A Lie Too Late

[Oli's POV]

“Do you mind bringing your guitar?” I asked softly.
“Sure.”
If there was anything that brought me closer to peace, it was listening to Josh sing.
He had such a soothing voice, and I loved hearing the strum of the guitar and the whisper of his voice.
It was nice.
The walk to his house was a silent one, and I was left with a whirlwind of thoughts.
I couldn’t concentrate.
Each memory resurfaced, as I thought about yesterday.

It was getting late, and I was planning on falling asleep soon.
It’s not like it would make a difference, I hadn’t left my room since I had gotten home.
I had narrowly missed my father’s strength, pushing up the stairs and locking the door behind me.
As I was gathering some fresh clothes, I flipped off the light switch as I quietly left my bedroom.
I wanted to take a shower first.
Before I could even reach the bathroom, there was a brisk knock at the front door.
“What the fuck?” my father grumbled, heaving himself off the couch and throwing the door open.
There was a soft murmuring of voices, but I couldn’t hear a damn word being said.
I couldn’t just walk away.
I could have turned my back, and taken the shower.
By the time I got out, she would have been gone. I wouldn’t have to deal with her.
“Oli?” a voice called out.
It’s been so many years, but I could still recognize the sweet melodic tone of voice.
“Get the fuck out of my house!”
Creeping towards the stairs, I peered over the banister and searched through the dim light for her.
For a sign of her green eyes; penetrating and wise.
She was standing in the front foyer, being pushed back by my father who seemed angry.
“Mum…?” I choked out, dropping my clothes and running down the stairs towards her.
“Oli!”
She caught my smile, opening her arms and letting me fly into her grasp. “I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too.” I mumbled, tears threatening to fall.
It’s been years since I’ve seen her, years since I felt her gentle embrace around me.
“How have you been?”
“He’s been doing fine.” Dad muttered, tapping his foot. “Could you please get the fuck off my property before I call the police?”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking up and feeling like a small child all over again.
“I was visiting my parents, and decided to come see my baby boy.” Mum smiled, hugging me tighter.
“Can I come with you?” I asked hopefully.
Anything.
I just wanted to get away from this hellhole before he killed me.
“I’m sorry, Oli…” Mum laughed awkwardly. “I’m really not capable of taking care of you…”
“Please.” I begged.
“She said no.” Dad seethed, glaring at her. “She doesn’t want you anymore, tell her Brooklyn.”
“He’s lying…” I countered, staring back at Mum.
She was biting her lip, gazing everyone but at me. She had become so uncomfortable.
“Why are you here.” I asked flatly.
She wasn’t here to see me, she wanted something.
“I need some cash.”
Of course.
“You just came here because you know Dad would throw his wallet at you without a second thought, huh?” I pointed out, bitterly. “You never wanted me.”
“Oli, it’s not like that.”
“Shut up.” I snapped. “I don’t want to see you.”
Turning on my heel, I headed up the stairs and felt another tear roll down my cheek.
She didn’t want me.
I had always expected that – my Dad would tell me.
There was just a small part of me that really believed she loved me. That really believed she’d come back.
She came back, alright.
She was just looking for a little cash, something my drunkard of a father would give up.
He loved her, after all.
He would do anything for her.
I didn’t go back to my room, and I didn’t take a shower.
I sat on the top step, watching the muffled exchanging of words and eventually, cash.
Too soon, she left.
“Oli!”
It was to be expected.
“What.”
“Don’t speak to me like that, boy!” my father yelled, coming up the stairs. “I’m too be respected.”
“You have to earn respect.” I spit out.
“Shut up!”
He grabbed my arm, pulling me up. His hands were shaking, anger settling his mouth into a thin line.
You could see the pain and sorrow that swam in his eyes; he didn’t like being reminded of the past.
“It’s all your fault!” he yelled, throwing me.
I tumbled down the stairs, catching myself before I ended up on the floor.
“I know.”
It was always my fault. I had made the biggest mistake by still being alive. I had fucked everything up.
“I told your mother to get an abortion.” Dad continued, not really paying attention to me. “We didn’t have enough money, though. It’s all your god damn fault. I didn’t want you! She left your worthless ass here, and I just wished you were gone.”
“I do too…” I whispered.
“All this time, I’ve been telling you Oliver. Your mum doesn’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want anything to do with you! Nobody wants anything to do with you!”
“I’m sorry.” I ducked my head.
“Do me a fucking favor, Oliver. Please, just kill yourself.”
He walked past me, kicking my torso out of defeat and betrayal. He left the house again, leaving me alone.
“I’m sorry.” I cried out, sitting up.
Curling my knees towards my chest, I rest my head on them and just cried. I didn’t want to be here anymore.
I didn’t want to live.
“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” I croaked out, a tear falling.
I was sitting on the ground in front of Josh's house, waiting for him to come back. I hadn’t realized we were here.
“I’m sorry.”
She was gone. The last piece of hope I had, was crushed.
