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therealtrashChapter 2: Our little secret.
After three long weeks, Victor's second day of therapy arrived. He was already awake before his mother even called him; it seemed he couldn't sleep well at night. He lay there for a while, hugging a pillow, thinking about the story he needed to continue that day. He seemed somewhat nervous and with a weight on his chest, as if he were overexerting himself; it was difficult for him to continue with that story. But, after a few minutes thinking in bed, Victor got up and went to get dressed. Some time later, Victor and his mother were already in the waiting room of the office. He was wearing a long black button-down coat and black jeans, as well as some necklaces and his favorite boots, of course. His mother was sitting next to him, in her usual beige outfit, and the cross on her chest. She seemed increasingly upset each day with Victor's behavior and way to dress. After waiting uncomfortably beside his mother for a while, Victor was called in by his psychologist. He seemed relieved to finally leave the waiting room. This time, he walked directly into her office without even looking back. "Welcome back, Victor! What did you do this week?" the psychologist asks gently, as she sits in her chair. "I... didn't do anything special," Victor says in nonchalant tone, sitting in the patient's chair. "Hmm... and what exactly do you consider 'special'?" she asks, slowly trying to find an opening to access the deep feelings Victor still hid. "I... don't know... can we continue the story today? I still have a lot to tell you," Victor says, somewhat uncomfortable and confused by the question. "Of course! Go ahead, Victor, I'm listening." Well, where was I...? Oh, yeah! It was the part where he took me behind those bushes and trees. It turned out there was an abandoned, pretty quiet vacant lot there. There wasn't much vegetation in that area; it was just around in it. It wasn't a very big place either, but it was where the boy called "his safe space". There was also an abandoned trailer where he kept some things, away from home and his bullies. He told me to come closer, looked inside for a few minutes, and gave me some powder to cover my black eye and also some spray to use when my mother wasn't looking. He said I could keep them until I got better, since we had similar skin tones, so it worked well. I thanked him and asked if they were by a chance to help with the injuries the bullies used to inflict on him, and yeah, I already knew the answer... it was quite obvious. I felt a little sorry for him; it seemed he had been suffering aggressions for a long time and had also had many things stolen, which is why he always hid them in his underwear, and what he couldn't keep with him, he kept in that trailer. After applying the powder to my face, I asked if it had worked to disguise the black eye. He said it was almost imperceptible and even gave me a small pocket mirror so I could see. I felt relieved to see it worked. After that, I stayed there, looking at those things in the trailer for a while. It wasn't a small amount; he had been hiding his things there for quite some time. Then he asked me if I would tell anyone about his hiding place. He didn't seem very worried; it was as if he was already hopeless. I said no, why would I do that? He said he had already trusted some people who only wanted to take advantage of him, so he had even gotten used to looking for hiding places in case he lost that one again, since that had happened several times. It was almost a hobby for him, looking for a place where he felt safe. I couldn't say anything. I felt so sorry for that boy; at that moment, the relationship we were building was already irreversible. I couldn't just leave and forget what he did for me, even having to deal with so many horrible things in his life. I didn't want that; I wanted to know more about him. While I stood there, thinking about how sadly shocking that boy's reality was, he chuckled at my silence for so long. “You're kinda reserved, huh? I like that. You're different from most people I've met, if you'll allow me... I'd say you're as weird as I am. No offense, hah,” he said. He was teasing me, but not in an annoying way; it was more... in a friendly way. I just replied, “Yeah... you might be right. I don't have any friends either.” He was already giving me a gap of his trust, just by sitting in that trailer, looking at me with a quirky smile. He was definitely one of the most unique people I'd ever met. I wish the world had more people like him... Then he laughed at me again for having another one of those random moments of reflection. He had a rather laid-back vibe, I never knew how. He asked me if I wanted to leave already, and I said no. If he let me, I'd like to stay a little longer. He