《Joshua's Digital Diary》


 December and January, Year One of Four

    Dec 25, 1/4


    My mother and father got me a computer for my birthday, thanks guys. I have decided to keep a password protected diary about my life, so I can have someone to talk to. To begin, my name is Joshua Hargreaves, and I¡¯m starting a new high school at Westpoint Catholic. My last school wasn¡¯t as competitive for colleges, we decided, though I did great there and had a lot of friends. Not real friends, just¡­ friends. I struggle to make whatever real friends are. I think you can feel it when you actually connect with someone. God, I sound like a girl. Speaking of which, I also have a girlfriend, Marianne. She¡¯s sweet, and she was really upset when I told her I was switching schools. She cried on my shoulder and everything. I think I calmed her down, but she¡¯s really upset. Hopefully we can get over this.


    I don¡¯t sleep well. I think I¡¯m going to grow out my hair this year. It is already almost chin length, and I think I¡¯d like it at my shoulders.


    I¡¯ll talk to you later.


    Joshua


    January 1, 1/4


    Happy new year! My parents are out of the house, and I was thinking about going to a party, but I thought I¡¯d use the break to write first. This computer is great. There are games I¡¯m learning to play on here, and the coding is pretty cool. I like creating, even if I¡¯m bad at it. Just wanted to check in before the party at Molly¡¯s. It should be pretty tame, what with the limited rebellion of catholic school teens. It will probably be the last party I go to from my old school, at least without Marianne inviting me.


    Joshua


    I arrived at the party, and had an okay time. There was a lot of beer around, which doesn¡¯t bother me, though it made a few people sick. There were a lot of arguments about it, and I even got dragged into one. I know this sounds weird, but I think about my image a lot. What would make me the best american boy. I think that if I pretend to participate in drinking, I could better my image if I do it carefully - you know, make myself look cool. It likely won¡¯t harm my career. I may try to do this in the future. I asked where Marianne was, and I was told she was in the attic. Strange, but alright. I went up the ladder and found her and several others drunkenly playing spin the bottle. She got upset again, and was very embarrassed. She told me it didn¡¯t mean anything, they weren¡¯t really kissing, and while I knew it was true, Brian was there. I know she¡¯s attracted to Brian, and I felt weird. Like she should try him instead of me. He would probably make her happier, though I don¡¯t like him. I told her it was okay, and people were laughing at her obnoxiously, so I told them off (ineffectively, considering their drunkenness). It was fine. I left the party about two hours after that. People tried to talk to me about it, especially girls, but it was pretty easy to brush off. Now everyone thinks our relationship is ruined. Honestly, I know better than to blame it on Marianne. I don¡¯t think I love her.


    Joshua


    January 3, 1/4


    Went to my first day of Westpoint Catholic Highschool. Generally, people thought I was pretty funny, and my usual charm was effective. The teachers liked me well enough, though they could tell I was a mild troublemaker. The theology teacher, Mr. Hayashi, is a very interesting man who seemed to like me more than the other teachers did, which was good. He has some refreshing but inaccurate takes. Everyone does, though. The other theology teacher, Mrs. Nesbitt, seems to be hated by everyone but the extreme conservatives and literalists. A few interesting classmates - Jonathan Harrow, who seems vaguely interested in me. Natalie, who is a gorgeous and fake blond who also seems a bit attracted to me (not that I¡¯m an expert, or giving up on Marianne) and has a great sense of humor. Adam Ryker, who is an extremely popular football player and seems impressed with me, who hit me very hard on the back after a joke. I sense a hazing ritual in my future. And Thomas Murdock, who is cute¡­ like a puppy. He¡¯s all skinny and malnourished and sleep deprived, and he looks a lot like a renaissance painting of an angel but with bigger eyes. His hair is dark and curly, and his eyes are almost black. He keeps smiling at me, all nervous. Kids are specifically assholes to him, and keep calling him jewish, for some reason. The Christian despisal for jews is surreal.


    Anyways, I sat with a fairly popular table without complaints and made myself the center of attention again. My dad would be proud. I did okay in all my classes, appropriately above average. I went home with the numbers of all of the kids I mentioned previously, even Thomas, who seemed genuinely shocked that I asked. I got a call from Adam, who invited me to a party, which I will be going to, probably with Marianne. Jonathan called too. But I called Thomas. He was surprised again, but we got to talking about theology, a subject he¡¯s really good at. It was some of the most intelligent conversation I¡¯ve had outside of my dad. It was fascinating, and he is really piquing my interest. I like him.


    Joshua


    January 8, 1/4


    I went to the party with Marianne. It was fine, again. More drinking. I tried switching out the beer for water by pouring the garbage out and filling it back up at the sink. Still tasted awful, but no one caught me. Did have to go to the bathroom to do it, though. People who knew me seemed very excited by the change, except for Marianne. She¡¯s very protective of me and our relationship now. She glares at other girls when they look at me for too long, and I had to keep her from drinking excessively. She argued with a girl about whether they were talking about us, and I think she wanted to make it physical. I got her to talk to me and told her that she didn¡¯t need to do that, but she was upset that I didn¡¯t understand. It was complicated.