She was gone.
Not just physically, but emotionally as well. She wasn’t ever here, I had never had her.
It had all been a lie.
They never loved me – I was a fucking burden to both of them all this time. I was a waste.
“Just kill yourself.” I repeated to myself.
Another tear rolled down my cheek, but I let it fall. I couldn’t hold it together anymore.
Josh.
Josh, where the fuck are you?
Can’t you tell I need you? I need your strength, I need your love. I need your warmth.
“Oli?”
“Oh, hey…” I whispered.
Holding in a sob, I winced as my voice cracked.
I looked pathetic.
“What’s wrong?” Josh asked softly, sitting down next to me. He was so sweet, so caring.
Shrugging my shoulders, I tried to escape.
“I don’t want to go to the river anymore.” I mumbled softly, leaning further into the porch.
I was hoping it would swallow me up, make me disappear.
“I should go.” I decided, standing up.
Josh didn’t deserve to be burdened with my presence – nobody did. I was a terrible person.
Nobody wanted me.
He asked me to spend the weekend with me, which brought a drop of warmth to my chest.
He…wanted me to stay.
It was such a small move, probably out of pity…but he wanted me to stay with him.
He wanted me to stay safe.
“I should probably get a couple things from home.” I muttered, taking a step towards the street. “I’ll be back.”
There was something I needed – the cool kiss of the razor hiding underneath a picture frame.
“I’ll come with you.” Josh offered, taking my hand.
“Josh…”
“It’ll be fine, I just want to be sure you’re okay.” Josh half-smiled, nodding his head.
I could feel my eyes widen.
It’s been months since we’ve met, and I had narrowly avoided him coming home with me.
It should have been kept that way.
This was the worst time for him to come home with me. It was always the worst time, anyway.
It’s like my father was mourning; the loss of his beloved wife.
There was so much sadness and grief in his eyes, I actually felt bad for him. Then again, he made my life hell.
He channeled all that pain towards me.
The bruises had gotten so much worse in the past twelve hours than they’ve ever been.
He didn’t want me around.
“…alright.” I gave in, holding onto his hand and leading him down the sidewalk.
This wasn’t a good idea.
I should have tried harder to keep him away, but I didn’t.
Honestly, I wanted him there.
I wanted to scream out loud, and beg for help. I wanted him to realize what I was going through.
Whenever I tried to speak, I became mute.
He didn’t hear me.
I needed him to hear me, I needed him to help me.
Please.
My eyes were begging, but I was looking at the ground. Please, help me. I need help.
Too soon, we reached the house.
It was a shabby two-floor, with falling apart shingles and a dead front lawn. It seemed empty.
There was something broken about the house.
It wasn’t a home to anyone, it was literally a house. It held bad memories, and no love.
It was abandoned.
“We’re here…” I announced, in a fake cheery voice.
“Oh.”
He seemed slightly thrown off, but he didn’t make a single comment about where I lived.
He was probably thinking this is why I didn’t want to bring him round.
That’s not it.
Not even close, Love.
Unlocking the door, I peered through the dank living room and searched for a sign of him.
The driveway was empty.
“Come in.” I whispered, opening the door wider.
He nodded, stepping through the cracked doorframe and looking around the room.
“Do you want a dri-” I was about to offer.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” a voice yelled out, directing the question towards Josh.
“Huh?”
He seemed so thrown off, fear lingering in his voice.
“Great. He brought another idiotic mute.” Dad grumbled, shaking the bottle of alcohol. “Fucking answer me, boy. Who are you?!”
“Oh, I’m Josh.” Josh mumbled. “Oli’s boyfriend.”
Fuck.
This isn’t happening; this was just a simple dream. It was a nightmare, and I was about to wake up.
Right?
Please, let this be a nightmare.
“What?!” my father yelled. “Oliver!”
He walked forward, grabbing the collar of my shirt and dragging me into the kitchen.
“Yes?” I asked meekly.
“Is he telling the truth?” Dad asked, glancing in Josh’s direction. “Are you fucking dating him?”
“Yes.”
There’s no point in lying anymore.
The anger grew, and he shoved me into the table. “You’re not a faggot, you bloody retard.”
“D-Dad…” I choked out.
“Shut up! I’m disgusted with you, Oliver. Get the fuck out of my house! If you see you or that boy around, I’ll cut your throat.”
“You don’t mean that.” Josh spoke up.
He was standing in the entryway to the kitchen, a determined look on his face. He looked scared shitless.
“Really now?” my father laughed, stalking forward. “You don’t think I wouldn’t do anything?”
He glared at Josh, before pushing him onto the floor.
“What the fuck?!”
“Don’t touch him!” I screamed, standing up.
He looked amused, staring between us in wonderment and awe. “I can’t believe your standing up for him.”
“Leave him alone.” I repeated.
“You’ve heard me.” Dad seethed. “If I see your face again, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if I never hear from you again. I would love to see you bleed, Oliver. I would love to see your grave.”
His hands wrapped around my throat, tightening his grasp.
“I…would…love…to…see…you…take…your last…breath.” He continued, squeezing tighter.
The room was fading into black.
I wasn’t fighting back, I was letting him cut off my air.
“Please.” I choked out, giving in.