Promise?

Chapter 6

Claire frowned but nodded, staring at him. "Lyric, get down," she said. He ignored her as he took a sip of the drink. It warmed his hands up, which was nice of it. Lyric looked past his legs and onto the ground. The bell went, causing him to jump slightly. He thought he went forward a little, but someone grabbed his arm roughly. He snatched it back, eyes widening.

"Row, he doesn't like being touched at times," Claire told him, and he heard him mutter.

Why at times? That's what he was probably thinking. Lyric didn’t know half the time why he felt the way he did.

"Lyric, get down," it was Kaito's voice this time, and he was not being patient. Patience was a virtue. He was fixing his beanie that sat on his messy black hair.

Lyric frowned. Why was he raising his voice? He didn't seem angry.

"Lyric, get down from the f*****g ledge!" Roland snapped, and he glared at him. Lyric didn't like him now. He was mean. Roland groaned. "Deal with him! I need to beat the s**t out of Mario. Claire, Creed should be here soon. Get him down there."

"Row, wait!"

"Wait for what?!"

"He's not going to be able to walk all the way down."

"So?" he asked. Why was he constantly beating the s**t out of Anthony?

"I think she wants you to carry him," Kaito mused beside Kaito.

"Like f*****g hell I am. Kaito —"

"I will strangle you if you even think that I will carry him." Claire was right. They did like to strangle each other.

"Just carry the f*****g guy! He's not even that heavy, I mean look at him!" Zeke snapped.

Why were they all angry?

"Jesus f**k, come here," Roland glared, and Lyric moved away.

"Don't . . . That.”

"You need to let me carry you," Roland glared. Roland glared a lot. “Claire. He's your freak of a friend, say something!" He snapped at her. She walked forward, stopping before him with a slight smile.

"Lyric, it's me. Okay? I'm not going to hurt you." Lyric was not five. They had to stop treating him like he was five. "But you need to let Roland get you down to his brother. We need to get you your inhaler."

The world began to spin. Oh no.

"Grab him, Roland!" Claire screamed, and Lyric felt myself falling. In which direction? He didn't know.

Hey, maybe he’d fall off the building and poof, he’d be gone. But that was not what had happened. He fell onto someone.

Lyric wanted to scream. He needed them to get away from him. He was sure they were going to hurt him!

He wanted to shout, but he couldn't. His body refused to cooperate.

He heard the shuffling of feet, and then the door opened and a few more. The last thing he heard was: "The f**k?! Roland, did you f*****g kill the guy?! He's cute, too. Aww, man, you killed a cute boy!"

~*~

Lyric woke up confused. He had a dream. He didn’t remember it much, but it had something to do with Claire and Roland.

"You're awake!" Claire screamed happily.

He stared at her and blinked. He thought he was going to the doctor. This wasn’t the doctors. Looking around, this was the hospital. The hospital bed, the same yellow rooms, the constant beeping of machines and the IV in his arm.

"By the way, we need to talk," she said, and Lyric raised an eyebrow at her. "Either you're in quiet mode or just ignoring me. Hopefully, the latter because we need to talk."

Lyric wondered what about?

Oh, god. The bruises. He was in a hospital. They'd changed him, and he was in a hospital gown.

Is that what she wanted to talk about?

Why was she still here?

No one ever visited him in the hospital. He was always alone, and he’d wait until discharged and be alone at home. He never had visitors. Even in the children’s ward, he’d see all the other kids with their parents, but no one came to visit him. It used to hurt a lot. But now, he was used to it.

Shuffling a little, he saw that all her friends were there, including a boy who looked like the older version of Roland, oh and Max. Max had his own category because he didn’t think they were friends. Maybe they were outside, but he didn’t know they were. “Hey! Cute boy is alive!"

Lyric looked around. Was he talking about him?

"Creed, shut the f**k up. Go pretend to be straight at home. Do you know? Because of the homophobic dad we have?" Roland growled out. He was sitting on the chair beside my bed, his feet on the bed.

"Don't remind me, that asshole is the reason I'll never tell him or mama that I prefer d**k over pussy."

"Creed! Shut the hell up, you freak!" Kaito snapped as he pushed Creed.

"Oh, I know," Creed replied smugly as he waggled his eyebrows.

"So, Lyric, you're going to have to be with Roland for a while. Just until your mother gets here," Claire told him as she ran a hand through her pretty hair.

What did she mean until his mother got here?

"Creed has to take us back so we can cover for your ass and Roland's," Zeke said gently.

Why would they need to cover his ass?

He was used to being in trouble.

"You'll be fine," Max said. "If I know anyone, it's Roland, and he's in a pissy mood and since you're in quiet mode, you'll both live,” Max whispered. But see, at that statement, Roland rolled his eyes, and Max looked hurt.

Zeke awkwardly coughed.

No, what did they mean until his mother got here?

She'd never bothered him in the hospital before. She'd constantly send someone to pick him up whenever he got discharged. She once sent her drug dealer. Let me tell you, that was a weird experience.

Everyone but Roland left.

Lyric was aware Roland was mean. He was a bully that scared everyone.

He turned to face Lyric, and he looked like he was going to say something, but he eyed the IV in his arm. "Does that hurt?

Lyric shook my head no. It didn't. He was used to it all. It would only hurt afterwards when the medicine finished. His eyes followed the IV up to the bag, which was half full and looked too big to be magnesium, so he thought it was simply some saline. Magnesium and constant nebulisers often dehydrate a person.

"What about now?" He pressed just a little under the cannula, and Lyric frowned. It hurt.

But why did he care where it hurt? Lyric snatched my arm back, staring at him.

"You tried to kill yourself.” Lyric didn't reply.

Did he?

He just wanted it all to end.

He didn't like pain. He had never liked pain. But when his mother's boyfriends started using him as a punching bag, he quickly learned to get used to it.

He didn't want to be used to pain.

He didn't think it was fair. Seeing everyone else so happy and him being the only one to suffer.

“You were going to jump. You would have if I hadn't left my earphones up there and gone back to get them."

Here we go. He would be mean and use it to make him do something.

"Why?"

Did he just ask why?

That was the first time someone had asked him why.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

He wanted it to end. Was that bad?

He wanted it to end.

"Claire wouldn’t tell me what kind of conversation she had with your mother, but I don't think it was a good one," he said, sipping his drink. "They said that your body temperature was low. How long were you outside for?" He shrugged.

No, go away. He didn’t need you in his life.

Roland would leave.

Claire would leave.

Everyone would leave.

Lyric would be alone. He didn’t like being alone. He didn’t think anyone liked being alone. But he had to be, so he would not let himself get attached so they could leave him.

Well, some people did like being alone. In some way, he liked being alone. He thought the correct term was that he didn’t like being lonely.

Yeah, that was it. He liked being alone. He didn’t like being lonely.

"Are you just gonna sit there and stare at my face?" Roland drew out, and Lyric blinked. Oh, he had zoned out.

The door flew open, and in came his mother, he wanted to curl up in a hole and die of embarrassment. Her hair was greasy and matted to her head, and she was in the same outfit she had been in for the past two weeks, a grey sweater and sweatpants, which now had multiple stains on them. "You ungrateful little —" she stopped when she saw Roland. "Who are you?"