    Joshua


    January 11, 1/4


    My mother is concerned about me, and is onto the fact that I go to parties. I need to start making excuses as to why I¡¯m out. At least I¡¯m not doing anything actually bad. Other than lying. Shit. Oh well.


    I¡¯m steadily making friends with the kids in my grade. One of the more popular kids made fun of a very unpopular one for still drinking chocolate milk, like he doesn¡¯t eye it every time we peek at the cafeteria we¡¯re all too rich to eat at, and I need to tell my mom to stop buying it for me. She still thinks of me as her ¡°little angel¡±, or her baby or something, and it causes her to treat me like fine china. I love her, but I¡¯m going to have to hurt her and ask that she starts treating me my age before I invite friends over.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Speaking of friends, there is one person that I want to be friends with, but I¡¯m unsure if he wants the same thing. Thomas does not trust me at all, which is astonishing and a huge blow to my massive ego. He keeps thinking I¡¯m gonna pull the rug out from under him and start making fun of his, I don¡¯t know, school issued uniform?? For wrinkles and wear and tear?? What is wrong with catholics. But I keep not doing¡­ that, and he¡¯s clearly confused. I feel bad about it. He¡¯s still fun to talk to, but he¡¯s getting more withdrawn.


    Marianne calls every night and talks about anything, and I listen. Boys are bothering her, girls are harassing her and it sounds like she¡¯s come down a peg from her previously high standing. I feel like it¡¯s my fault for catching her playing that stupid game, but that¡¯s wrong. She¡¯s the one who played a fucking kissing game while I was downstairs, like we¡¯re still in middle school and hell, not even catholic kids. I tried telling her about my friends, but when we got to Thomas, she just¡­ didn¡¯t get it. Like I was talking about an alien encounter or something. She didn¡¯t get liking theology class, liking debate, anything. And it¡¯s not like she¡¯s unintelligent or something, she just. I don¡¯t know. She doesn¡¯t invest in school because she¡¯s investing in her ability to be a wife. That¡¯s not really an exaggeration, she¡¯s already talked about marrying me and how women should stay home and clean. I wouldn¡¯t even mind marrying her, but this seems to be a small issue, the whole not appreciating debate thing.


    Joshua


    January 16, 1/4


    Just got home from a party. Went with Marianne. Everyone I know from the new school was there except Thomas. Marianne was acting really chatty and flirtatious, like obnoxiously flirtatious, the entire night. She drank a lot, and I tried to stop her, but she got pissed so I let it slide - I mean, I was there to make sure she got home safe, and didn¡¯t puke in her hair or whatever. Then she invited me upstairs to ¡°talk¡± with a wink, and I was stunned, so I kind of let her drag me up there. We were in one of the hosts¡¯ rooms, and that was already uncomfortable. Then she told me she wanted me to fuck her. Which was. Not okay. She said all of this dirty and insincere shit about what she wanted, and I could see it in her eyes she was more scared than anything. I tried to remind her of her purity vows and waiting until marriage, but she told me. She¡¯d already had sex. And she looked away when she said it, like a liar, and I knew. I told her not to harass me like this again, and that she should probably like herself more, to which she got absolutely pissed and threw the fucking BEDSIDE LAMP at me. It did hit me, but luckily only the shade, and it fell without breaking. She burst into tears and started screaming and crying about how she was doing this for me, and how I was a terrible boyfriend and all this other shit. Well fuck her. If I threw a lamp at her there would be no chance of forgiveness, and I know she was drunk and upset and I did something to cause that, but damn. Fuck Marianne. I¡¯ll call her tomorrow about it.


    Joshua


    January 17, 1/4


    I called Marianne. We¡¯re done. She screamed and cried and apologized over and over for it, but it was too much. I already don¡¯t love her, it was a relationship of convenience, and that was the last straw. I know that sounds cruel, but I am. Cruel. I called Natalie afterwards, told her what was happening, and got the sympathy I wanted. I listened to her talk about her life, and her humor made me feel much more comfortable. She even laughed at a few of my own jokes. I like Natalie, she is much more headstrong and cool. If I had to enter another relationship, I¡¯d want it to be with her. At least she likely wouldn¡¯t throw a lamp at me. Then I called Thomas. I didn¡¯t tell him, not at first. We just talked about virginity in a religious context, at least regarding women, which I thought would be a fun exercise. Then he wanted to know why I was asking, and I told him about Marianne. He was stunned into silence for a moment. Then he said I was being an asshole, only half joking. I laughed. I thanked him for being honest with me, and he laughed too. He said it sucked that Marianne threw the goddamn lamp at me, and I agreed, and made him promise he¡¯d never tolerate that from anyone. He made some joke about that being the only way he¡¯d get a girl, and when I reassured him, he brushed it off. Weird. He¡¯s attractive in that soft, feminine way some girls really like, and he has the markers of a poet. Girls would be fawning over him if it weren¡¯t for the assholes always calling him a fag. I want to tell him that, but I think that¡¯d be a little too forward.


