Crying Out Silent

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Up,” I said, taking a hold of his arm. “I’ve gotta take ya to the sickbay.”

  He pushed up, the guy really small, so small that even my younger brother was taller than him. If anything, Llewellyn kind of reminded me of my li’l sister’s dolls, with his fine features and porcelain skin, which had a smattering of freckles like some painter had dabbed them on. Though, blood tainted them right now.

  “Thanks,” he said, his voice so soft I almost missed it.

  “No probs.” I let go of his arm, thinking only his face was hurt, so I didn’t need to hold him. But he instantly crumpled to the floor. I grabbed him again and hoisted him up, putting an arm around his waist so he didn’t fall again. He started shaking, which I had no idea why. Maybe he was scared? But I couldn’t see why, especially since he liked me.

  I helped him around the volleyball courts and outside, then across the school to the sickbay, giving the door a knock. Footsteps approached the other side, the door swinging open a second later. The nurse stood in the doorway, her eyes instantly latching onto Llewellyn. She was a heavy-set Tongan woman, in her forties or fifties—I could never guess her age—with a head full of curly brown hair.

  “Up on the bed,” she said to Llewellyn.

  I helped Llewellyn into the room and onto the sickbay bed, then went to leave.

  “Ash,” the nurse said. “What happened?”

  I turned back. “He got a volleyball in the face.”

  She frowned. “Who did it?”

  “Ant Torres.”

  “Llewellyn has been in here three times due to balls hitting his face. Was it Ant those other times too?”

  “I dunno,” although I did, and it had been.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yeah, and you should be askin’ Llewellyn, he’ll know.”

  “He won’t say who, so please tell me if you’ve seen Llewellyn being hurt by Ant other times, because if he’s being bullied, I need to be told.”

  “I dunno,” I said stupidly, not wanting to get Ant into trouble. Although he was a prick, he was still a mate—technically anyway, and there was no way I’d rat out any of my mates—or people in my group.

  “I’m asking you one last time, Ash. Is Ant bullying Llewellyn?”

  I shook my head, feeling guilty as hell. My eyes flicked to Llewellyn, who was staring at me with sad eyes, making me feel like an even bigger shit for lying. For a second I considered telling the truth, but knew I couldn’t.

  “Okay, thank you for bringing Llewellyn in,” the nurse said.

  I nodded at her, then left without looking back at Llewellyn, feeling like absolute scum.

  8

  ASH

  June

  I woke up exhausted, which wasn’t exactly a surprise, considering I’d had to comfort my mum into the early hours of the morning. She’d been bawling her eyes out because we couldn’t find my brother, Dante having run away again. I forced myself out of bed, wishing I didn’t have to go to school, even more so due to the mock Maths exam I had on today. I really didn’t want to do it, because there was no way I was going to pass. I sucked at maths, numbers definitely not my thing.

  I trudged out of my room, hoping that no one was in the shower, since the bathroom was as bad as Grand Central in the morning. Luckily no one was, so I shut the door and stripped, then got in and turned on the water. I waited a second or two for it to heat up, then stepped under the spray and tipped my head back, totally lapping up the warmth before grabbing a bar of soap. A noise made me glance up from washing below. I jumped at the sight of my stepdad, almost slipping over. He was looking at me through the glass door.

  “Get out!” I yelled.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here. Just lemme wash my hands then I’ll be outta your hair.” He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, making me yelp as the water turned cold. “Sorry,” he said again, turning back to me with a smirk, looking anything but sorry.

  “Prick,” I grumbled as he left, sick of him not giving a shit about my privacy. Okay, it wasn’t like he was a bad stepdad. He was just annoying as hell, never knowing where to draw the line.

  I finished up in the shower, dried myself off, then got out with the towel wrapped around my waist. I headed for my bedroom, finding my stepdad tidying it up. “Can you leave,” I grunted. I didn’t mind him cleaning it, just not when I was there.

