The Boy Who Looked Like a Girl

Bam didn't have time for tears to spring into his eyes, didn't have time to scream, didn't have time to do anything except drop to his knees and pull Ville's hair back as he vomited blood into the toilet.

The boy who looked like a girl made no signal to tell he had noticed, just continued to vomit through the tears running down his cheeks. He felt a hand rubbing his back, a cold washcloth against his face every second he wasn't shaking from throwing up bile, his stomach having long been emptied.

"Bam, go call an ambulance." Ville heard April say softly. Bam must have shaken his head because the mother left to make the phone call herself while Bam continued to hold Ville's hair away from his face, hand still making circles on his back.

"It's going to be all right now." Bam whispered. "Don't worry. I'm right here. It's going to be all right."

Ville continued to dry heave for a few more minutes before falling back and collapsing against Bam, too weak to move. April stood in the doorway watching her son run a washcloth over the cut on Ville's cheek; watched him kiss the top of Ville's hand, hold tightly to the other boy's hand.

"I-I-I . . . I . . ." Ville couldn't get the words out.

"Shhh." Bam said, soothingly. "Don't. It's all right."

". . . lied." Ville managed to choke out.

"It's all right." Bam said. "You were scared. It's all right. There's nothing to be scared of now."

"St-stay . . . said--" Ville started to cough and shake like mad before he went limp in Bam's arms.

* * *

"No, no, no!" Bam yelled at the nurse who was telling him only family could be admitted. "All of his fucking family's in Finland! And I don't think they're exactly on the next fucking plane, do you?"

"Bam, stop." April stood up, looking at the nurse. "Could I talk to you for a moment?" When the nurse nodded, April looked at her son. "Stay here, Bam. Please."

The blue eyed boy glared at both of them, nose stinging from the threat of tears, but he sat down. Don't die, Ville. Please, don't. I'll be right there soon, I promise. I promise, Ville. God, please don't let him die. Please?

"I'll let you see him." the nurse said. "But don't push him to talk yet. And make sure he doesn't move a lot. It'll be best not to upset or strain him."

Bam nodded, wiping at his eyes. "I won't, I promise." Nodding, the nurse slowly lead him through the hallway, stopping outside of Ville's room. Bam stepped inside, sitting down next to the bed where Ville gave him a weak smile that Bam couldn't return. "Hey." he said softly.

"Hey yourself." Ville said before coughing again. He looked at Bam with his bright green eyes. "I-I need you to do me a . . . a favor."

Bam nodded.

"When the police come," Ville said, "and they will . . . pretend like you don't know anything."

"I don't know anything." Bam whispered, reaching out and taking Ville's hand in his.

"You will when . . . when they start asking questions." Ville whispered, squeezing Bam's hand softly. "It's really important, Bam. For different reasons now."

Bam bit his lip and nodded, a tear running down his cheek. "Okay. I will. For you."

Ville nodded. "Do . . . you want to know?" he asked softly, his other hand coming up to gently brush Bam's cheek before falling back onto the bed.

"Was it--" Bam stopped when he heard the knock on the door. They both looked up to see April in the doorway, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Ville, honey." She swooped into the room, checking the bandage on his cheek and putting her hand to his forehead. "Do you know how to get a hold of your parents?"

Ville shook his head. "I-I don't want them to know."

April gave him a sad smile. "I know, sweetie, but we have to tell them."

Ville shook his head more. "No. Then they'll come here and . . . and . . ." He brought his hand to his mouth as he started coughing again. And then they'll know.

* * *

"Bam, Ville needs his rest." April said, pulling on her son's wrist. "And so do you. Let's go."

"I can't." Bam said, pleadingly. "What if he wakes up? I don't want him to be all alone here. It's scary, Mom. He got the shit beat out of him. He's not going to want to be alone. I want to stay. I want--" His voice cracked as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh, Bammie." April wrapped her arms around her son.

"Don't call me that." Bam whispered, burying his head in his mom's shoulder. "Only Ville gets to call me that."

* * *

Bam opened his eyes to find Ville staring at him. The boy who looked like a girl blushed and looked down when Bam caught his gaze. "Did you stay all night?" he asked softly.

"More like all day." Bam said, looking at the darkness outside the hospital window.

"You didn't have to." Ville said in a small voice. He sounded so young, so broken, so like everything Bam had never seen in him before.

"You wanted me to." Bam said, leaning forward and planting a light kiss to Ville's uncut cheek. "And I wanted to. I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up." he added.

Ville gave a small smile. "Thank you."

Bam gave a small smile back. "Ville?" He looked slightly guilty when his friend stared at him. "Do you . . . I mean, do you want to . . . what happened, Ville?"

"Fell. Hit my head. Concussion made me sick."

Bam's blue eyes shone with tears. "Don't lie to me, Ville. I can't take it anymore. Please? Just tell me the truth for once."

Two green eyes stared straight at him, searing his soul. A ragged breath. "I was scared of you." Ville whispered. "When you talked to me that first day. I didn't know what you were going to do, what you wanted from me. I wanted to hate you so badly. I didn't want you to be like him."