    Joshua


    January 21, 1/4


    It happens every couple of months. I get this urge¡­ I want to see people from the inside, in every way. What their thoughts are, what they feel, how they feel, what their intestines look like pulled from their body. I hope my mother never reads this. Last time, I wanted to see Marianne¡¯s body, cut open like a diagram. Like that frog from seventh.


    I had to leave the room. The kids called me a crybaby, saying I was afraid of a frog. I was fascinated, no, more enthralled than anything. I wanted to reach in with my bare hands and play cat¡¯s cradle with the small intestine. It was killing me to step away, my body hurt, everything was strange. I was breathing oddly, too. I don¡¯t like that memory, it reminds me of too many things.


    I feel that way tonight, directed at Natalie. I don¡¯t actually want to hurt Natalie, I could never do that, but. But. If there was a painless way to see inside someone, pull on their insides, see their heart beat¡­ maybe I could be a surgeon if the obsession didn¡¯t run so deep. I¡¯ve asked my mother for sleeping pills tonight, and I can feel them slowly working. I¡¯m going to bed. Hopefully I sleep it off.


    Joshua


    January 23, 1/4


    Mr. Hayashi has sat Thomas and I next to each other, and an already enjoyable class has gotten better. Thomas seems very enthusiastic about the class, and while I can¡¯t show the same enthusiasm, I am also quite pleased. I am somewhat concerned that I should not be near someone who is viewed as poorly as he is, but that is¡­ not something I should be concerned about. The irrational hatred targeted towards Thomas is laughable at best, and I should be able to navigate this without lowering my own reputation, and do so without compromising myself or our friendship.


    I am still not sitting with him during lunch, even though I would personally prefer to. I¡¯m still worried that Natalie, Adam, and Jonathan, the leaders of their respective cliques, will dislike our friendship and remove us both from their social circles. Social standing is important to me, so I must work to find a way to bring in Thomas rather than give in and sit with him, as much as it sucks. I sat with Natalie¡¯s group, which is a diverse cast of cheerleaders, theater and band higher ups, and a few athletic kids. They seemed to like me quite a lot, actually. I feel as though I was sufficiently charming. Oh my god did I just type that out. Listen. I just¡­ know when people like me. And I need that approval. And I got that approval today, ok? It felt right. Natalie was especially funny. I think I actually like her. She¡¯s better than Marianne, regardless of if she¡¯s going to date me or not. I¡¯m actually looking forward to being friends with her. It¡¯s weird. Hope it works out.


    Joshua


    January 30, 1/4


    I invited Thomas over to my house today. I was strangely excited for him to meet my mother. She was kind and warm to him, as always. And. I think I saw him cry a little? It was extremely strange and even slightly out of character. I think I should invite him over more often. Mother made cucumber sandwiches (she¡¯s been reading more old british mystery novels) and lemonade for us. I love my mother. Thomas seemed very hungry, so I let him eat most of it. We talked about philosophy and played board games for a bit, and then I showed him my little secret. DOOM. My mother would practically faint if she saw it, but I thought it would impress him. I loaded it up with the door locked (sorry mother) and showed him the basic mechanics and the gore. Sometimes, and I say this with discretion, I think this game is unhealthy for me. Sometimes, looking at the blood splatters along the wall, I get that itch ever so slightly.


    Thomas was nervous about playing the game - he¡¯s very devout. I explain that the whole point of the game is killing demons, not befriending them, and we both reasoned that a game about destroying the legions of hell would likely be okay with Jesus. Not god, but Jesus. He seemed to really enjoy the game after that, even laughing. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard him laugh so loudly. My mother came knocking after that, chiding us for being so loud as I rapidly turned the volume down. That was embarrassing. We both had a good laugh after that.


    Joshua

 February, Year One of Four

    February 1, 1/4


    It¡¯s my favorite month. Happy love month, computer! I tried drawing Thomas last night while I was on the phone with Natalie. I think Natalie really understands me. Not everything, obviously, but she always listens so intently when I talk, and I listen back. She has this really friendly air to her that I don¡¯t think I can live without. The picture turned out accurate, though I didn¡¯t get his eyes right. They look¡­ really lifeless. Bored. They look like mine when no one¡¯s watching. It¡¯s creepy. I think I¡¯ll keep it. Natalie asked why I sounded weird, and when I told her I was struggling with a project, she laughed and asked me what I could possibly be struggling with. I don¡¯t know.


    Everything is too symbolic feeling, like I¡¯m trapped in English class. I¡¯m tired. Goodnight, computer.


    Joshua


    February 3, 1/4


    My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home.


