be coming home anytime soon anyway.

“This kid that I hang out with...” I said.

“Can I come?” He asked.

“It's not your thing.” I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“Charlie is an autistic deaf-mute, you wouldn't be able to talk to him.” I answered. “He only talks through sign language.”

“Then you know sign language? I didn't know that...”

“It's funny how much think you know about me, and you really know nothing.” I lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“Can't you like...interpret for me or something?”

I scoffed, “Why do you want to go so badly?” I asked.

“For one, I want to hang out with you, and two, I've never actually met a deaf person before, it'll be a learning experience.”

“Since when do you want to hang out with me?”

“Since now.”

“And, what makes you think that I want to be around you? I already have to deal with you every other day, Sunday is usually my stress and John O'Callaghan free day.” I complained, walking a little faster, hoping he'd get the point.

“I don't get why you hate me so much, I'm actually a pretty cool guy.”

“You think highly or yourself, don't you?” I scoffed, fixing my hair from my eyes as the wind blew.

“I'm confident, yeah, but is that really any reason to hate me? We've hardly even talked, how can you judge me so thoroughly?”

“Because I've seen enough already.”

“I might surprise you.” He said.

Why he was taking such a big interest, I have no idea. I gave in. “Fine, you can come, but be...mature, or at least try, please. Charlie is the best person I've ever met, okay?”

“Like a saint.” John promised, hand on his heart.

Looking in the parking lot, I saw Baylee's car. “I am an idiot!” I huffed, rushing back into the apartment and getting' Baylee's car keys. “Now we don't have to walk two miles.” I said cheerfully, unlocking her car.

“You're not an idiot...just...forgetful.” John amended, pulling the seat belt over his shoulder after I barked at him to.

“And it means less time alone with you.” I mentioned, starting the car.

“You sure Baylee won't mind if we used her car?”

“Why, John, you're so thoughtful.”

“It's funny how much you think you know about me, but really you know nothing.” John mocked my earlier statement.

“I know tons about you.” I rolled my eyes at him, “You're not hard to figure out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenged.

“Yeah, like...you think you're better than everyone and everything. You won't go to a party unless there is alcohol, you pretty much have a different girl every week, which tells me you're either trying to make up for something, or you don't have any consideration for other people's emotions unless they benefit you.”

“You can't be more wrong on that, Dev.”

“Devon.” I corrected.

“Devon” John rolled his eyes.

“Just like you couldn't be more wrong about me.” I argued.

“You think I don't know you?” John asked.

I nodded, “Give me your best shot.”

“You're impossible, and you always have to be in control, which it really irritating sometimes, and you don't let people in at all. Baylee only knows because you've been friends with her for forever, and even then you don't tell her everything.” John rambled off, before he could say anything else, I cut in.

“That is not true at all! I'm not some mental control freak.” I protested, turning into Charlie's house.

“Sure, whatever you say, Dev.”

“Devon!” I exclaimed, getting out of the car.

I was already fed up with him, which was a waste because I thought maybe we could actually start to get along.

Wishful thinking.

I got to the door and knocked before John slammed his car door, and Charlotte, Charlie's mother opened the door with a smile. “Devon, right on time.” She said warmly, inviting me in. “And, who is this?”

I looked back at John, “It's just a friend, is that okay? Or will Charlie be too freaked out?”

“No, that's totally fine.” Charlotte smiled wide at John.

As we walked back to Charlie's play room, John bumped my shoulder, “You said I was your friend.” He pointed out cheekily.

“I couldn't very well say that I hated your stinking guts, could I? She'd think I was insane.”

“Naw, you like me.”

“I'd like you to get away from me, yeah.” I shot back, entering the playroom. Charlie must have been waiting for me, because he came up to me and gripped me in a tight hug. By the time he noticed John, he was already back over by his red fire engine.

When he asked, I signed back, saying it aloud for John to hear, “This is John O'Callaghan, he's one of my classmates at Arizona State.” I explained to Charlie. See, the deaf did things a little differently than the hearing people. When introducing yourself, you don't just say 'hey, I'm Bill' or whatever. You give your name, first and last, then a brief little biography.

“He says hi and that--” I paused, watching what Charlie was telling me. I was definitely not relaying that to John. “Not at all, Charlie.” I said to him, serious look on my face.

There was no way John and I were boyfriend and girlfriend.

“What did he say?” John asked curiously.

“Don't worry about it John.” I shrugged.

“Whatever. Ask him if he wants to play car with me.”

I gave a small smile and did was John asked.

And, while they played cars, I just watched. They didn't need me, because they simply weren't talking. Back and forth, they made noises, but only for cars and tires. I smiled at the two.

This was a side of John I hadn't seen before, the caring and fun John, and I sort of liked it.

As I sat on the couch, elbows on my knees, resting my chin on my palm, just spacing off. I didn't realize I was staring at John until he locked eyes with me, “What?” He asked.

