~~Paul’s POV~~

Paul sat quietly in his apartment, resting his head in his hands, as he heard the t.v. run in the background for white noise. He wanted to speak to Christopher, but he looked at the time, and already imagined Christopher asleep… He didn’t want to wake him up for a few lousy words. He was quiet as he went outside, looking up at the sky.

For a time that seemed to be forever, he watched the sunset; the sky turning a vibrant orange as if blood was in the midst of drying. The clouds underneath had a violet tint as if the world had given it a deafening poison, silencing its cries. Paul was down in a gutter where he would not be able to recover, and all he was able to think of were the awful things the world and these so-called “fates” had thrown his way.

Everything he saw tore up his insides, turning everything into a blood churning twist of destruction and lies that only his good mind would be able to wash away with the waters of hope that he no longer had. Sadly, all had been left behind as soon as he left the door, the scene repeating in his mind incessantly.

Paul tried to end it, but every time he seemed to lose sight of the damning thing, his mind would get wrapped around and set back onto the train of thoughts that had proved itself to be the cause of his frustration and anger.

As he looked up at the sky, the stars came into view. The orange and violets faded into an empty black; the clouds becoming gray as they died into the night. The city lights miles away glowed in the far distance, blocking out the stars that he so wished he could see. However, nothing was able to be seen besides a few constellations that he had made up himself, which there weren’t all that many.

As Paul stood outside, looking up at the stars, tears were brought up to his eyes, in which he could not make them go away. The sky in which his constellation was, the color was still fighting to stay a dark blue. It reminded him of Christopher, but he couldn’t find himself to look away.

No matter how hard he tried, he always found himself looking at the spot where the constellation lay until the color faded now completely to black; leaving behind the stars to shine a bright white over the permanent ink that would display until the sun had decided to appear again over the horizon behind him. The time between that moment and right now would last forever because never was Paul able to find sleep as his thoughts ran like laps around the track for races; doomed to have a finish line at no destined spot.

He closed his eyes, and looked down, sitting on the chair that belonged to his second story porch; the wood creaking softly. The tears that built themselves up on his own sadness finally fell onto the wood under the chair; leaving behind darkened spots that marked where his tears had landed. He hid his face, hiding the choked sobs that escaped from him. The sky grew darker and darker until it could grow darker no more.

Paul cursed under his breath, hating everything that he had done, wishing that he had been nicer to those who had crossed paths with him. Yes… a wish… To set himself across a universe of “what if’s” that had plummeted his thoughts into an endless paradox that left his head hurting.

He cried again.

He sobbed hoping that everything would be alright. He hoped that Christopher would be okay, but he didn’t know if his gut was telling him the truth when it cried that everything he did to protect Christopher was a bad idea.

Then, Paul’s mind took a dark turn.

As he looked up from his hands--the palms of them damp with tears--he began to think of everything that could possibly go wrong. His mind went darker and darker until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Finally, his mind stopped, and he was sitting in the wooden chair, trembling. He gripped the seat, muttering quietly under his breath. He got up, walking back inside to his apartment, still hearing the t.v. spouting all the bad things that happened in the world. Ever-so-rarely were there good things that were being talked about, and when there were, it was very brief. Maybe a few minutes long if you were lucky to catch it in time.

He turned off the t.v., and sat on the couch, rubbing his eyes. He felt tired, but he couldn’t sleep. He was being worn out from the thoughts of everything, but the thoughts of everything was the thing that was keeping him awake. He didn’t know what to do with his thoughts running wild, but he laid down, pulling the blanket that was on the floor over him, resting his head on the only pillow propped against the armrest.

For once since he had left, he fell asleep.

~~Christopher’s POV~~

Christopher woke up, feeling everything again. He screamed loud, as realization flooded into his mind as what had happened began to come back to him. He felt pain all over him, and his mom came running in. He was sitting up, his clothes back on, and he couldn’t stop screaming. He began to cry, and he hugged his knees, remembering what Kyle had done.

He held his head, insanity drowning him alive. “Christopher! Christopher, what’s wrong?!” His mom held him, and Christopher rocked, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to get the memories to go away. He shook his head, muttering no over and over again until it sounded strange to him. “Kyle!”

Kyle came running into the room, and Christopher screamed, pushing his mom away; kicking the covers back trying to shrink himself into the corner. “NO! GO AWAY!” He screamed, sobbing, bumping into the nightstand, causing the cup from hours ago to fall to the floor, its contents spilling on the rug.

Kyle played as if he didn’t know what was going on, and he walked over to Christopher, who only screamed louder. He pulled his hands over his head, shaking his head, bringing his knees up to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. “Christopher, what’s wrong?”

“Christopher, calm down!” His mom said, and Christopher didn’t listen to his mom.

Instead, he pointed at Kyle, and screamed loud enough for God to hear him, “HE RAPED ME! GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!”

“Christopher, what are you talking about?” Kyle had a nervous look in his eyes, and he tried to play it off as being concerned.

“Kyle? Is this true?”

“No. He probably had a bad dream.” He raised his hands up defensively, and Christopher had enough.

He got up and punched Kyle weakly, pushing him out of his room. He wasn’t safe anymore. He locked the door and made sure Kyle had no way to get inside. “Christopher Smith!” He looked at his mom, trembling, and he pointed to the cup, whimpering softly.

“H-He gave that to me to drink. I drank it not knowing what it was, knowing it was water of some sort. I felt…” Christopher grabbed his throat gently. “I felt something… like when we had the coke with Splenda in it, I kept complaining that something was in my throat. Th-that’s what I felt. I-it didn’t taste like c-coke. I fell back on the bed, and...and… and he… all I felt was my body on fire. He then…” Christopher whimpered, holding his head. “H...he took my pants off and…” He shook his head.