    February 3, 1/4


    I had a dream about my dad last night. He was telling me awful shit. It made my head hurt. I think it was a nightmare. I didn¡¯t sleep very well. My mother pouted when she saw me, and made my favorite breakfast - oatmeal with milk and brown sugar. It¡¯s really basic, but I like it. I didn¡¯t tell her about dad, but I did tell her I had a nightmare. Father chided her for babying me, and while part of me agrees that I shouldn¡¯t be coddled so much, I think I might enjoy it. I went to school, got through class fine, except for religious studies. Thomas got into an argument with the teacher over her disparaging of various other religions, this time Shintoism, which she barely covered. Adam threw a wad of paper at him, and Thomas flinched.


    I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m over that.


    Anyways. The teacher had Thomas sent to the principal¡¯s office for insubordination. He got detention. People like Adam, who want to pummel Thomas into the ground (his exact words were, and I quote ¡°tear that pansy to shreds¡±) go to detention, which made me feel. Nauseous. So I decided that I would sleep during her class. She hates this in particular, for she likes to feel like the center of the world¡¯s knowledge and attention. She is not. I got into trouble. Natalie was vaguely shocked, but Adam seemed very excited by the news. Natalie even tried to wake me up before I got caught, but I thought it better to pretend to sleep through it.


    So I got into detention with Thomas. I sat as close to him as I could while keeping Adam distracted with his own tales of female exploitation and football. I managed to pass a few notes for Thomas to read, and he passed me this one back. I have scanned it into the computer for safekeeping.


    My father was pretty mad when I got home, and my mother was almost crying. My father demanded to know what could possibly be wrong enough with me to warrant falling asleep with class, and my mother couldn¡¯t understand why I had neglected my class like that. I told them that I was exhausted, and my father told me to be a man and power through it or else. I was not fed dinner as per my father¡¯s orders. I don¡¯t know what the consequences will be next time, and while I don¡¯t exactly want to find out, I think it was pretty close to worth it.


    Joshua


    February 4, 1/4


    Mr. Hayashi spoke to me today about how I need to be more careful in class, and asked why I fell asleep. When I told him I had mild insomnia that night, he listened and recommended I go to bed early tonight. I don¡¯t get it. Mr. Hayashi acts in an atypical fashion compared to nearly every adult I know.


    My mother packed me a rather light lunch today, and made no breakfast (which I don¡¯t expect her to do) with all of the cereal and other breakfast items having magically disappeared. I think this is part of a continued punishment from my father. I do not see how he thinks this will make me more energetic, but then again punishments are not usually about improvement. I feel hungry. I am not used to being hungry. I gave most of my lunch to Natalie, who has been eating less herself lately. She says her mom has put her on a diet to help her perform better as an athlete. She doesn¡¯t need to improve beyond her already strong form and other bullshit. The only people who seem to be eating well are Adam and Jonathan. I hope they starve some day, in a nursing home, neglected and abandoned by those they love and trust.


    Joshua


    February 5, 1/4


    I was not allowed to eat dinner again. My mother and father argued about it as soon as I went to bed, lasting for at least two hours. I screamed into my pillow a few times. I could not sleep again. I dreamt of a murder on the tracks outside of town, blood splattering over a soundtrack of the loud bellowing echo of a train¡¯s whistle. I woke up uncomfortably sweaty. And hungry. It hurts now.


    I couldn¡¯t focus as much on class, though I did okay on my math test. Natalie wanted to share some of her lunch with me, but I refused. I ate most of my own small lunch this time, though. Hopefully things go back to normal soon - Natalie must be hungry, too. Thomas gave me another note.


    Thanks, Thomas.


    Joshua


    February 6, 1/4


    The punishment has ended. My mother broke down and cried as she hugged me tightly, apologizing for not feeding me, and that¡¯s what broke my father. I don¡¯t know how long that would¡¯ve gone on without her intervention.


    I went to the library today to get some alone time, and I found an interesting book. Grey¡¯s Anatomy. It is filled with anatomical illustrations and descriptions, and I think I will be stealing it from the library. I¡¯ll pay the fine, sure, but I don¡¯t think I can find a copy on my own without arousing suspicion. I¡¯ll say it¡¯s for biology class. I hope my mother does not open the contents of the book.


