A Fading Memory

He’s got Broken Things Where His Heart Should Be

It wasn't the house of my dreams, but it was a lot more than I expected. I had hoped that we'd at least get some mobile home that was barely holding itself together, with dirty and grimy windows and furniture swarming with bugs. Surprisingly, it was a tiny house, probably on the council. It was murky, but all the windows were still intact and the front door was still on its hinges. It had a very dark, outcast look about it. It scared me. It wasn't home. It wasn't like our large home in Merthyr. There was no one around for miles. The nearest school meant getting a yucky for me. I couldn't even fathom how far away any civilization would be. Merthyr was a packed town of over 30,000 and here it's just us and fucking sheep.

I couldn't blame Stella. She was trying her hardest to make things better for Jay and I. It wasn't easy for her. If she hadn't of stepped in to become our guardian when everything went upside down we would be in a foster home. She took us out of Merthyr to help us move on and she was trying her hardest. She was just 21, only just beginning her part time job as a receptionist in Merthyr, it hardly paid much. She had to take on a second job as a barmaid at the weekends. I loved Stella, for her unbelievable strength and courage. She was taking this hardest and still kept her cool for us. I knew she still cried at night and still wished she could go back to her university life, but it was a farfetched dream now. She wanted to become a doctor and she had all the skills needed. She was clever, a good communicator, good at working with others and she was dedicated to it. Now she couldn't go full time, which meant her course would take longer.

"I'm sorry boys, it's the cheapest thing on the market and the work is pretty basic." she sighed. "There's a bus into school, it takes around ten minutes. It's in a little village so I guess you could go hang out around there sometimes. I'm still waiting on planning permission for the basement so you and Jay will have to share a room for now."

"Why couldn't we just go back to school in Merthyr?" Jay whined from the back seat. He was just 5 years old and as much as I loved him I just wished his voice would hurry up and break. He was surprisingly tall for his age, twinkling brown eyes and messy blonde hair. He still had a haircut from the nineties but Stella couldn't convince him to get it cut. Out of all of us, Jay understood the least about what was happening. All he knew was that Mam and Dad were gone forever.

"Because the train doesn't get in until 9:40 and the nearest train station is half an hour away" Stella replied, sighing. She wanted that too.

"But you can take us?" Jay pleaded. Stella sighed again and closed her eyes tightly.

"No, Jay. My University is in Cardiff, which is about 40 minutes away from Merthyr. I can't get you into Merthyr, which is half an hour away from here on time and get down to Cardiff by 9:30." she sighed. Jay was about to protest again, so she livened up again quickly. "But you won't be too far from here, I can drop you off on the way."

We got out the car and walked up the path to the house. Stella unlocked the front door and stepped inside. It wasn't that bad inside. All the floors were smooth wood but they were a bit grimy. The walls were plain cream and as dirty as the floor. It felt like a shoddy bed and breakfast. The front room was large, two couches and an armchair, with a decent size TV. There was no life, like paintings or art anywhere. It was cold and bleak. The clock above the TV ticked loudly, echoing around the empty space. The kitchen wasn't much nicer either. The work tops were red and absolutely filthy with leftovers. The equally bright cupboards were almost falling off the wall. The fridge-freezer needed one hell of a clean (thankfully no food had been left behind). It was a dark room, and very cold. It was so quiet and lifeless; the whirring of the fridge could be heard. It was attached to a little dining area that wasn't short of what you'd find at your Grandmothers. A big oak table that was surrounded by high oak chairs dominated the floor. The cabinets were old fashioned and crumbling with decay. The dust was so thick, the path of a fly as he crawled his way across the table was very clear. The whole room was swarming with flies. Stella sighed and ran her hands through her hair.

"I'm sorry boys. I tried, I haven't got the money, and neither had Mam and Dad." She apologized meekly. It wasn't her fault. She was still young, she could easily have left us in a home until someone found love for the gay emo teenager and his twit of a brother. Jay would go first. Everyone loved Jay. He was a sweet goody- two- shoes who was always trying to please. I was 15 years old, way past my sell by date. I was rebellious and argumentative; I would rather suck a cock than sleep with a girl. I was never anyone's ideal son. But Stella cared. She was the only person who did after Mam and Dad died.

Jay beamed up at her. Still young, he thought this was all an adventure. He loved the idea of living somewhere new with his big sister. It was like going on holiday or staying with friends. In no time he'd be back home with Mammy, and back in familiar territory. He'd never understand that the big house in Merthyr was gone for good, all our furniture was gone. Mammy was never coming home, it'd be a lifetime before he saw her. "I'm going to find my room!" he squeaked, sprinting up the stairs. His footsteps banged around and the whole house seemed to shake. That's when Stella broke down.