simply said, "Sure, dude! Whatever." And I sat on the floor, still not knowing what to do. Then we started bringing up random topics, like, "What an awkward day, huh?" "Yeah, you're right." He had shoulder-length hair, dyed in two different colors. It never ceased to fascinate me. So, I tried to bring this up. "I... I liked your hair, did you have trouble dyeing it? Like... your parents didn't mind?" I asked. "My parents never mind anything I do," he replied so calmly that it surprised me. "Wow... that must be really cool." "Yeah, it must be..." "...but it doesn't seem cool to you..." "Yeah, isn't." That was one of the many weird conversations we had. “What’s your name, boy from Albert Kenny High School?” I asked. “Ethan. What about you?” he replied calmly and asked me back. “I’m Victor.” “Cool name.” “Thank you…” It was pretty obvious he wasn't having a very good time in school, but I was so curious about his school that I couldn’t resist asking. “I’m from Patrick Morson High School, but I’m still a newbie there. I’ve never set foot in your school, how's in there?” I asked him. “A shit,” he replied, more directly and curtly than I expected. “Oh, well… I kinda expected that…” Then he started yapping about everything he hated about school. "Lunch is fucking expensive and you rarely find anything that makes you full. The bathrooms are always dirty, with the most disgusting atrocities scribbled on the walls and stalls. It always smells like piss and shit cause some of the toilets flushs just have been broken for years. The classroom chairs aren't durable, much less comfortable, and everyone I met there is a complete stupid motherfucker." He said it straight up, in the most sincere tone I'd ever heard. "Well... it's a little early to judge mine, but I think it's not very different from yours..." "Then we're in this together, brother. At least you don't get beaten up every day, guess so..." I felt a little bad for asking about his school. He didn't seem as calm as before; I think he was having some bad memories. So I decided to change the subject. "What do you like to do in your free time...?" I asked. "Well, luckily or unluckily, I study in the morning, so I have the whole afternoon free to kill time when I don't have homework. I usually explore the streets when I know I'm safe from those jerks. I also like to spend my money on junk, skateboard and climb trees. Just bum stuff, but yeah, it's fun." I had one more thing in common with him. He looked a lot like me, only a little more carefree with everything. “Hey, those are pretty cool hobbies. It’s similar to the things I like to do in my free time too,” I said. “For real… so, want to practice skate with me? I have another one in the trailer. I just don’t have the helmet, or the elbow pads, or the knee ones… but I’ve never really needed them.” “Well… I’ve never tried skateboarding… but you know, whatever! I’ll try it today.” I was very nervous, but also a little excited, because, looking at Ethan’s face, he seemed excited too. Then he went to the trailer, told me to wait a minute, and brought me a really cool red and black skateboard with a crow drawn on the back. “Oh, crap! I never imagined… being someone’s teacher. That's so stupid, haha!” "Okay, listen. You better be a little careful the first time, not only because I don't have the protective things, but also because this skate is a bit worn. Actually, this is the one I usually use, but since I have more experience, the more worn one stays with me, and you get this one." He was so kind to me, for some reason... even though we had only talked for a while. I asked why, and he just said he was preventing me from having more chances of falling off the skate and going home with more injuries. That made sense, since he was the one who gave me the spray, and I knew he would need it soon... Well... I did fall off the skate a few times, but it could have been worse. After about 20 minutes, I stopped. Yeah... I wasn't used to skateboarding. "What? Already!? Hmm, it's not like I was expecting you to be super dedicated anyway, so... whatever." He told me, straight up again. I didn't answer anything; my body was still recovering from the adrenaline rush I hadn't experienced in many time. Then he just went to the trailer and left me sitting on the ground. I was a little confused, even embarrassed. I thought he had finally realized how weird it was to talk to a stranger he had just met and who had gone to do his thing alone. But a while later, I realized he was just eating. He came out of the trailer with a bag of chips. "Want some?" he asked, holding out the bag to me. "Um... is this expired by any chance?" I asked, but, in my defense, I didn't know how often he replaced things in that trailer. "Of course not, do you think I'm an idiot?" Yeah, that answer made me blush with shame; it sounded very