I walk up the steps—past the broken screen door and quietly slip inside. Something is crashing, is breaking. This house—it’s disgusting. Definitely how I expected Ronnie to live. I feel horrible just thinking of how Benjamin used to live here so long ago. How terrified he was that we’d see it. There’s a hallway to my left—where the noise is coming from, and in the back right room that’s full of electronics, boxes, antiques, and other personal items—is Benjamin. He’sfucked up.
Blood comes from somewhere on his head and straight down into his eye—his nose was gushing blood at some point as well. The middle of his bottom lip is split. He’s taken his shirt off and there are bruises all over him. His hair matted with a dark, crusted liquid. His hands are red. He’s screaming—he doesn’t know I’m here yet.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Liars! Liars! Why?!” He slams a golf club into a TV—shattering the whole thing and screaming at the top of his lungs. He’s sweating, he’s clearly been at it for a while. “I loved you! FUCK!” I can’t tell if he’s talking about me or his dad but I’m breaking apart listening to it.
I noticethen that a lot of what he’s shattering are picture frames—pictures of what looks like his family long ago.
“You bitch—you left me here to rot, and Istillcome to save you. All because I love the things that hate me.” Then—as if yelling into the abyss of sorrow inside him—that was inside his mother— “All things in my life must hurt me at least once!” He laughs. “Isn’t that right, Mom? So.” Golf club to another shelf. “Fucking.” Swing. “Right.” He drops to his knees—panting. “If I could die, if I wouldn’t hurt him, I’d die right here. I’d die with you. But Mom—even when I should hate him, I just love him too much.”
I know he’s talking about me—I can see the cries as he hunches over the picture of his mother and him on the floor—shattered. I can’t let him sit like this anymore. Enough venting.
“Button.” He flinches, doesn’t turn around.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“I told you to never come here. I told both of you to never come here. Why are you here? How did you even know where I was?” He still hasn’t looked at me—sitting back on his heels in the center of the room—back rising and falling rapidly.
“I looked everywhere else. This is the last place I knew.” It’s silent for a moment.
“Leave.”
“I love you, Benjamin.” He whimpers—head falling, chin to his chest.
“Don’t tell me that. Please—don’t.” I take a step forward and he startles like a wild animal, so I stay where I am.
“But I do. I love you more than anything in this life. I’ve been losing my mind all day trying to find you.” Benjamin’s shaking and the scar on the back of his neck is so prominent in this lighting I have to stop myself from reminding him he’s already mine—he can’t back out now. “What are you doing here, anyway?Who hurt you? Ronnie?” He nods.
“Yeah… So, I decided I’d come get Mom. Fuck graduating college and getting strong. I’ll never be strong enough to beat that man up. Never. Might as well get it over with. And if he really does kill me—well then—he’d be doing me a favor.”
“Benjamin.” I can’t listen to it—can’t imagine it. “You can’t leave me.” He lets out a small, cruel laugh.
“Anyway—I’m assuming you’re here to take me back to Felix? I just need Mom. She’s in the room behind you.” I sigh, watching him stand and turn to me—so fucking heartbroken—so far gone. I want to touch him, to beg him to listen, but we need to go. I’m thankful he’s going with me and not fighting like I expected.
I turn and go into what I imagine is Ronnie’s room. On the dresser at the other side of the room is a box and a picture frame. The box readsVeronica Dickinson, 2007—the picture of a happy couple and their young son. I can tell it’s Benjamin right away and his mother is just as beautiful.
“That was our last picture as a happy family.” He says. “Dad lost his job right after that—he started drinking. Hitting her. Then she killed herself. I found her hanging in the room we were just in.” My eyes find him where he’s leaning against the threshold to the room. He shrugs.
“That’s horrible.” Benjamin’s eyes narrow on me.
“Most things are.”
We hear the front door open and the fear and panic I see on his face at the sound is something I’ll never forget.
“Hurry—grab the box.” He demands.
“Fucking whore!” Benjamin jumps—holds his ground. He’s staring down the hall to what I assume is Ronnie. “Come back for more? Done going around like a pornstar?Faggot.” He does not flinch—as if he’s heard it all before.
“I just came to get Mom.” He says, voice steady, but his face gives him away. He’s petrified.
“You’re already so much like her. You’ll end up like her too—hanging from the ceiling.” Oh, fuck. I’m going to jail today—my whole career is fucked. I’m going to jail today. “You’re worthless,you piece of shit. You should’ve gone with her.” I take one step toward him—setting the box back on the dresser, but he angles his body a bit, as if to block my exit. Then he looks over his shoulder and says to me—
“Run.” Ronnie snatches him up—fist connecting with his face with incredible force, throwing him on the ground. Ronnie notices me then, as I’m grabbing his shirt and pulling him into the room with me and away from where Benjamin sits in the doorway—staring up at me in terror. He’s seen this before. With Drew.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ronnie spits into my face, fist raising. I duck out of his way and grin at him.
“I’m your son’s boyfriend—prepare to die, motherfucker.” I connect my fist to his jaw and hear acrack. Ronnie stumbles, holding his face as blood starts to drip from between his lips.
