Should Have Known

Ryan and I had been friends for years and I never knew. I should have known. I failed him. I wonder if this would have happened…if things would have turned out this way…if anyone said something about it earlier. Would we be standing here today on this grave surrounded by crying people? Would that secret sprout secrets or would it have been stopped in its tracks? Would Ryan be better off?

How did nobody notice? How did I never notice? We were best friends. How many times had I been over Ryan’s house and failed to notice anything out of the ordinary? How many times did I just believe the things Ryan told me without question? How many times could I have stopped this? How many things could I have done differently?

There were signs. Of course there were. There are always signs but signs can get so easily ignored. Looking back now it all makes sense. There’s the sickening realization that makes me want to throw up. I should have known.

I’d see the bruises on Ryan’s perfect pale skin. There were a million excuses. Ryan was so good at lying. He’d say he accidentally fell or bumped into something. He’d say he must have gotten the bruise playing basketball. And some days he wouldn’t even change in front of me in the locker room. He’d change in the bathroom stall but I thought Ryan was just self conscious of his skinny frame.

I’d found Ryan crying alone but he always laughed it off. He’d wipe away his tears on the sleeve of his hoodie. He’d say he had a nightmare when he slept over at my house. He’d say he got something in his eye or he felt bad about getting a bad grade on a test. I teased him about being sensitive and would invite him over for some ice cream to cheer him up. Sometimes he had excuses for why he couldn’t hang out. He’d say his dad was strict and no one would doubt that. Other times he’d come to my house and he never wanted to leave. He never wanted to go home and now I know why. But it’s too late.

I missed all of the little things. I missed the way he would flinch away from his father when he would touch him. I missed the way Ryan always seemed panicked and nervous and so on edge like he was going to fly away at any second. I missed how jumpy he was. I missed the way he was constantly looking at his dad with wide eyes full of fear. I missed the way his dad looked at him. I missed the tone of his voice. I missed the way he loomed over his son to intimidate him. I missed the way he shoved Ryan around or would grab his arm too hard. I didn’t see any of it and it was right in front of me all along.

When everyone else looked at him what did they see? Did they notice it at all? Were they too afraid to say something? There was that one time….there was that one teacher… He approached Ryan outside as school let out. We were standing on the sidewalk discussing homework assignments waiting for Ryan’s dad to come pick him up. “If you ever need to talk you know you can talk to me,” the teacher told Ryan and I sat on the grass under a tree listening in.

“Thanks, I’m good,” Ryan replied.

I thought the teacher was such a freak…

“Where did you get that black eye Ryan?” the teacher asked.

Ryan’s dad had arrived. He was glaring angrily and I thought he was thinking that teacher was a freak like I was thinking. But it wasn’t. He was glaring like that at Ryan.

“I was playing basketball at the park and someone accidentally hit me. It’s fine,” Ryan insisted and his dad practically shoved him into the car. It was the same story Ryan had told me and I had no reason to doubt it. I just rolled my eyes and went home to play video games.
I was happy and I would tease him all of the time. I had no idea the torture he was going through. He was just my best friend. He seemed fine to me. He seemed normal. He was Ryan and I was used to him. How long had it been going on? He was that pale scrawny nervous kid since the day we met. He was always shy and quiet and sensitive. He was incredible and I adored him. I loved him and yet I failed him. What kind of a friend was I?

This was the second time in our friendship I was standing on a grave with Ryan. The first time was a few years ago when his mom died in a drunk driving accident. I never could have guessed that this is where we’d be today. It starts to rain at the end of the funeral. I stand beside Ryan and he isn’t crying. He looks numb. Maybe he’s in shock. The whole town shuts down and attends the funeral. Everyone knows Ryan’s dad. Or at least…we all thought we knew him but we didn’t. He had us all fooled. Only Ryan knew. He kept that heavy weight of a terrible secret for so long. He had me but he was alone. He was alone because he couldn’t tell me the truth and I never noticed it. I never questioned him. I should have known.

Ryan and I go back to his house after the funeral. His house is exactly the way it was when his dad died days ago. There are pictures of him and his dad everywhere. His dad’s shoes are on the floor by the door and his coat is draped across the back of the couch. They stand together silently for a while and Ryan gazes at the stairs where his dad fell. He broke his neck during the fall and died instantly. Ryan must have been so scared. He should have been there for him.

Ryan tells him the truth then. The flood gates finally break. He sobs against me. His dad beat the crap out of him. His dad put him down constantly. His dad hated him. He yelled at him and kicked him and punched him. He threw a glass plate at him that barely missed his head. He locked Ryan in a closet to punish him. He burned him with a cigar. He threatened Ryan. He put so much fear into his son that Ryan couldn’t even tell his own best friend. Everywhere Ryan went he was forced to pretend. He was forced to lie. Everywhere he went people told him how great his dad was. They told him his dad was a hero and how lucky he was and how much they adored his dad. They all thought his dad was wonderful. Only Ryan knew he was a monster. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“He was the police chief!” Ryan sobs, drenching my clothes with his tears. He clings to me like I’m his last life line. “Who would have believed me if I tried to tell the truth? The whole town worshipped him.”

“I’m so sorry Ryan,” I say. I keep repeating it because I’ve never felt this bad in my life. I am a terrible friend. “He’s gone now. He fell down the stairs and he died. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Ryan shakes his head. “He didn’t fall.”

“What?”

“I pushed him. He was yelling at me and he hit me. He was trying to drag me out of my room and I pushed him. I just didn’t want him to hurt me. I didn’t know he’d die. I just wanted him to stop hitting me…”

“It’s okay Ryan,” I hug him tightly. “It’s all going to be okay now.”

I don’t blame Ryan at all. It was an accident. Accidents happen. I only blame myself for being so blind. I should have known.