Muted Blue

The most important thing to realize is that John Cornelius O'Callaghan the fifth is not self-destructive. He wants to recover just as much as everyone else wants him to, and, despite what his mother seems to think, he doesn't want to get that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach every time someone so much as glances at him. He doesn't want to believe, no matter how true, that everyone is out to get him.

He doesn't want to look at himself and see nothing but his burn.

That being said, who the fuck thought up a group home specifically for burn victims? If John needs to be admitted for anything, his burn scars are at the bottom of the list. Maybe his mom should be checking him into a loony bin for People Who Were Accidental Near-Casualties in the Attempted Murders of their Mothers. He wonders what kind of people that place would attract. It would probably be better than Group Therapy for Sad Burn Victims.

He'll suffer through it. Every time he thinks of telling his mom that she can suck a cock if she thinks he's going to let himself be institutionalized, he's reminded that she has worse emotional scars from the fire than he has physical scars. He'll do it so that she can take another step toward closure. John remembers a time before things with his parents went sour, but that's in the past now.

xxx

It's John's sixteenth birthday. His mom is going to pick his little sister up from day care, and his dad is in the shower. John is sitting on the couch watching Ren and Stimpy and waiting anxiously for his parents so that he can open presents.

He hears his mom come in through the back door only minutes after he hears the shower turn off. Usually, his mom greets him with a hug, but not this time. This time, she deposits his little sixter next to him on the couch and storms upstairs with an angry look on her face. John can't hear too well, but he does hear his mom yelling at his dad about how he overdrew the accounts to buy John's birthday present.

The screaming match that ensues is the first real fight John's ever heard his parents have. John's birthday is forgotten, and his dad sleeps on the couch that night. John is left feeling responsible for a fight caused by a gift he didn't even receive.

xxx

John's mom checks him into the group home at noon. When she's done with the paperwork, she pulls her son into a tight hug and nudges him off in the direction of the nurse's station, where a woman clad in blue is waiting to take John to his room.

John hates hospitals. This isn't a hospital, but he thinks that it's damn close, even if it really looks nothing like one. It has the same sterile feeling as a hospital, like whoever runs the place is some kind of clean freak. The woman opens a door on the right side of the corridor, and gestures for John to follow her.

There are two bunk beds on opposite sides of the room and a nightstand in between them. One bottom bunk is open, so John puts his duffel bag there.

"Your roommates should be back from lunch any minute," the woman says. "My name is Katherine, by the way. Let me know if you need anything. Your first group therapy session is at three."

"Oh, I do need one thing," John says.

"What is it?"

"Can you tell me the best possible escape route out of this hellhole?" he asks, and she glowers at him.

"Are you going to cause us any trouble, Mr. O'Callaghan?"

"Of course not, ma'am. I wouldn't dream of it," he says innocently. She sighs and leaves the room, closing the door behind herself.

xxx

The month after John's birthday, the fighting just gets worse. Silence is pretty much unheard of in the O'Callaghan household. His parents are always screaming about something or other.

At some point, as his parents fight more and more often, the neighbors call child services. After an investigation into the family, John's little sister, Cassie, is taken away for neglect. His parents are deemed unsuitable for the care of such a young child. John has wondered since Cassie was taken why they didn't take him as well.

His parents acknowledge him less and less as time passes, and John finds himself getting quieter, both at home and at school. He's almost afraid that the anger between his parents will be turned toward him if he dares to speak up.

John is starting to realize that that first fight wasn't as sudden as he originally thought. Tension and anger had been building between his mother and father for a long time before it finally came out in that explosive screaming match. They just don't bother hiding it anymore.

xxx

Mere minutes after Katherine leaves, three boys come into John's room one after the other. It's eerie to John how quiet they are. None of them acknowledge each other, and none of them acknowledge John. The first boy that comes in is taller than John with dark features and dark hair to match. His burn is clearly visible to John. It's a dark stain on olive skin that peeks out from the collar of his shirt and covers most of his neck. John figures it probably covers a large chunk of his chest as well.