rude of me... "Ok... I guess I won't refuse free food." I took some and we ate together. It was still strange for me to understand how I had gotten involved with a boy I didn't even know. “Victor… don’t you feel like hitting me?” he asked, shifting to a serious but still indifferent tone. This disturbed me a little… I was shocked, I hadn’t expected that question. “What…? No. Why… why did you ask that?” I said, completely unsure what to do. What does one do in a situation like that? Of course, my answer would be “no,” but the mere fact of having to hear and respond to that already disturbed me. “I don’t know. Most people do,” he said, still seeming indifferent and somehow surprised by my answer. “That… that’s sick! If I had any desire to hurt you, why would I try to push those bullies away?” “I don’t know. I never know anything, Victor. I never know why things happen. I don’t know why I get beaten up, I don’t even know why this conversation is happening. I don’t know why you’re still here with me.” He answered, and that answer was one of the most honest I’ve ever heard. Why do things happen the way they do? I don't know. He didn't know. I still don't know how to give him a proper answer. This is what I said: “I don't know either… Does there have to be an answer? It seems like some things… just happen. I don't know, Ethan. I don't know either…” “…I like you, Victor. You have the same troubled and stupid mind as me. I can't even believe… that you're real.” Then I said: “Dude… you took the words out of my mouth!” Then he started laughing, as if he had just heard the funniest joke of his life. Ethan was always difficult to understand, but also so relatable… "That's... that's awesome! I always love hearing your stories, they always surprise me. You were so sincere in your answer, Victor. I don't think there was a better answer to give Ethan," says the psychologist, finishing writing on her clipboard. "Yeah... I guess so..." says Victor, looking a little sad, as if that conversation had consumed all his energy. "Here, Victor! I'm looking forward to hearing more about this story, see you soon," says the psychologist as she hands Victor the paper with the date of the next session. "Um... Oh, yes, see you soon too," says Victor, taking the paper and walking towards the door. "Take care and have a good rest of the day, Victor." "...Thank you." He turns the doorknob and leaves the room, ending his second day of therapy there.
After three long weeks, Victor's second day of therapy arrived. He was already awake before his mother even called him; it seemed he couldn't sleep well at night. He lay there for a while, hugging a pillow, thinking about the story he needed to continue that day. He seemed somewhat nervous and with a weight on his chest, as if he were overexerting himself; it was difficult for him to continue with that story. But, after a few minutes thinking in bed, Victor got up and went to get dressed. Some time later, Victor and his mother were already in the waiting room of the office. He was wearing a long black button-down coat and black jeans, as well as some necklaces and his favorite boots, of course. His mother was sitting next to him, in her usual beige outfit, and the cross on her chest. She seemed increasingly upset each day with Victor's behavior and way to dress. After waiting uncomfortably beside his mother for a while, Victor was called in by his psychologist. He seemed relieved to finally leave the waiting room. This time, he walked directly into her office without even looking back. "Welcome back, Victor! What did you do this week?" the psychologist asks gently, as she sits in her chair. "I... didn't do anything special," Victor says in nonchalant tone, sitting in the patient's chair. "Hmm... and what exactly do you consider 'special'?" she asks, slowly trying to find an opening to access the deep feelings Victor still hid. "I... don't know... can we continue the story today? I still have a lot to tell you," Victor says, somewhat uncomfortable and confused by the question. "Of course! Go ahead, Victor, I'm listening." Well, where was I...? Oh, yeah! It was the part where he took me behind those bushes and trees. It turned out there was an abandoned, pretty quiet vacant lot there. There wasn't much vegetation in that area; it was just around in it. It wasn't a very big place either, but it was where the boy called "his safe space". There was also an abandoned trailer where he kept some things, away from home and his bullies. He told me to come closer, looked inside for a few minutes, and gave me some powder to cover my black eye and also some spray to use when my mother wasn't looking. He said I could keep them until I got better, since we had similar skin tones, so it worked well. I thanked him and asked if they were by a chance to help with the injuries the bullies used