His mom gasped softly and hugged him gently. “I’m sorry, baby… I’m sorry…” She let go of Christopher, and before he knew it, his mom was yelling at Kyle to get out.

Kyle of course did…

As Kyle left, the neighbor came up to the door, coming inside. “Angela? Angela, is everything okay?” Christopher saw her run in, and he sniffled quietly. Christopher knew their neighbor ever since he was born, and he always had playdates with her son… That was until he died from lung cancer… “Chris? Are you alright?”

He shook his head, his mother had to run to get the phone and call the emergency room. “N-no…”

Her face twisted into one of concern, and she hugged him. He hugged back, hiding his face in her shoulder. “Where’s Christopher?” Someone asked, and Christopher looked, seeing a medic.

His eyes widened, and he took a step back, feeling his face turn pale. “M-mom…” He said weakly.

“Christopher… I’m sorry.” She said, walking into the room, gently holding him.

“No! No! I-I’m not going anywhere!” Christopher was shaking as bad as he did in the classroom, and he heard his heartbeat pounding away in his ears. With nothing to get his mind off of things… he passed out.

~~Paul’s POV~~

Paul woke up and groaned quietly as he got up. His back popped multiple times, and he rolled off the couch, falling onto the floor with a solid thump. He was halfway off the couch when he woke up, but he didn’t know he would fall. “Sonovabitch…” He rubbed his back, groaning as he stood, not feeling well at all.

Paul stumbled as he tried to walk, and he caught himself before he actually fell. He felt that there was something wrong, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. When he finally was able to stand up without collapsing, he picked up his phone off the coffee table, and turned it on, seeing a few messages from “Angela.” It was Christopher’s mom.

Paul? I don’t know where you are, but wake up!

Please answer your phone!

Paul, answer your damn phone!

What? What’s wrong?! Paul became alerted, wondering if something bad had happened to Christopher.

You might want to find someone else to watch Christopher. That’s all he’s letting me say. He also doesn’t want you to get involved.

Why doesn’t he want me involved? What did Kyle do?

He doesn’t want me to say why, and I respect that, so I’m not saying anymore. So if you want to know more, you can talk to Christopher.

Then I’ll do just that.

Paul bit his tongue as he dialed Christopher, and the phone rang a few times before a shaky voice answered it. “H-...Hello?”

“Christopher?! Are you alright?!” Paul felt his stomach churn.

“I-I’m fine…” There was then a muffled yell at someone… sounded something like, “I told you not to do anything!”

“Christopher, you tell me what’s going on, or so help me, I will go back over there and get involved.” Paul’s tone was harsh, and there was a pause in the background, just long enough for faint beeping to be heard.

“I’m not telling you.” Christopher drew in deeply, “You missed your chance to care when you walked out that door.

“I was only trying to protect you!”

“You didn’t try hard enough!” He sounded hurt… “You did nothing to protect me! You put me in danger with some stranger! Do you know what he did to me, Paul?! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?!” The beeping became louder and faster.

“I...I don’t know what he did to you. I didn’t mean… I didn’t know!”

“Do you want to know what he did to me?!” And right then, Paul cried.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry I put you through everything that I did! I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Despite Paul’s cries, Christopher was harsh.

“You’re not sorry! You are not! Deep down inside, you enjoyed seeing me in pain!”

Paul was brutally honest. “Yes, I did.”

Christopher took a deep breath, his voice becoming slightly soft. “You… I don’t know what to say to you at this point.”

“You hate me, I understand that…”

“I hate Kyle, more than you,” Christopher said, his voice becoming shaky again.

Paul sat down slowly, holding the phone up to his ear. “Can you please tell me what he did to you?” He spoke soft and quiet as if he was in front of Christopher.

Christopher took a deep breath and began to talk. He didn’t pause until he was done, but what he told Paul… hurt him. Paul dug his nails into his palm, blood dripping down his hand. By the time Christopher had stopped talking, blood was dripping on the carpet, and Christopher was crying. “He hurt me, Paul. I don’t want any more help from you. For the better of both of us.”

“I understand…” Paul looked down, feeling ashamed of himself to even merely think that he could be of any help to anybody.

“Please don’t get involved, Paul. I… I lo-” Christopher cut himself off with a shaky breath. “I gotta go.”

“Alright…” See you in a few years, Chris. Christopher hung up, and Paul put his phone down, opening his hand, looking at several deep imprints of his nails in his hand, dripping with blood.

A text came up on his screen, and his heart shattered into pieces with each word that Christopher sent to him.

Do me a favor, Paul? I don’t mean to be mean, but I would be happy if you would stay out of my life for a while. No more texts, no more phone calls, no more surprise visits… None of that. We just need to stay away from each other for a while. Don’t respond to this, and delete this number. I want you to cut ties with my mom, too. Don’t talk to her unless she wants to. Well, this is good-bye, Paul.

That’s a rough way to go… Paul was quiet, and he did as Christopher asked, hesitating before tapping the “discard contact” button. He didn’t do anything with Angela’s contact because he needed to keep her number. Then she texted him.

I heard the conversation… If you heard the beeping… Christopher’s in the hospital.

I figured… He doesn’t want me talking to him anymore, or you. Unless you start the conversation, then that’s another story.

He briefed me on the situation. Well, doing what he says to do is the right thing to do right now. I know it probably hurts, but… he’s the boss of what he wants. Not me.

I know…

And with that, the conversation ended. Paul turned his phone off, and got up from his couch, setting his mind to do what he came here for in the first place. His life was different now, and he had to hide himself to keep him from being found by the other guys. Which was the last thing he wanted to do at this point.

He changed all his clothes, put on a pair of shades and baseball cap, heading out to run errands.