She cried uselessly into her hands, sobbing heavily. Me being a shit hole could do nothing but rub her back and 'sssh' her softly. I was shit at comforting people. It was no help to Stella, she couldn't stop crying. Her whole body shook and trembled. I've never seen her cry before. I've never even seen Stella sad before. She was always so happy and optimistic. Now she seemed so small and weak. Her strength was failing her in her dearest hour. Jay couldn't see her fall! I pulled her into a tight hug, unable to do anything else. "We'll be alright, won't we Sean?" She sobbed.

"Course we will! You'll get that doctor job and we'll start earning money. I'll get a summer job and earn money for myself so you don't need to worry about me, and Jay'll grow up in a flash so he can earn his own money. Maybe you'll meet some cute, rich guy who could help us out. It doesn't matter though. I'm here, Jay's here, and we're all safe." I replied. Stella smiled weakly and kissed my forehead. Her heavy flow of tears began to stop.

"Thank you, Seanie." she said softly, using my nickname. I didn't mind her making gay jokes about me. At least she didn't turn on me like most people did. I had very few friends in Merthyr, but I did have someone special in my life. I smiled at the thought of his crystal blue eyes. "Thinking about Francesca, huh?" Stella teased. I scowled.

"First of all, his name is Francheschi!! Josh Francheschi!! And secondly, you're not allowed to tease me about my boyfriend - that was Mam's job!" The thought of Mam stung.

"Oi, calm your tits, Smith!" She laughed. "Now Mam’s dead it's my job to look after you. I'm your legal guardian, which means I make all your major decisions from now on until you're an adult. That basically gives me right to act like your mother." She sounded so smug. Stella would make an epic mother. "Now, go see to Jay. I'll bring your stuff up in a second."

I huffed and slumped off in the general direction of the stairs. They were quite steep and narrow. The landing was small, and there were three large rooms. One was a bathroom, with dirty marble tiles and a stained metal sink. The bath was a little grubby, stained with something red. It looked like blood. I shivered at the thought of someone dying in our bath. The other two rooms were bedrooms. One room mine and Jay's and the other room was Stella's. I'll have Stel's room once planning permission came through so she could move into the basement.

Jay sat on one bed, playing some game with his fingers. The room was quite bare, two beds and a wardrobe. A full length mirror stood against the wall, my reflection distorted. The green walls had a few posters on them, left by the last teenager who lived here. I sat down on my bed and instantly noticed something. I could see something poking out from under the pillow. I picked it up, my heart instantly fluttering.

It was a young boy, sort of my age. He had silky ginger hair that swooped over his left brown eye. His eyes were so dark they were almost black I had to squint to see they weren’t. He was crying a little, his eyes black and bruised. His thin lips were so pale, like his face, pierced with two spider bites either side. There was a little stain of blood on his lips, the only bright colour on his face. His nose appeared to be broken from beating. From the way he was holding the camera I could see bright red cuts on his wrist, some old, some very recent. They were like deep red gouges of pain, sickly evidence of an incurable depression. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his flat chest on full display. His collar bone seemed mangled and twisted as though it had been broken many times. Purple bruises decorated his thin chest like tattoos. There was something about him that I found immensely attractive. I know it was wrong; the poor guy had clearly been beaten to a pulp. My boyfriend was sat back in Merthyr, waiting for the weekend so we could meet up. Yet this boy was so much more attractive, so perfect. I felt so much sympathy for the kid, his whole life was a wreck. He was bullied and tormented daily, it was clear to see.

I turned over the photo, hoping to find a name and a date. Instead, there appeared to be a dairy entry.

’I just feel like fucking shit, like a fucking retarded animal with no purpose in life other than to be kicked down and beaten.’ it read. ’It's become a whole lot worse, beyond anything I could ever imagine. They keep threatening to kill me, and I just know they will at the first opportunity they get.’ My heart began to pound in my chest. Was this kid even alive? I noticed the date: December 23, 1998 which meant that if this kid was my age in this photograph, he would be at least 30 today. Shame. He was pretty gorgeous. It was signed ’C.M’ - which I presumed were his initials. I wondered if there were more photos, like a photo dairy. This kid was mysterious, he kept me captivated in his beautiful brown eyes. He seemed to have broken things were his heart should be.

"What's that there, Sean?" Stella asked as she came into our room with some of our boxes. I didn't want to give her the picture. This kid was mine, not hers.

"It's mine." I answered sharply, holding it close to my body. Stella shrugged and set the boxes down.

"Suit yourself. This place was abandoned back in the late nineties. The estate agent was saying something about a crime, and no one came to remove anything. I had to get rid of most of it myself." she rambled. "I kept a few things I thought you might like, hence the posters." she nodded to the Alkaline Trio and Rise Against posters on the wall.

"What about things like family photos?" I asked curiously.

"I burned all the ones I could find. They were… damaging” she replied, leaving the room quickly. I glanced back at the boy in the photo and shivered. How had she missed this? What did she mean by damaging? Were they abusive? The look in his eyes told a story, one I wanted to know but didn't dare find out. It was like he was crying out to me, begging me for help.