to inflict on him, and yeah, I already knew the answer... it was quite obvious. I felt a little sorry for him; it seemed he had been suffering aggressions for a long time and had also had many things stolen, which is why he always hid them in his underwear, and what he couldn't keep with him, he kept in that trailer. After applying the powder to my face, I asked if it had worked to disguise the black eye. He said it was almost imperceptible and even gave me a small pocket mirror so I could see. I felt relieved to see it worked. After that, I stayed there, looking at those things in the trailer for a while. It wasn't a small amount; he had been hiding his things there for quite some time. Then he asked me if I would tell anyone about his hiding place. He didn't seem very worried; it was as if he was already hopeless. I said no, why would I do that? He said he had already trusted some people who only wanted to take advantage of him, so he had even gotten used to looking for hiding places in case he lost that one again, since that had happened several times. It was almost a hobby for him, looking for a place where he felt safe. I couldn't say anything. I felt so sorry for that boy; at that moment, the relationship we were building was already irreversible. I couldn't just leave and forget what he did for me, even having to deal with so many horrible things in his life. I didn't want that; I wanted to know more about him. While I stood there, thinking about how sadly shocking that boy's reality was, he chuckled at my silence for so long. “You're kinda reserved, huh? I like that. You're different from most people I've met, if you'll allow me... I'd say you're as weird as I am. No offense, hah,” he said. He was teasing me, but not in an annoying way; it was more... in a friendly way. I just replied, “Yeah... you might be right. I don't have any friends either.” He was already giving me a gap of his trust, just by sitting in that trailer, looking at me with a quirky smile. He was definitely one of the most unique people I'd ever met. I wish the world had more people like him... Then he laughed at me again for having another one of those random moments of reflection. He had a rather laid-back vibe, I never knew how. He asked me if I wanted to leave already, and I said no. If he let me, I'd like to stay a little longer. He simply said, "Sure, dude! Whatever." And I sat on the floor, still not knowing what to do. Then we started bringing up random topics, like, "What an awkward day, huh?" "Yeah, you're right." He had shoulder-length hair, dyed in two different colors. It never ceased to fascinate me. So, I tried to bring this up. "I... I liked your hair, did you have trouble dyeing it? Like... your parents didn't mind?" I asked. "My parents never mind anything I do," he replied so calmly that it surprised me. "Wow... that must be really cool." "Yeah, it must be..." "...but it doesn't seem cool to you..." "Yeah, isn't." That was one of the many weird conversations we had. “What’s your name, boy from Albert Kenny High School?” I asked. “Ethan. What about you?” he replied calmly and asked me back. “I’m Victor.” “Cool name.” “Thank you…” It was pretty obvious he wasn't having a very good time in school, but I was so curious about his school that I couldn’t resist asking. “I’m from Patrick Morson High School, but I’m still a newbie there. I’ve never set foot in your school, how's in there?” I asked him. “A shit,” he replied, more directly and curtly than I expected. “Oh, well… I kinda expected that…” Then he started yapping about everything he hated about school. "Lunch is fucking expensive and you rarely find anything that makes you full. The bathrooms are always dirty, with the most disgusting atrocities scribbled on the walls and stalls. It always smells like piss and shit cause some of the toilets flushs just have been broken for years. The classroom chairs aren't durable, much less comfortable, and everyone I met there is a complete stupid motherfucker." He said it straight up, in the most sincere tone I'd ever heard. "Well... it's a little early to judge mine, but I think it's not very different from yours..." "Then we're in this together, brother. At least you don't get beaten up every day, guess so..." I felt a little bad for asking about his school. He didn't seem as calm as before; I think he was having some bad memories. So I decided to change the subject. "What do you like to do in your free time...?" I asked. "Well, luckily or unluckily, I study in the morning, so I have the whole afternoon free to kill time when I don't have homework. I usually explore the streets when I know I'm safe from those jerks. I also like to spend my money on junk, skateboard and climb trees. Just bum stuff, but yeah, it's fun." I had one more thing in common with him. He looked a lot like me, only a