    Joshua


    February 8, 1/4


    It¡¯s the weekend, hurrah. I told my mother that I would be assisting Adam with his math test next week. We both know that I¡¯m not doing that. When I got to the party, things were out of control. Everyone was drinking or drunk, and I could smell weed throughout the smog of the party, which was unpleasant. I hung in the back of the party, drinking some of my own ¡°beer¡± while watching the crowd. Everything felt unreal, like I was watching from outside of my body. My mind wandered over and over again to my father. What I should do about him. Why he hurt me. Why I was willing to do this for some vague friendship with a kid nobody else even likes. I felt bitter. I felt this visceral hatred directed in equal parts to my father and Thomas. I drank a real beer. It tasted awful, but my head hurt less. All I could think about for the rest of the night was sharp teeth sinking into flesh, of a frog¡¯s innards stretched out and thin over a dissection tray, of stories of being awake during surgery. I looked down, and noticed my hands were shaking. I put the beer aside and headed out into the party. I can¡¯t remember much past that point, but I do remember seeing Jacob¡¯s (a football kid) girlfriend run from upstairs, crying, as Jacob tried to follow her. It reminded me too much of me and Marianne. I pretended to be drunk and stuck my leg out. Beer flew from several solo cups as Jacob came crashing down, and I fell on my ass. He started screaming and pushing me, but I just laughed him off. His friends were holding him back from hitting me as I apologized for my clumsiness. He seemed to get over it. I did not follow her. I went to my car, had a seat, and drove home. My mother was very worried by the late hour, but I assured her that Adam just needed a lot of help and that I had gotten dinner. Her face crumpled as I spoke. I went straight here. I feel weird. Like I¡¯m not really here.


    I can hear my dad.


    Joshua


    February 10, 1/4


    My mom made me eggs and bacon before school. I have never eaten so quickly. Today we had a presentation on abortion. Mrs. Nesbitt was leading. It made my skin crawl, all the horrible vitriol she said, all these implications that it was a woman¡¯s fault for getting pregnant regardless of circumstances, how the baby must always come before the mother. But the images of the fetuses were fascinating. I couldn¡¯t look away. I am certain I looked like a freak. We said our prayers, and I spied Thomas praying devoutly. I wonder what he thinks of all this. I know he¡¯s very dedicated to Christ, and that despite his interest in theology he still considers God to be the one true savior or whatever. Does he believe Mrs. Nesbitt¡¯s lies? He looked¡­ beautiful, praying. I almost wish I was on the receiving end of all the piety, all that attention. I think I could be.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Jonathan came to me at lunch today to talk about the horrors of abortion, and I nodded along to whatever ridiculous ideas he wanted to spout. It was almost torture. And then I had to sit next to Adam, who was going on about how girls who dress unlike a nun deserve to be assaulted. Great. I left at some point, citing that I needed to talk to Mr. Hayashi. I instead went to the library, found a nice corner, put my head between my knees and shut up until class started.


    For dinner we had chicken and dumplings, my favorite. I saved the leftovers in my lunch bag. Thomas and Natalie eat like birds. Skinny, pretty little birds. I think my mother is still trying to apologize to me. I think I¡¯ve already forgiven her. I don¡¯t know. Goodnight, computer.


    Joshua


    February 13, 1/4


    I woke up screaming an hour ago. I don¡¯t know what I was dreaming of, but I have my suspicions. My father told me to knock it off, that I was frightening my poor mother. I wanted to scream all over again.


    I don¡¯t want to go back to bed. I don¡¯t care what the consequences are. I Don¡¯t Want To Sleep. My room looks so dark in the light of your glow, and I¡¯m afraid to look behind me. It¡¯s like I¡¯m six all over again, afraid of my dad, hiding in my closet from the world until the sun rises. I can feel a breath on my neck. I feel cold.


    Joshua


    February 13, 1/4


    There was nothing in my room. I¡¯m fine now. Today my mother wanted to show me some old baby pictures of myself. She does this every couple of years, to brag about what a cute baby I was, and secretly, talk about my dad. We don¡¯t mention him too often, but I can tell she misses him. I really wish she didn¡¯t.


    Thomas came and sat with me during lunch today, which surprised me. He had this sort of upset, focused face as he came over, and he simply pressed in next to me, sitting down. I smiled and joked and gave him a third of my lunch when no one was looking, but he didn¡¯t really talk to me. Natalie just stared at him, and then demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing. I told her that he could do as he pleases, regardless of whether she likes him or not. She got up and left, clearly upset. He just ate in silence. I felt this strange urge to hold his hand under the table, but I didn¡¯t. I don¡¯t know if we should be doing this. I need to keep my reputation pristine, and I shouldn¡¯t let Thomas get in the way of that. But I do. I need to be better than this. I don¡¯t deserve someone like Thomas, and Thomas doesn¡¯t deserve someone like me. I will need to find a way around this. The table was almost silent after Natalie left, and even I didn¡¯t feel the need to break it. Thomas ate nothing I gave him. He left without a word when the bell rang, and I watched him leave.


    I got home and called Natalie to apologize for¡­ something. I don¡¯t know what. She accepted my apology, and I don¡¯t think even she knew what I was talking about. Then I called Thomas. He didn¡¯t pick up.


    I lit some matches in the kitchen while I waited for my mother to come home from the grocery store. I held my hand over the flame for as long as I could. It hurt minimally. I felt normal again afterwards.