  Chaz nodded at me, leaving without issue. I quickly got changed into my uniform of black pants, white shirt, and red jumper, then headed for the kitchen, entering the sitting room just as a knock came from the front door. I opened it, finding two cops standing with my thirteen-year-old brother in front of them. Dante looked like a smaller and younger version of me, just messier. His jeans and hoodie were covered in grass and mud, while he had more on his face, giving me the impression he’d face-planted into the wet ground after tripping. Probably from trying to escape the cops, which he wouldn’t have had a shit show in hell of doing, especially since the male cop was a massive motherfucker. One of his strides was probably worth five of Dante’s.

  “Can we speak to your parents,” the male cop said, not asked. He looked hard as nails, the nasty scar under his chin definitely not from a shaving accident.

  “Mum, it’s the cops!” I yelled. “They have Dante!”

  Mum shot through the kitchen doorway like Flash on speed, her face a mask of relief. She pushed past me and grabbed Dante, giving him a massive hug. “Are you all right, sweetie?”

  Dante remained silent, not something he normally did, but he was probably feeling guilty, or maybe not, because sometimes I wondered whether he had a conscience with the way he’d been acting since Mum had remarried.

  “Where did you find him?” Mum asked the cops.

  “Sleeping under a tree on Claydon Beach,” the male officer answered. “He tried to run from us.”

  Mum took a hold of Dante’s face. “Why, love, why did you do that?”

  Again, Dante remained silent. The male cop said something else to Mum, which she acknowledged, although she didn’t appear happy about it, probably because it was to do with going into child services. Those people scared her more than my father, which was saying a lot.

  The cops eventually left, the strain on Mum’s face making her look older, or more like her age, because normally people thought she was my older sister. She’d had me at a young age, can’t remember exactly when, maybe at sixteen? Or was it seventeen? I’d been told, but right now I couldn’t remember anything to do with numbers, which really didn’t bode well for my Maths exam.

  She pulled Dante inside and closed the door behind him, her voice now taking on a stern tone. “You scared the living daylights out of me, son,” she said. “Please tell me why you did this.”

  “I hate living ’ere!” he yelled, making her jump.

  “But why?” Mum said, looking close to tears.

  Chaz walked into the room.

  “Cos of him!” Dante yelled, pointing at our stepdad. “I hate him!”

  “Dante! Don’t be horrible. Chaz has done nothing but be nice to you and all you’ve done is be cruel back. You have got to stop this behaviour now.”

  “No!”

  “Just leave the boy, Natasha,” Chaz said. “He’s not gonna listen to reason. Put him in his room and let him cool off.”

  “I’m not stayin’ ’ere!” Dante shouted.

  “Stop upsetting your mother and go to your room.”

  Dante shook his head vigorously. My stepdad moved forward, making Dante back up fast, fear colouring his dark eyes.

  “Get to your room now!” Chaz shouted.

  “No!”

  Mum turned to Chaz. “You deal with the lunches; I’ll sort this out.”

  Chaz’s jaw clenched, looking like he wanted to disagree, but instead, he stormed back into the kitchen.

  Mum turned back to Dante, who was now looking like he was ready to bolt out the door. “I’ll stay home with you today, okay, love,” she said.
“Would you like that?”

  Dante nodded, his eyes flicking to the kitchen doorway. Our stepdad had never hit him before, let alone gone near him. In fact, this was the first time I’d ever seen Chaz lose his temper with Dante. But it didn’t matter, Dante still hated him. Probably because he was clinging onto the hope that our mum would get back with our father when he got out of jail. But I knew that would never happen, because our father had been put in there for attacking her, as well as hurting me.

  Mum placed a hand on Dante’s back and directed him through the passage doorway, talking to him softly. I headed into the kitchen, getting handed a plate by my stepdad with peanut butter toast. I sat down across from the twins. My brother and sister were hoeing into their food, the little chubbakins for once not fighting. They were seven and looked nothing like me and Dante, their skin tone much darker than ours. But that was because they were really our cousins. Mum had adopted them after my cousin’s woman had died in childbirth. Hunter had only been sixteen at the time, too young and devastated to take care of them. Though, seven years later, he still pretended he wasn’t their dad, leading the twins to believe that my father was.

  My stepdad placed a glass of juice in front of me, giving my head a pat. “You’re a much better boy than Dante,” he said.