little more carefree with everything. “Hey, those are pretty cool hobbies. It’s similar to the things I like to do in my free time too,” I said. “For real… so, want to practice skate with me? I have another one in the trailer. I just don’t have the helmet, or the elbow pads, or the knee ones… but I’ve never really needed them.” “Well… I’ve never tried skateboarding… but you know, whatever! I’ll try it today.” I was very nervous, but also a little excited, because, looking at Ethan’s face, he seemed excited too. Then he went to the trailer, told me to wait a minute, and brought me a really cool red and black skateboard with a crow drawn on the back. “Oh, crap! I never imagined… being someone’s teacher. That's so stupid, haha!” "Okay, listen. You better be a little careful the first time, not only because I don't have the protective things, but also because this skate is a bit worn. Actually, this is the one I usually use, but since I have more experience, the more worn one stays with me, and you get this one." He was so kind to me, for some reason... even though we had only talked for a while. I asked why, and he just said he was preventing me from having more chances of falling off the skate and going home with more injuries. That made sense, since he was the one who gave me the spray, and I knew he would need it soon... Well... I did fall off the skate a few times, but it could have been worse. After about 20 minutes, I stopped. Yeah... I wasn't used to skateboarding. "What? Already!? Hmm, it's not like I was expecting you to be super dedicated anyway, so... whatever." He told me, straight up again. I didn't answer anything; my body was still recovering from the adrenaline rush I hadn't experienced in many time. Then he just went to the trailer and left me sitting on the ground. I was a little confused, even embarrassed. I thought he had finally realized how weird it was to talk to a stranger he had just met and who had gone to do his thing alone. But a while later, I realized he was just eating. He came out of the trailer with a bag of chips. "Want some?" he asked, holding out the bag to me. "Um... is this expired by any chance?" I asked, but, in my defense, I didn't know how often he replaced things in that trailer. "Of course not, do you think I'm an idiot?" Yeah, that answer made me blush with shame; it sounded very rude of me... "Ok... I guess I won't refuse free food." I took some and we ate together. It was still strange for me to understand how I had gotten involved with a boy I didn't even know. “Victor… don’t you feel like hitting me?” he asked, shifting to a serious but still indifferent tone. This disturbed me a little… I was shocked, I hadn’t expected that question. “What…? No. Why… why did you ask that?” I said, completely unsure what to do. What does one do in a situation like that? Of course, my answer would be “no,” but the mere fact of having to hear and respond to that already disturbed me. “I don’t know. Most people do,” he said, still seeming indifferent and somehow surprised by my answer. “That… that’s sick! If I had any desire to hurt you, why would I try to push those bullies away?” “I don’t know. I never know anything, Victor. I never know why things happen. I don’t know why I get beaten up, I don’t even know why this conversation is happening. I don’t know why you’re still here with me.” He answered, and that answer was one of the most honest I’ve ever heard. Why do things happen the way they do? I don't know. He didn't know. I still don't know how to give him a proper answer. This is what I said: “I don't know either… Does there have to be an answer? It seems like some things… just happen. I don't know, Ethan. I don't know either…” “…I like you, Victor. You have the same troubled and stupid mind as me. I can't even believe… that you're real.” Then I said: “Dude… you took the words out of my mouth!” Then he started laughing, as if he had just heard the funniest joke of his life. Ethan was always difficult to understand, but also so relatable… "That's... that's awesome! I always love hearing your stories, they always surprise me. You were so sincere in your answer, Victor. I don't think there was a better answer to give Ethan," says the psychologist, finishing writing on her clipboard. "Yeah... I guess so..." says Victor, looking a little sad, as if that conversation had consumed all his energy. "Here, Victor! I'm looking forward to hearing more about this story, see you soon," says the psychologist as she hands Victor the paper with the date of the next session. "Um... Oh, yes, see you soon too," says Victor, taking the paper and walking towards the door. "Take care and have a good rest of the day, Victor." "...Thank you." He turns the doorknob and leaves the room, ending his second day of therapy there.
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