    Joshua


    February 14, 1/4


    Happy Valentine¡¯s Day! This is my favorite holiday. I got candies for every girl in my grade, mostly fancier chocolate bars, and something for each of my friends. Natalie gets a heart shaped box of chocolates, Jonathan a smaller box, and Adam a picture of the pope with a fork and knife (I thought it would be funny). Adam instead twisted my arm behind my back nearly to the point of breaking. I didn¡¯t cry uncle or whatever it is he wanted to do, but I did threaten to tell his girlfriend about his activities at the parties we¡¯ve been to. He let go after that, but I still have bruises. Natalie turned bright red when I gave her the chocolate, though she already had chocolates from two other admirers. Jonathan just ate his greedily and barely thanked me. My gift for Thomas will have to wait for another time, because he wasn¡¯t at school today. I¡¯ve scanned it here for safekeeping. Not my best work, but I was hoping he would appreciate it.


    I can¡¯t help but feel as though he may be avoiding me after yesterday. But I don¡¯t think that is the case. I hope he is okay.


    Joshua


    February 15, 1/4


    I came over to Thomas¡¯s house after school. I waited outside his door with a box of chocolates. I didn¡¯t know what else to bring. They were on sale. I don¡¯t know. I arrived, and after ringing the bell, his father answered. He was dressed in a wife beater with sweat stains, holding a beer. He smelled acrid. He slammed the door in my face and screamed that ¡°your f@g friend is here¡±, to which Thomas appeared, hands covered in rubber gloves and dish soap, scowling. I smiled meekly and offered him the chocolates. He only frowned more deeply. I apologized for everything, and I think I may have begged, and asked if we could remain friends. He looked at me, and this expression passed over his face, and he started crying. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, and when I recovered from my shock, I held him in return. Looking at his soft, downy black hair, another unfortunate urge came over me to bury my face in his hair and inhale. He must of felt my discomfort, and he let go. He took my chocolates, and we went back to my car to sit down and talk. As the music played from my speakers, another disgusting feeling came over me. I felt nauseous, anxious, my heart felt light and like it was in the wrong place in my body. My face felt hot. Whatever the feeling is, it was awful. I told Thomas that my mother needed me back at the house, and he smiled and wished me luck. Luck with what? People are strange. I went home and took a cold shower for longer than necessary, and after laying in bed looking at the ceiling for a few hours, I have decided I better write this down while it is still fresh. I don¡¯t think I can go to the doctor for this, whatever it is. I looked through Grey¡¯s Anatomy again, and it helped distract me with an equally unsettling feeling. Still can¡¯t sleep.


    Joshua


    February 18, 1/4


    Another bender at Adam¡¯s. It was fine until the cops were called. I parked far away enough for them to not get my license plate, but running through the woods at night was not an enjoyable experience. Sadie and I ended up deep in the woods behind his house, and I could tell she was lost. I wasn¡¯t actually sure of where we were, but I felt I knew the way out. Leading her out was easy enough, though she held my hand the whole time. It was warm. I wondered what Thomas¡¯s hand felt like and immediately regretted taking hers. The cops were watching the edge of the forest near Adam¡¯s, so obviously we couldn¡¯t go back the way we came. We exited on the west side of the forest, and made the way to her ride. Who wasn¡¯t there. He¡¯d apparently made it home without her, the asshole. I brought her over to my car, and she seemed really nervous, constantly checking around us. I stopped walking and saw a figure behind us. It was tall, over 6¡¯5¡±, just. Hovering. It stopped moving when I looked back. Chills ran over my spine as I looked where the eyes should be and saw inky blackness. I¡¯m not sure if it was a person or not, it was too dark to tell. I knew not to give chase. I kept walking calmly until we got to my car. It was closer by the time we arrived, clearly watching us. She didn¡¯t seem to see it. I started the car, put on some music, and drove her home, joking with her to get her to feel more comfortable. I didn¡¯t see anything follow us after that, but I felt like we were being watched. I waited in the car until she was inside, and pulled out of her driveway and onto the road. I refused to look in the seat next to me the entire drive, staring straight ahead, eventually making it home. I sat in the car for a bit. I got out and went here again so that I could write this down. I can still feel it, watching. The air is electric.


    Joshua


    February 20, 1/4


    I invited Thomas over again. We played doom, and we discussed the importance of Dante¡¯s inferno. He mentioned his little sister¡¯s birthday is coming up. He was talking about saving money to get her a gift, and this odd compulsion came over me to help him get the money he needed. This has to be unhealthy. I cannot keep feeling this way. Whatever it is, it¡¯s a problem. All these confusing feelings are overwhelming and I can¡¯t deal with them on my own. Maybe I should talk to my mother. She would understand.


