Slightly Bruised and Broken From Our Head on Collision

We wait in a too bright room and my head spins as I try to find a coffee machine. They said that it’s a good thing we brought him here. If we left it his broken ribs wouldn’t have healed. They said it was a good thing he was here; they could sort out the infection in the cuts up his back. It was good he was brought here they said, otherwise they couldn’t of sorted out the gash on his inside leg. It was good. The bright lights were good. The stinging smell of disinfectant was good. It was good.

When they finally let us in to see Alex he had gauze over his forehead, a nose cast and little stitches in his lip. And that was the parts of him I could see.

“How did you even manage it Hun?” Alex blinked slowly, like it physically hurt him to do so. It probably does. A tear squeezes its way out of the swollen slit that was his eye. He addressed Jack when he spoke and he spoke quietly.

“It was Kyle again. I never should have trusted him, I was going to get a drink but I didn’t get him one. He said I was talking to too many other guys, he was getting jealous. Then this guy asked me to dance with him.” A small smile covers his face before slipping off. “The guy was really cute, called Taylor I think, so I said yes. But then Kyle came and found me and asked me to come see him in the garden. And then-“ He cuts himself off with a choked sob. I sink slowly into the ugly green chair next to the bed. Alex tries again.

“And then he raped me. He locked me into the garden shed with him and I couldn’t get out. After he was done he beat me up and left me where you found me.” Suddenly Alex looks up at me emotionless, and shakes his head slightly.

“I’m sorry. I messed up, you told me not to and I just...” I try to interrupt but he carries on. “I thought that I was the one who had judged him too fast. I thought I was the one being harsh. I thought maybe,” he laughs slightly. “I thought maybe I was over-reacting.” Alex looked down at his chest, covered in scratches and stitches and frowns at them. “I thought that I was too weak, so it was my fault.” I let the tears fall down my cheeks but don’t interrupt this time. “I thought that if I just do what he said, you know.” he looks up at me desperately. “Just let him do what he wants. Then I could do it. Have a relationship. Be normal. Get over my past. Move on.” He looks back down at his hands and whispers the last words. “I thought it would make me strong.” And that’s when he starts crying in earnest.

By the time the hospital let him go it had been about 3 days. The infection in his back gave them complications and his ribs weren’t healing as well as they had hoped. But they said he was fine to leave now. They said he was fine.

On the trip home no-one said anything. Jack turned up the radio up slightly so even if we would have wanted to talk we couldn’t. I was sort of grateful.

...when everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive. And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’ll understand. When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am...

When we pulled up outside of Jack’s house, Alex looked sort of disappointed. As if he was hoping Kyle would turn up and apologise for what he did or something. I felt sorry for him; I knew what it was like to wait for something that was never going to happen. We helped Alex inside, his ankle still giving him trouble and let him get comfortable on the couch.

“Err, Alex Hun, I think you should go to the police about this. They have evidence you know...” I gesture at his face and body. “Everywhere.” Alex grimaces as he slides himself into an upright position and nods. Jack looks kind of flustered and runs to get the phone. I smile softly at Alex and rub his hand, careful to avoid his bruised knuckle.

Jack runs back in with the phone, and Alex stares at the phone.

“Who do I ring?” I grab my bag from the floor and rummage through it. I find the leaflet that the teacher gave me and hand it to Alex. He raises an eyebrow and I explain.

“A teacher gave it to me after Jack burst in on us in that class. He thought Jack was violent so he was like yeah take this.” I was paraphrasing but it was close enough to the truth to make Alex believe me and start dialling. Just before he pressed the green button he took a deep breath and looked up at me. I nodded slightly and he pressed it.

A phone conversation later there was a knock on the door. Jack gets up and lets the police in. Alex looks scared but stays put. I hope to God that this goes Alex’s way. Two police people walk in. One short dark haired female and one tall blonde male, they both seem friendly enough but Alex still looks uncomfortable.

“Can we ask you some questions about the attack Alex?” the female asks. Alex nods.

Police: “How long ago was the attack?”
Alex: “Three days ago.” Alex’s eyes are closed.
Police: “Were there any witnesses?”
Alex: “Not that I know of.”
Police: “Unfortunately that means that it will be difficult to prove, although not impossible, a lot more difficult.”
Alex: “Oh.”
Police: “Don’t worry about it for now. Would you be willing for us to do tests to check for rape?”
Alex: *nods*
Police: “Okay thank you Alex that will make it a lot easier for us.” *a pause for breath* “what is the attackers full name if you know it?”
Alex: *deep breath* “Kyle Caleb Burns.”
Police: “Thank you, one last thing before we go, if you are comfortable to let us, please could we see the damage that the attacker inflicted on you?”
Alex: “okay.”

That’s when I saw Alex at his most broken. He pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans. He let the police take in the inflamed scratches up his back, the swollen ankle, the cuts up the back of his neck, the bruising all over his upper arms in the shape of fingers. He slowly turns around and lets the police see the worst of it. I watch the male policepersons face as Alex turns and see the shock there. Even people that see this type of thing every day are shocked.

Alex lets the police people take in the bandages over his ribs and forehead, the gashes that look like they were made with a knife up his inner left leg and far left calf, the bruising all over his right foot and ankle, the cuts all over his face, the stitches in his lip and eyebrow. He lets them look him over for a good minute or two before they let him cover up again. By the time they let him he is almost shivering from the cold and self consciousness. When they finally leave Alex turns to me and, for the first time in a long time, gives me a shaky smile.

It’s been a month now. The police have been trying there hardest to get somewhere, but it looks like they are going to have to go to court with it. Alex is terrified, but is slowly learning to trust people again. For a week after the hospital he refused to even leave the house. Two weeks later he went back to school, and was surprised when every single person accepted him. Three weeks later he met up with a boy named Taylor who he danced with at the party and when he came home he was grinning. This week will be the fourth week Alex and I have been living in Jack’s house, and the fourth week that my parents don’t care. Alex’s mum and dad come and visit him every Saturday and Wednesday, and they act like I’m their daughter. I’m finally starting to fit in and Jack and I are stronger than ever.