  I didn’t think so, because right at that moment I felt like smacking his hand off my head, but I kept quiet. He was only being friendly, plus he looked upset. Still, I didn’t understand why everyone had the need to bloody touch me: Chaz patting my head like I was a dog, Jenna groping my arse, and Ant shoving me. I wished they would all keep their fucking hands to themselves.

  Chaz sat down in his seat, giving Sledge a disgusted look. My baby brother was grunting as he jammed the rest of his toast into his gob. His real name was Tyson, but no one ever called him that. He’d acquired the name Sledge after he’d whacked his twin’s hand with a sledge-hammer, the two always fighting over something.

  Sledge licked his chubby fingers clean, then grabbed a piece of toast off Juliet’s plate, the little Oompa Loompa always stealing her food. His twin didn’t see him, too busy reaching down to pat our fluffy grey cat, but our stepdad did, his loud boom making the twins jump in their seats.

  “Sledge! Put that back!” Chaz yelled.

  Sledge licked all over the piece of toast, then put it back on Juliet’s plate with a wide grin. Juliet squealed, flicking the toast onto the tablecloth.

  Sledge laughed. “She doesn’t want it,” he said, swiping it back up.

  Juliet punched him, making Sledge yelp. He turned and hit her back, the two breaking into a fight, Juliet squealing like the li’l girl she was.

  Chaz jumped up and yelled, “Stop it!”

  Juliet did, but Sledge continued, making her cry out. Our stepdad pushed past her and grabbed Sledge, lifting him out of his seat. He then shoved him towards the door, yelling, “Get to your room!” Sledge poked his tongue out at him, then took off.

  Chaz shouted at him, but didn’t follow, instead slumping back down into his seat. “If it’s not Dante, it’s Sledge. Life would be so much easier with just you two.”

  “That’s cos we’re the best, aye, Juliet?” I said to her.

  She bounced up and down in her seat. “Yeah, not those two buttheads.”

  A smile replaced our stepdad’s frown. “Yes, you two are the best.” His gaze moved to me. “Especially you.”

  ***

  I lumbered into the changing room with Joel and Marko, the cross country race having worn me out. Ant was already in there, sulking like the big baby he was, not bothering to hang around to see everyone congratulate me for coming first. I’d thrown myself at the finish line to beat Ant, splashing mud all over the gym teacher who was taking times, pissing off both Mr. Daniels and Ant in one go.

  Ant glared up at me as I neared him. “Here comes the cheat.”

  “Says the loser.”

  He pushed up off the seat that separated the gym lockers, the look on his face vicious. Not only had he a tendency to overreact, he was a bad sport, never taking losing well.

  Marko stepped in front of him. “Calm down, bro,” he said, placing his hands on Ant’s shoulders. Marko was the peacemaker of our group, and the only one who could rein Ant in. Those two were like brothers, having been mates since they were in kindergarten, or something like that. Though, they were nothing alike, except for their love of rugby and their massive physiques. I thought I was tall for fifteen at five-eleven, but Marko and Ant were both over six-foot already, but then again, they were sixteen.

  I grabbed a towel out of my locker as the other boys from the race entered the changing room. I headed for the showers, Joel following me. I stripped off my mud-covered clothes, then stepped under a showerhead. Joel got under the one next to me, even though he was as clean as a whistle. I didn’t know why he was even bothering to have a shower, since the lazy arse had pretended to be injured so he could get out of the race. But as soon as I started soaping myself I found out why.

  “Lavinia’s a total bitch,” he said, talking about my girlfriend’s best mate. “Do ya know what she did to me last night?”

  I rolled my eyes, because I was sick of him always bitching about his stepsister, who I totally knew he had the hots for.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he grunted. “You’re my mate, you should feel my pain.”

  “What did she do now? Or more precisely, what did you do?”

  “I walked into her room, telling her that dinner wuz ready, and she wuz naked. She screamed at me like it wuz my fault she wuz starkers. If she didn’t want me to see her like that, she should’ve put a lock on her door.”

  “I thought she did,” I said, having been there. Not because I’d done anything with Lavinia, but because she’d let me and Tiana use the room to make out.