    Joshua


    February 24, 1/4


    I spoke to my mother this morning about the strange nausea, the heart palpitations, the bizarre urges I was feeling, and she smiled kindly and told me that I was in love. I felt cold. Being in love goes directly against everything I plan to do in my life. At least if I loved a girl I could do something about it. But Thomas? If I ever even hinted at liking Thomas my entire life would come crashing down into chaos. I don¡¯t think Thomas would ever accept someone like me, anyways - not the real me. The me who collects anatomical illustrations for dark nights, the me who wants to see men gutted, the me who - well, I shouldn¡¯t say that here, even with a password. I have a fate that has already been decided for me, and Thomas must not figure into it. I can be friends with him while I am in highschool, but that is all I can do. I need to crush this affection for him until I am normal again. I can¡¯t live like this. I hope he doesn¡¯t notice.


    Joshua


    February 25, 1/4


    My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua, I am 15 and I am safe in my home. My name is Joshua my name is joshua my name is joshua my name is joshua my name is joshua my na


    February 25, 1/4


    Everything hurts. Why won¡¯t my dad leave me alone?


    February 25, 1/4


    Decaying flesh tightening under the hot sun, creaking over brittle bones as it shrinks under the gaze of the lord. The mouth creaks open to display an eternal shriek of agony, lips cracking and peeling. I look upon it, satisfied with my own work. It is beautiful.


    February 25, 1/4


    Today I gave the image to Thomas. I thought I might as well get rid of it, so I don¡¯t have to see it anymore. He seemed confused by the gift but still grateful. I didn¡¯t mention what it was for. It seems like a terrible idea now. I can¡¯t stand to have him look at me.


    Joshua


    February 26, 1/4


    Natalie said that I was beautiful today. She was trying to flirt with me, I think. I told her the same, but when I went home to look at myself. I couldn¡¯t find it in me to agree. I invited Thomas over, but father said that I ought to invite over a real boy like Adam. I did so reluctantly. Adam wanted to play football in my yard, and it was a tedious chore to do so. He tackled me more times than strictly necessary. I think I heard something crack, but the pain is slight. He exhausted me. All I could think about was how I¡¯d rather be with Thomas or maybe Natalie. Or alone. I want to be alone.


    Joshua


    February 28


    Terrible month.


    Joshua

 March, Year One of Four

    March 1, 1/4


    This is when my mother met dad 17 years ago. She tells me this frequently, when we¡¯re alone together. She¡¯s so proud to have known him. I wish I could tell her the truth.


    Joshua


    March 2, 1/4


    I had a dream last night. Thomas and I were walking together in a garden, holding hands. He laughed when I told him we weren¡¯t supposed to do that, and when I pulled away his face fell and he looked away. The garden lost some of its color, the flowers wilted. I left him there and walked outside of the garden. An infinite and dark city stood outside of the garden, stretching for miles in any direction I looked. Where it was warm in the garden, it was cold here, and damp. I closed my eyes to shut it out, and when I opened them again I was alone in my room, which was stretched and distorted. I can¡¯t remember the rest of the dream, except the acute sense of fear.


    When I got to school, I had not forgotten the dream, and when I laid my hand on Thomas¡¯s shoulder, he flinched. I smiled through the urge to squeeze and released him. He smiled meekly in return and fiddled with his hands. I¡¯m not sure who I¡¯m more disgusted with, myself or him. How can he make me feel this way? What did he do to me? What did I do wrong to deserve this? How did I fail this badly?


    Joshua


    March 4, 1/4


    I overheard some girls talking about prom today - I think they are on the planning committee, seniors. They were arguing over the theme - Garden of Eden or Prohibition. I have no idea how they¡¯d get ¡°prohibition¡± as a theme in a catholic school, though it does sound interesting. Garden of Eden is a bit too boring, though, and it would be inviting people to show up covered with leaves. Either way, I thought I¡¯d write it down. When the time comes, I¡¯m going to ask Natalie.


    Joshua


    March 5, 1/4


    Thomas looked rough today. He had marks around his wrists like someone had grabbed him, and his hair was unkempt. His uniform was all crooked, too. It was¡­ concerning to see. I wonder if there¡¯s something I should do.


    Natalie was talking about a choir performance she¡¯s going to do later this spring and how she¡¯s excited because one song is secular and another is in Latin. I¡¯m glad to hear it, though the Latin is an interesting choice. I wonder if they will be able to pronounce it correctly?


    Joshua


    March 7, 1/4


    Thomas asked if he could stay over at my house. He¡¯s here now, sleeping on my floor. Apparently, his aunt took in his sister for the week and his father has been increasingly irritable ever since. He came in with a bruise under his eye. I think I¡¯m beginning to understand better why he¡¯s always at my house. Unfortunately, he¡¯s very cute when he sleeps - he curls up very much like an old cat and is clinging to the pillow for comfort. I can¡¯t say why I brought him over despite everything. My mother must be correct. He messed with my head and I¡¯m often left not knowing what to do around him. I hope he doesn¡¯t have any nightmares. I¡¯m going to bed.