The next boy comes in almost three minutes later. He's blonde like John, but he's almost an entire foot shorter than him. He struggles to climb into his top bunk, but the first boy makes no move to help him. John can't see the boy's burn, but he's willing to bet that it's on his arm because he's wearing long sleeves even though John is wilting in the heat of their room. He thinks someone should tell these people about air conditioning (or box fans, at the very least.)

Finally, the third boy comes in. He can't be older that fourteen, and he's only about 4'11", maybe five feet. John almost wonders if this place doubles as a support group for midgets. The boy is wearing glasses too big for his face and a purple beanie. He walks straight to the closet in one corner of the room and digs until he finds a clean shirt. When he takes off his shirt to change, John sees that his burn covers almost his entire back.

As soon as the fresh shirt is secure on his body, the third boy leaves again. John didn't realize that they could leave and walk around, but as soon as he does, he's pushing himself to his feet and leaving as well.

xxx

The first time John's dad hits his mom is on Christmas. John is in the kitchen making himself a poptart, and he can hear his parents arguing in the living room. He's trying his best to block them out and ignore the disappointment he feels that he woke up this morning to no acknowledgement of the holiday.

It's just like any other morning, until, suddenly, it isn't. John hears the sharp sound of skin on skin, followed by silence. He feels like it's the first silence he's heard since August, but it's not as much of a relief as he thought it would be. He freezes in his spot and listens for any noise. The only sound comes a few moments later as his mother bursts into rib-shaking sobs. John bolts to his bedroom and locks the door behind him.

That night, John's mom checks into a hotel. His dad tries to convince him that everything's okay, but John can't help but wonder how the words broken and okay became so mixed up in his father's head.

xxx

John wanders around the house aimlessly for a few minutes, trying to make sense of the maze of hallways. Most of the doors are closed, so he avoids them. He's just about to turn back around when he spots a door open at the end of the hall. He makes his way towards it and sees a pool table and a few couches. When he walks in, the room is all but empty. The only other person in the room is a tall brunette boy with his back toward John. He's dressed only in boxers, and he turns around when he hears John enter.

John furrows his eyebrows. This boy's burns aren't like any he's ever seen. They're on his chest, but it almost looks like someone did it to him purposefully. There's a line under each of his pecs and one vertically between them.

"Quit staring," the boy says, glaring at John. "I bet you don't like it when people stare at your scars."

"I'm sorry," John says, chewing his lip nervously. "It's just that they don't look like any burns I've ever seen."

"They're not burns, moron."

"Then what are they?"

"How about you just think about it for a second. I'm sure something will come to you. Unless, of course, you're prepared to tell me how your face got fucked up so badly."

xxx

It's only a couple of days before John's mother returns, and then his parents are right back at it. John is forgotten once again.

He has to hand it to them. They're great at making up for lost time.

John feels lonelier that night than he's ever felt in his entire life. Sure, it's no different from the past half-a-year of his life, but it almost feels different. It feels like there's no more chance of his mom ever leaving his dad and taking John with her. He's stuck, but not like he was stuck before. This time, it's indefinite.

He locks himself in his room and tries to listen to music, but it just doesn't do any good. If music can't cheer John up, nothing can. He's well and truly trapped.

xxx

John's first group therapy session is hell if John's ever seen it. He's still trying to figure out the boy from earlier. After he spoke to John, he went right back to his video game, and John still doesn't know what he meant.

If they aren't burns, then why is he at a group home for burn victims? Why isn't he in group therapy right now like everyone else is?

Right now, John doesn't have time to overanalyze. He needs to focus on The Shrink for Depressed Burned Kids feat. Other Depressed Burned Kids. As much as he wishes he weren't here, he wants to prove himself so that he can get out as soon as possible.

As John glances around the room, his heart sinks. Not a single other person in the room has a burn on their face, much less one as big and unsightly as John's. Out of the twelve kids in John's therapy group, not a single one has to worry about if they'll ever be attractive enough for anyone. They'll never be asked by children if they're monsters. John's sure that they'll never feel as worthless as he does right now.

xxx

John's dad doesn't hit his mom again for almost a month. When he does, his fist leaves her with a bloody nose, crying on the bathroom floor. She's trying to be quiet, but John's room is on the other side of the wall, and he can hear everything. He can't stop wondering when the man that was his hero growing up had become so cruel.