Startled, I sat up and cleared my throat, “Nothing, I was just...spacing off, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughed slightly. “Don't go falling for me, now. Remember? I'm a terrible person.” He mocked me.

I narrowed my eyes. “Like I would fall for someone like you.”

“Like you would ever give anyone a chance.” He scoffed. I stood up, grabbing my purse.

“Why does it always have to end with you saying something like that, huh? Can you even pretend to be civil with me? Or do I just get under your skin that much?”

“You're the one who always starts it!” John exclaimed. I explained quickly to Charlie that we were leaving and he hugged me. All this yelling wasn't good for him, he was getting upset.

I waited until I was out of the house, John right behind me to comment back, “Because you always make some douche bag remark!”

“It's called a joke!”

“A joke? A joke, John?” I scoffed, laughing in disbelief. “You call mocking me a joke? We're not even friends! You can't do that an expect me to laugh.”

“Right, because you never do.”

I threw my hands up in frustration, turning towards Baylee's car. Even though I was sorely tempted, I didn't drive off without him. Mainly because I wasn't done with him. “You're infuriating. Just because my sides don't split when you are trying to be funny, doesn't mean I never laugh.”

“And you could stand to let someone actually be your friend. The only one you're even a little close to is Baylee. Are you such a coward you find as small a fault as you can just so you have an excuse not to let yourself trust them. Do you even have a reason for it, or are you really just that stuck up?”

That hurt. Tears started in the back of my eyes, even though I didn't want them to. This was John, he wasn't supposed to get to me like this. No one ever has. I stayed silent so my voice didn't crack.

“I'm right, aren't I?” He sounded so assured, triumphant. He knew he wasn't right, we had gone over this before. He just wanted me to admit it. But I wouldn't.

I slowed the car to a stop, “Get out.” I said, my voice losing the feigned confidence and the anger. It was then John decided to look at me, seeing my eyes filled with tears.

“Devon--” He started, almost sounding sympathetic. I didn't buy it.

“I said, get out.” I said stronger this time.

“I'm sorry, Devon, I didn't mean--”

“Yes, you did.”

“Ple--”

“Get out of the car!” I yelled. Giving up, he opened the door and climbed out. Before the door was even all the way shut, I sped off, tears starting on my cheeks.

God, I hated crying. There was no point in it. Not to mention John saw.

But I couldn't keep them back. With just three weeks until it was seven years since it happened, it usually happened like this.

About a month or so before the anniversary, I would spend my nights remembering, sometimes sobbing. I told myself the other eleven months out of the year that I had gotten over it, but truth is I never have, and mostly likely never will.

When I unlocked the door to the apartment and stumbled in, Baylee still wasn't home. I was glad. She didn't need to see me like this. I went into my room, shutting the door and leaning up against it. Slowly, I sunk down to the floor, running my hands through my hair.

I didn't want to close my eyes. I would only see the terrible images, feel the pain. Hear his words.

But I saw them anyway.

I walked through the hallway, having been woken up by the sound of screams, my mother's screams. They were coming from their room, so I just figured she was having nightmares, like I had sometimes.

“Mom?” I called, voice small and kid like. And that's when I saw the blood. Everywhere. “Mommy?” There was silence. I don't know why I was calling her 'mommy' I hadn't done that in a while. But, I felt a little scared.

“Run!” She screamed, though I couldn't. Not when I saw him.

It wasn't my father, it couldn't have been. My dad was shy, quiet, and most of all...nice. The man who towered over me at that moment was confident, self-assured, and most of all...menacing.

“Dad?” I cried, tears filling my eyes.

And then pain shot through my body, a horrible imposing pain that I almost couldn't stand. And I was screaming, I was screaming loud, over the sirens that were sounding. “Daddy, stop!” I pleaded, blood snot and tears all over me.

His blue eyes seemed to flash red as he pushed the knife into me again, “Stop!” I pleaded. “Where's mommy?” I sobbed.

“She's gone, Devon, you were too late.”

I screamed myself hoarse, bleeding and pleading.

And then it all went black, the screaming echoing in my head.

“Devon! Wake up!” I felt someone shaking me as I came to.

“Get away from me!” I shoved, finally focusing on Baylee, on her butt in front of me since my push had made her fall. “Oh, god, Bay, I'm so sorry.” I apologized, getting to my knees.

“It's okay, Dev.” She whispered, looking up at Kennedy. He was there too? Oh god. “It's been almost seven years, hasn't it?” She held my shoulders, looking into my eyes. I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice.

“Dev, it's okay...it's alright.” She tried to comfort, pulling me into her arms.

I pulled away almost immediately, standing up. “No, it's really not.” I mumbled, brushing passed Kennedy as I walked out of my room.

In the bathroom, I peeled off my clothes, soaked in a cold sweat, and looked at myself in the mirror. The scars were still there, but nobody asked about them anymore. Turning and straining, I saw the short and raised remnants of the puncture wounds lining my back.

Ugly reminders marring milky skin.