  He grinned. “I broke it.”

  “Why?”

  “So I could go in there whenever I wanted.”

  I shook my head and sniggered. “You’re a total perv.”

  He grinned wider. “So worth it. She’s got massive tits, man.” He held his hands out in front of him, indicating how big her breasts were. “Like whoppers, total melons, and get this...” He made a whooping sound. “She shaves her pussy!”

  I cracked up laughing, imagining Joel’s expression when he’d seen that. The dirty bastard probably would’ve come in his pants right then and there. “You’re disgusting for perving on your own stepsister,” I said, still laughing.

  “Not blood, therefore I’m allowed to look all I like.”

  “I don’t see why you’re pissed with her then, it wuz totally your fault.”

  “Nah ah, she threw her hair dryer at me, gettin’ me in the head. Look,” he said, moving his dreadlocks aside, showing me a nasty red bump.

  I winced. “Ooh, that looks like it hurts like fuckery.”

  “Yeah, it does. She’s such a bitch sometimes.”

  “Serves you right for bein’ a perv. Next time knock first.”

  “Nah ah, it wuz totally worth it. I wanked off thinking ’bout her awesome tits and pussy.”

  “I feel so sorry for Lavinia.”

  He shrugged. “Well, I didn’t actually know she wuz naked, so not like I did it on purpose.”

  Ant’s laughter came from the locker area, making Joel shake his head.

  “Fuck,” he said. “I hope he’s not harassing that gaybo again. It’s gettin’ really old.”

  Knowing it was likely, I turned off the water and wrapped the towel around my waist, then headed out of the shower to find out.

  Joel followed me, grunting, “Yup, he’s at it again. Doesn’t the prick know when to stop?” Which said a lot if even Joel thought Ant was taking things too far with Llewellyn.

  I scowled as Ant pushed Llewellyn against a locker. Like Joel, I was sick of seeing Ant pick on the kid, especially since Llewellyn only came up to Ant’s chest, plus his terrified expression made my gut twist. It reminded me of how Dante had looked the
morning he’d yelled at my stepdad for coming near him. Though, Llewellyn didn’t have the same defiance, his expression telling me he was resigned to his fate.

  “Hey, Ant, leave the girl alone,” Joel yelled out, “or she might piss her knickers.”

  Ant glanced over his shoulder, his grin wider than the Pacific. As soon as Ant looked away, Llewellyn slipped free and took off out of the changing room. Ant looked back to where Llewellyn had been and swore. He shot out of the door, probably to harass the poor kid some more.

  “For fuck’s sake, can’t he give it a rest,” I said. “What did that kid ever do to him?”

  “He wanked off in the toilet next to him on his first day of school,” Joel replied.

  “That wuz months ago and he hasn’t said boo since then.”

  “Nah, I reckon sumpthin’ else happened.” Joel nudged me. “I saw Llewellyn comin’ outta Ant’s property a few months back, crying.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nah. He wuz walking through the gate. I wuz driving past with my old man, totally saw that kid lookin’ all messed up.”

  “But why would Llewellyn go there for?”

  “Dunno, maybe he had a thing for Ant. Pro’bly wuz perving on him and got caught. And you know Ant never lets anythin’ go.”

  “True, though I don’t think Llewellyn likes him. He stares at me, not Ant. He only looks at that bastard with terror.”

  "Which is why you should watch your back. Next thing he’ll be peeping through your window.”

  I screwed up my face. “Fuck no, if he did that I’d bash him too.” I smiled. “Which means you totally deserved to get that hairdryer thrown at you.”

  “Hey! It’s not the same; I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “You broke Lavinia’s lock on purpose.”

  “I still didn’t know she would be naked.” He grinned. “It wuz just a bonus, or should I say a boner.” He sniggered.

  I nudged him and laughed. He pushed me back, laughing with me.

  We headed for our lockers, getting changed into our school uniform, my mind going to my stepdad. “I want a lock on my room. I’m sick of Chaz always walking in without knocking. I wuz fuckin’ wanking off the other day and he walked in with a pile of clothes. I get no privacy with him around.”