When John sees his mom the next morning, he feels like he's going to throw up. The skin around both of her eyes is black and blue, and her nose looks crooked. He doesn't throw up, though. He turns back the way he came and locks his bedroom door behind him without a word.

xxx

That night, John is back in his room lying on his back in the middle of the floor. He's still trying to figure out the boy from earlier, so he decides to take a shot in the dark and ask one of his roommates.

"Hey, um..."

The tall boy looks at him curiously for a second.

"Jack," he says quietly.

"Okay. Jack, do you know that guy with the weird scars on his chest? He's really tall and skinny."

"Oh, Alex? I don't think you're in any position to call his scars weird."

"I guess," John says, looking down. "Do you know what his deal is?"

"Yeah. His dad runs this place. They live here."

"Oh. Do you know where is scars came from? He said they weren't burns."

"That's 'cause they're not. He's transgender."

"Wait. This is gonna sound so dumb, but does that mean he has girly bits?"

"No," Jack shakes his head. "He got transition surgery when he was fifteen."

"Oh. Thanks, Jack."

Jack doesn't reply, just turns back to his book. John just tries to make sense of what he's been told.

xxx

Over the next few months, the physical abuse becomes worse. John can constantly see bruises peaking from his mom's shirt or on her cheek. She tries to cover it up, but there's no point anyway. She's quit her job, and she never leaves the house anymore. If she's trying to hide them from John, there's no use. He can see them all the same. Even if he couldn't, he still hears his dad beating her every night.

John's summer is moving slowly. He's constantly trying to get out of the house and go hang out with his friends, but there are some times when he just can't avoid being home.

On his seventeenth birthday, one of the girls from school throws him a party because her parents are out of town. John gets totally wasted, and he doesn't even hesitate when he's offered a tab of acid. What, after all, does he have to lose?

xxx

"Yo, dude, snap out of it."

John hears someone's voice, and his eyes flutter open and come back into focus. The guy with the weird scars, Alex, is standing in front of him, snapping in his face.

"What?" John asks groggily.

"What the hell, dude? You were completely zoned out. It's, like, midnight. What are you still doing up?"

John takes in his surroundings and realizes that he's standing in the middle of the hallway. He can't believe no one said anything to him, but then he remembers that everyone else is asleep.

"Sorry. I sleepwalk," John apologizes, his cheeks burning (no pun intended, you sick fuck).

"No big deal. Do you wanna come on a walk with me? I was just leaving."

"Yeah, right," John chuckles. "Like I'm actually allowed to leave this fucking prison."

"Live a little," Alex says simply, before starting to walk away. "Your move."

xxx

The day that it happens is in the middle of November. Thanksgiving is fast approaching, but John finds less and less to be grateful for every single day. His mom is starting to look black and blue all over, and John himself is pretty much constantly high trying to block out the pain of being with his family. The worst part is that his parents are so oblivious. All the times that John's come home with a cocaine mustache or wide, unfocused eyes, babbling about how "everything is spinny", they don't even pause their fighting long enough to notice.

On November fifteenth, John comes home after school and sneaks into his room. He's sober, and he can hear his parents arguing clearly in the kitchen. They probably don't even know he's home, because he usually stays out until at least eleven. Not that it matters either way. They argue whether he can hear them or not.

Their voices get louder, and then John hears his dad scream one last thing as he slams the door behind him that makes his blood run cold.

"I'll burn this fuckin' place to the ground, Jenny!"

John freezes, and then he swears he can hear a match being struck downstairs. Suddenly, the one fire alarm in their house that still works is going off and John is scrambling to his feet. He's not quick enough, though. The entire bottom floor of the house is up in flames by the time he reaches the stairs.

He looks around for any possible escape route, but the flames are spreading, and he's trapped.

