i don't own it.
Danny's bed is soft and warm, and for a few hours, I'm actually able to sleep. I wake up again at about 1PM in a cold sweat from a nightmare I can't remember. Danny is standing in the doorway, and I suddenly realize that I don't know if he's told anybody.
"Hey," he says quietly, leaning against the doorframe, "you're awake..."
"I am," I say, sitting up. I hesitate for a moment, and then, "You didn't- I mean, did you tell your parents? About what I told you?"
"No... But I think you should tell them."
"What did you tell them about why we came back here?" I quickly change the subject. He shook his head.
"I told them nothing. 'Cause they won't be home until late. A big "ghost hunting meeting" or something."
"I'll just told them you've been having some problems lately. It's not gonna work for too long, though..." He's looking at me strange. It's something in his eyes, and somehow I know he truly cares. I've been having trust issues lately; but I can tell he means it. Danny would never hurt me.
"Okay," I say, wiping sleep from my eyes. "Hey, what do you have to eat?" Danny smiles his very own devious smile and says simply, "bacon." I grin like I haven't grinned in months (since I stopped repressing certain memories), and follow him downstairs where we cook up a big pan of bacon. I'm so hungry, I eat half the plateful, which surprises both Danny and I. I haven't had much of an appetite lately. We talk and laugh, like before, but it's different, because now we know what's just beneath the surface.
I've told Danny's parents, and they were shocked beyond all belief. At first, they were in denial, but pretty soon they accepted it (as much as one can, having just been informed). They say I should probably stay home tomorrow, but I find I don't want to. I don't feel safe except for when I'm with Danny, which scares me at the same time.
"No," I say, facing them as I lean forward in the overstuffed armchair, "I think... I think it would be easier for me if I kept going. It would be nice to have some semblance of a normal life..." I smile bitterly at this, and Mrs. Fenton nods sympathetically, while Mr. Fenton's pale round face copies her movement.
The phone rings, and Mrs. Fenton reaches over and picks it up. Mr. Fenton, Danny, and I can only hear one side of the conversation.
"Hello?" ... "Yes, he's right here." ... "I'm sorry, I can't let you talk to him." ... "No, no, you didn't misunderstand-" ... "Excuse me! Could I speak to your wife please?" ... "Thank you." ... "Yes, is this Christie?" ... "Yes, I think you need to talk to your son..."
She hands me the portable phone. I take it, my hand shaking, get up, and walk into the dining room. Carefully, as if I might break it, I put the receiver to my ear.
"Tucker, sweetie, we were so worried about you! When the school called and said you didn't show up, your dad nearly had a heart attack!" Yeah, I'm sure he did. Can't lose his 'precious' son, after all.
"I'm fine, mom..."
"Why are you over there, honey? Why won't Mrs. Fenton let your father talk to you?"
"Mom... There's something I have to tell you..." She already knows; I can feel it. How could she not? "It-it's dad, he-" I'm crying again, damnit, "he... oh God, mom..." make that sobbing, "almost every night, he comes into my room and he forces himself on me!" I am met by dumbstruck silence. This only infuriates me, and I keep yelling. "Didn't you notice! God, did you even care! How could you let him do that to me! How could you just... how could he... I don't understand..." I start to lose steam.
I hear my mother's strangled voice say, "I'll be right there." Then I hear a dial tone. All of a sudden, I'm angry again. I can feel the phone in my hand, and soon it goes through the glass of Mrs. Fenton's china cabinet. I know I'll get in trouble for that later, but right now, I don't care. I hear footsteps rushing into the room as I sweep my hand across the dining room table and send two candlesticks and a bowl of apples flying. It's oddly satisfying to see those red, red apples lying in shards of glass, clear juice leaking out in places they've been cut. Danny holds me back from destroying anything more, and in a few seconds, I am calm again.
"I- I'm sorry Mrs. Fenton, I-"
"Shhh," she says, taking me from Danny's tight embrace and replacing it with her own, "It's okay, Tucker... it's gonna be alright."
I don't want to think anymore. I don't want to exist. I want to rip my own heart out because it's hurting me so much. I settle for moving quickly back over to Danny, probably shocking his parents yet again, and crying on his shoulder. He's warm, and comforting, and hugging me back.
I don't know what that was. Just...review, okay?