"Like who?" Bam asked in a hushed voice, reaching out and taking Ville's hand in his.

"Someone I knew once." Ville said softly, biting his lip. "When I was younger."

"Tell me his name." Bam begged. "Tell me something real, Ville. If you keep talking in code I can't help you and neither can anyone else. Who hurt you, Ville? Tell me."

Ville gave a laugh full of pain. "Who hurt me? Jesus Christ, Bam. Everyone hurts me. I'm like the world's punching bag."

"Stop it." Bam said, wiping at his eyes. "Stop talking like that. Tell me who hurt you."

"Haven't you been listening to a single fucking word I've been saying?" Ville snapped. "Everyone fucking hurts me. It doesn't matter if you stop it once because it just starts again. It never ends. Boys aren't supposed to look like girls, Bam!" Ville was close to screaming now. "Poikien ei oo tarkotus näyttää tytöiltä!"

Ville struggled to sit up, finally managing it, tears streaming down his face. "You wanted to know so fucking bad, didn't you? Do you really want to know? Do you want to know that on my sixth birthday my uncle gave me a 'special present' by fucking me? Or that the reason you couldn't find me in the club was because the guy who gave me the drugs hauled me off to his friend? And the reason I freaked out on the street? I saw him again. He smiled. They always fucking smile.

"'Oh, you're so pretty.' 'You look so much like a girl sometimes I forget I'm fucking another guy.' 'Don't cry. You're so pretty when you smile. Smile for me, you stupid slut!'"

And then Ville lost it, burying his head in his hands and sobbing like the child he never was. "I was fourteen." he choked out between tears. "And his name was Aleksi. I thought he was my best friend. I thought he was different. I couldn't walk for a week after he got done with me."

Bam was frozen, staring at the sobbing boy in front of him. Ville, the boy who looked like a girl, the child who never was . . .

Bam bit his lip, silent hot tears of shame running down his face. Ville hadn't wanted to talk. Why had he made Ville talk? Why had he reduced him to this? Why had he broken him?

"I wasn't supposed to tell." Ville whispered. "I wasn't supposed to tell. He said, he said . . ." Ville hiccupped. "He said he'd hurt you if I told."

"You . . . you kept it a secret . . . because of me?" Bam asked in disbelief. Ville nodded slowly. "You should have told." Bam said, a bit harshly.

"Do you really want to know what it's like to be torn in half?" Ville asked. "To be fucked through your own blood? To be tied to the bed with ropes and handcuffs for so long that it leaves fucking disgusting marks like these?" Ville rolled up the sleeves of the jacket he had forced the hospital to get him.

Two rings laced either of his wrists. Red and raw, the skin unnaturally smooth, as if it didn't even exist.

"Or this?" Ville lifted up his shirt, displaying an elongated X cut into the side of his stomach. "Do you really want to be branded like that? He told me that if I wasn't going to be with him then I was going to hurt for him every second that I was away. And his friend's got all these . . ." Ville's eyes welled up again. "All these things they sell in stores because some people actually like that."

Bam reached a shaky hand out, but Ville pushed it away.

"I look like a girl, Bam." he said. "Boys aren't supposed to look like girls. God hates me. God made me look like a girl. If I didn't look like this none of this would have ever happened. They want me because I'm too pretty. Like a fucking 'porclein doll' they said. Too pretty to be a boy. Too beautiful to be appreciated as a child."

Ville looked at Bam, completely broken before his blue-eyed angel. "I don't even know how many times I've been fucked." he whispered. "I'm just a stupid slut who's too pretty for his own damn good."

"You aren't a slut." Bam said. "You didn't want to, Ville. A slut wants to. You got raped."

Ville shook his head as he started to sob. When Bam moved to sit next to him on the bed, Ville's head found a place on Bam's shoulder, while his arms snaked around his angel's neck.

Bam let a hand stroke the hair at Ville's neck, the other running up and down his back. "I won't ever hurt you." he promised. "And I won't ever leave you. And I won't let anyone else hurt you anymore."

Ville sniffled at that. "Bammie, I love you . . . but don't make promises you can't keep."

"I won't." Bam said. "I won't ever let anyone hurt you again. Ever. I swear."

Ville pulled away and gave Bam a sad smile through his mask of tears. He placed a hand on the side of his angel's face. "I'm going to get hurt for the rest of my life, Bammie. I know that. I can deal with it."

Bam shook his head defiantly, like a child who wants their way so badly they start to turn purple from holding their breath. "No. No, I'll stop it. I won't let them hurt you. I promise. I'll stay with you forever. I won't let it happen, Ville. I promise. I don't want them to hurt you."

"I love you so much." Ville whispered, his lips softly brushing Bam's. "And you're still so young." The teardrops on his face glittered in the light. "I love you for that." He pressed his lips against Bam's neck before burying his face against the perfect flesh. "Keep me, Bammie?"

"I will." Bam promised. "But, Ville?" The boy who looked like a girl sat up and looked at the angel with the piercing blue eyes. "You have to keep me, too." He gently pressed a finger against Ville's beating heart. "Right here."

Ville bit his lip and his green eyes looked unsure, but he slowly nodded. "O-Okay."