By the time John hears sirens on his street, he's huddled in the corner of his room, screaming for help. The flames are everywhere around him and he's sure that this is how he's going to die. He feels the floor cave underneath him, and then he's falling, falling, falling. He lands on his back with a sickening crack, and, when he opens his eyes, a chunk of the roof is falling and landing on his face. He's out before he can even process the pain.

xxx

"I'm sorry," John says once they're out of the house and walking down the street. "About earlier, I mean. I had no idea..."

"It's alright," Alex says after John trails off. "I'm sorry for being so mean. And for saying that your face was fucked up."

"Why are you sorry? Don't be sorry. My face is fucked up. You don't look at someone who's 6'2" and say they're not tall."

"I think your face is fine," Alex says. "I was just angry."

They're silent as they continue to walk. The full moon is reflected in the lake to their right, and John can hear Cicadas buzzing somewhere. It's peaceful, which is something that John hasn't felt in a long time.

xxx

John wakes up in the hospital, and the first thing he feels is...disappointment? Yeah, that's it. It's like he's disappointed that he survived, and, honestly, he's not surprised in the slightest.

The next thing he registers is pain. His head hurts like hell and his face is a whole different story. It's the worst pain John's ever felt in his life.

A nurse comes in and starts messing with his heart monitor before turning her attention toward him.

"You're awake," she says with a smile.

She leans down to grab a wet washcloth from a bucket by his bed and drapes it over his face. The cold feels good on his skin.

"What happened?" John asks.

"There was a fire at your house," the nurse says. "You got trapped on the second floor and the floor caved in. When you fell you got a minor concussion and a piece of flaming drywall fell on your face. You have a pretty nasty burn. We're gonna let it heal up over the next month or so and then do some skin grafts."

"Oh," he says. It's suddenly all coming back to him.

"You're lucky. Your mom didn't know that you were in the house. The firefighters didn't find you until after they put out the fire."

"Where's my mom?" John asks.

"She's in the waiting room," the nurse answers kindly. "I'll go get her. Just let me adjust your morphine drip."

xxx

"Hey, look over here," Alex says.

He grabs John by the wrist and drags him toward a cliff edge to their left. John peers over the edge and sees a small waterfall into the lake they passed earlier.

"Whoa," John breathes.

"I know. Come sit down."

Alex perches himself on the edge and John is quick to follow suit.

"How long has your dad run this place?" John asks.

"Pretty much as long as I can remember," Alex shrugs. "I alternate summers between my mom and my dad, but I hate being here."

"At least you don't have to do Group Therapy for Sad Burn Victims," John rationalizes.

Alex laughs at that.

"I guess there is that."

"Do you have any advice for me? You know, since you've been here longer than me?"

"Um..." Alex trails off. "I guess, just...don't expect to get any better being here. It's a pretty toxic environment, you know? Like, everyone here is in a shitty state mentally. There's really no platform for recovery when everyone is so resigned to the point that they really don't care if they live or die."

"Do you know everyone's story here?" John asks, not sure if the question even made sense, but curious all the same.

"Yeah. I mean, it would take me a while to talk about everyone, but I can tell you about your roommates. Max, the blonde one, um...some crazy guy set his school on fire and he got stuck in the locker room. His burn isn't that bad, I guess, but I think he's really depressed for other reasons. The really little one, Andy, got pushed into a campfire by a group of bullies at a party. Jack's house got set on fire accidentally 'cause his parents went out and forgot to turn the oven off.

"I guess accidental stuff is mostly the cause for the people here. I don't know why they're all throwing themselves pity parties. Andy is the only one here besides you with a really serious burn. I don't think anyone else even has a burn bigger than my fist."

"It sucks having a burn scar," John says. "I mean, people stare all the time. I've had kids come up to me and ask me if I'm a monster. My mom can't even look at me sometimes."

"What's your story?" Alex asks, cocking his head. "I mean, you might as well tell me. I'll find out anyway."

"Oh, my story," John says quietly. "Well, um...basically, my parents started fighting a lot, like, almost two years ago. It was just a lot of screaming matches for the first few months, but then my dad started beating my mom and it was really bad. Uh, I kinda couldn't cope with it, so I started doing drugs and stuff, and I usually stayed out really late. One day, I came home kinda early and my parents were fighting so I kinda snuck in and they didn't know I was there.

