Isiah and Ryan

Part Eleven

Chapter One: Ryan

Desecration

Mutilation

Mind disipating itself

Thoughts out on a shelf

The light I can no longer see

Maybe the death of me

Mutilation

Desecration

I could happy dance, I get to leave this horrid place. Oh no, it's not the end of all of this, but at least I'm not stuck here with everyone watching me like hawks. I have to go therapy now, this is going to suck, but I won't say anything about him because then my mom will find out, and she'll be mad again.

I can't help but be frustrated though, because I know that I'm going to have to keep lying to Isaiah, and now I have to deal with a therapist, too. I'll try to make the best of it though.

"Come on, Ry" Isaiah whispers, and I remember why I'm still here. He grabs my hand and pulls me along to his car, when we get in he starts looking over at me in that frantic way. "You okay?" He's reduced to those damn half-sentences, like he's afraid of me.

I don't answer him, because I don't feel like talking to him when he's this way. I look out my window to the trees and office buildings that are passing me by. I wonder if there's people in there that are just as unhappy as me.

Isaiah puts his hand on my knee, not in a slutty way, but like he's a concerned grandmother. "Oh please, don't be this way."

I scoff, because it's ludicrous for him to even say that I'm acting any kind of way "How can you say that when you're treating me this way?" He moves his hand back to the steering wheel and clenches and unclenches his hands, it's gets really quiet. I don't know what comes over me, but I'm angry at him. "Yeah, well, fuck you, too" I spit.

Clench.

Unclench.

Silence.

I shouldn't have said it, I don't really want to hurt him. I look over and his eyes are a little glassy. I know I'm being selfish now. "Look, I'm sor-"

He interrupts me. "I'm just trying to help you, Ryan." He's angry, but not really, because his eyes are getting more watery. I feel like shit for doing this. "I love you, and-" Isaiah pauses and shakes his head like he's thinking, but there's a tear on his face now.

I look down, I feel guilty, I'm the reason for it. "Come on, pull into a parking lot, 'Saiah."

He does, but he turns towards me "What?" It's not the nicest question, and I don't know how to answer it. I get an impulse and open my door. I walk over to his side and open the door. I wish he would look at me, but he's hiding behind his blond bangs.

I sit on his lap and start hamming, I know it's a cheap shot, but if that's what it takes. "What are you doing?!?"

"No-thing" I sing-song it into two long syllables. I kiss the tip of his nose and he chuckles.

"Alright, you're forgiven, but only because you're just that cute" He smiles and pulls his arms around me. I get to rest my head at home, right above his heart; I cling my hands to the fabric of his shirt, and nuzzle closer.

"It'll be okay" I wanted to re-assure him, but it came off as a question.