So I'm, like, laying in my room when I hear my dad scream at my mom and he's just like, 'I'll burn this fuckin' place to the ground, Jenny!' Then he did. Um, my mom got out but I got trapped upstairs and a piece of drywall from the roof caught fire and fell on my face. Like I said though, my mom didn't know I was there and my dad ran, so they didn't find me until after they put the fire out. Can I tell you something I've never told anyone before?"

John is fighting off tears by now. He feels so stupid sharing all of this with Alex, but it feels good to get it off his chest.

"Sure," Alex says quietly.

"I wish that they didn't find me. Every time I look in the mirror, I can't help but think I'd be better off dead. Not to sound cocky or anything, but I used to be pretty good-looking. Like, people would literally ask me all the time if I'd ever considered modeling. Now, though, people look at me and all they see is my scar. I'm just scared that no one will ever love me."

Alex is looking at John with probably the saddest look he's ever seen, and John wishes he could take back what he just said. Sure, it's true, but it wasn't fair to Alex to unload that all on him.

"I'm really sorry, John," Alex says. "That's so shitty. I know exactly how that feels."

John gives him a curious look.

"How could you possibly know how I feel?"

"Trust me, I do," Alex says. "Before I got my surgery, I got told everywhere I went that I was beautiful. I didn't need it, really, but the reassurance was nice. As soon as I came out and got my top surgery, all of that went away. I don't think I've gotten a single compliment in almost two years. No one likes trannies like me. They only liked me because they thought I was like them. I'm ugly as a guy, anyway."

John is silent for a minute. Alex is scared of what he's going to say, and he's trying to will away the tears building behind his eyes.

"I like you," John says. "You're the first person since the fire who's treated me like an equal. You're really nice, and I definitely don't think you're ugly. Come on, man, there are tons of mirrors in your house. How can you not see it?"

Alex looks at John with a teary-eyed smile.

"Thank you."

xxx

It's been a month since John checked into the group home. July brings even more sweltering heat, and John is sure he's dying. He's been attached at the hip to Alex since that first night, and the two have been sneaking out at night to go for walks as often as they can.

Right now, the pair are seated in Alex's bedroom eating lunch. They'd managed to convince Alex's dad that John doesn't really need to eat in the dining room with everyone else. John has his back against the wall and his legs splayed out in front of him. Alex is seated next to him. They're fingers are intertwined. They've taken to holding each other's hands at any possible time.

"John?" Alex asks through a mouthful of pizza before swallowing it down. "What are you gonna do when you leave here?"

John's eyes widened.

"Oh, um...well, I'll probably finish high school and try to get into college. I don't think I'll be able to, though, my grades fucking sucked last year. Y'know. Drugs aren't always the best for your grades."

"Oh," Alex says. "If you don't, well...I told you about my band right? Well, my friend, Jack, called last night to say that we got picked up by a record label, so we're gonna try to book a tour next summer. I was wondering if you'd come."

John is at a loss for words.

"Of course I'll come with you!" he finally chokes out.

xxx

John is going home today. He's known for almost a week, but now it seems so real. He's sitting in Alex's bedroom at two AM, and Alex is sitting crisscross across from John.

"I'm gonna miss you," Alex says softly. "God, you're beautiful, John. I don't think you know how beautiful you are."

"Shut up," John blushes, collapsing in exhaustion into Alex's lap.

He rolls over on his back and looks up at Alex, who's started playing with John's hair.

"You are, though. I love your smile and your eyes most, I think. And I love your hair, and I love your scar."

"I love you," John says, but claps his hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave his tongue.

The air is still as John sits up and moves away from Alex. He's waiting for rejection but it never comes. Alex gives him a goofy smile.

"I love you, too," he whispers, almost as if the words are a secret.

John smiles back and moves close to Alex again.

"I think this is the part where we make out, yeah?" he asks. Alex nods and leans in, and it's all John needs.