    Joshua


    March 8, 1/4


    I woke up in the middle of the night to Thomas shaking and whimpering. I checked that he was still asleep and gently shook his shoulder. When he saw me, he let out a cry like a wounded animal, like I was frightening. I must be. He apologized for waking me but I told him I didn¡¯t mind. When I asked him what he was dreaming of, that frightened look returned to his face. It couldn¡¯t have been pleasant. I wonder if he saw my dad there. He shook his head and laid back down, and so did I. He faked sleep until about 4. I didn¡¯t sleep at all. I watched the shadows in my room twist and contort until the morning light vanquished them, and then I got up to help my mother with breakfast.


    He came down right as breakfast was ready, fully dressed. I felt underdressed in my home for the first time in ages. I handed him a mug of English breakfast and set him a plate without speaking, not wanting to disturb him. He didn¡¯t seem to talk much, either. He looked exhausted. My mother kept shooting me these surprised and then knowing looks, like she¡¯s onto it. I have fucked up irreparably. We ate in silence, and my mother handed him his washed and pressed uniform. That broke him out of his stupor as he began to scrub at his eyes, and I looked away. I got up to my room and got dressed.


    The rest of the day was not worth mentioning. I just stayed near him. The bruise has not faded yet.


    Joshua


    March 10, 1/4


    Driving to school with Thomas was interesting. He was hesitant about my music tastes at first, when we got in the car, but after the second song I saw him nodding along to the music. I think he was worried it was blasphemous. I¡¯m not sure it is, but either way it makes no difference to me.


    When we got to school, I got a lot of stares. People were wondering why I had come out of the same car as him. I¡¯m lucky they don¡¯t know he was over at my house, and he will be until his dad¡¯s less of a bastard, I hope. It¡¯s hard enough on both of us to have people thinking we¡¯re friends.


    We split up after that, and I met up with my other friends, Natalie and Jonathan. They were having some kind of disagreement when I showed up, which they continued to have in front of me. Natalie insisted to me that Jonathan¡¯s system of rating women¡¯s appearances was flawed if she ranked below a five. Jonathan insisted it was not. I commented that Jonathan was clearly being an asshole and that his system shouldn¡¯t exist, anyways. Natalie seemed to take it as a compliment.


    Maybe I¡¯ve been looking at this the wrong way. Maybe instead of trying to simply destroy my strange feelings for Thomas, I should try redirecting them towards Natalie. Natalie is smart, charming, courageous, beautiful, and funny. Thomas is just¡­ well, he¡¯s smart, but he¡¯s nothing special, right? Natalie is clearly the better choice for countless reasons. And she probably likes me. If this works out, I will no longer have to worry about my image or anything like it. I hope it does.


    Joshua


    March 11, 1/4


    Thomas returned home today. He was extremely nervous to do so, and I could tell he did not want to. I was tempted to offer him more time, but I was afraid that it would only encourage my unhealthy feelings. I hugged him goodbye, and he actually clung to me, wouldn¡¯t let go for long enough that my mother looked concerned. I simply held him in return until he was ready. I felt that urge again, and went to my room to flip through Gray¡¯s Anatomy. It almost helped.


    I need to talk more with Natalie tomorrow, see if this idea will bear any fruit. She¡¯s wonderful, she has to be the answer to this. If I won''t like Natalie, I probably won¡¯t like any girl.


    Joshua


    March 12, 1/4


    I spoke to Natalie yesterday, and tried to gauge her reactions. I touched her more, one the shoulder, her hands, and she seemed to reciprocate. I ignored my own discomfort in favor of reminding myself why I was doing this, why Natalie was the perfect girl and I should be choosing her. It worked, for a moment, when she flashed me one of her brilliant smiles - until I remembered Thomas¡¯s own meek sort of grimace. I don¡¯t know how the two can even truly compare in my mind, but something about Thomas is¡­ unique, even if only I see him that way.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    I spoke to Thomas today. He seems to be surviving, if nothing else. He doesn''t have any physical bruises, but he seems exhausted. I gave him my chocolate pudding that my mother made, but I know that won¡¯t be enough. Hopefully his father will calm down, and Thomas will be fine.


    Joshua


    March 13, 1/4


    Thomas called me last night. He was not fine. His father had told him he was kicking Thomas out. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to think of a solution. When I tried offering foster care, he refused on the basis of getting separated from his sister. I couldn¡¯t understand why he wouldn¡¯t help himself, but I kept from saying that out loud. I offered to take him in, give him a place to stay, but he said he didn¡¯t want to impose on my mother. He didn¡¯t mention my father at all. I asked him what he was planning to do, then. I sounded angry. I never sound angry. He replied that he¡¯d ¡°figure it out¡±. If it comes down to living on the streets or something, I¡¯ll find him. I¡¯ll make sure he¡¯s safe. I have to.


    Joshua


    March 15, 1/4


    Thomas¡¯s father took it back, like saying that to your child means nothing. Thomas will now get the luxury of staying in that shithole until his father turns on him again. I hate him. I hate that man. If I could hurt him and get away with it, I would.


    I brought Natalie some fake gold hair clips. She put them in graciously and they looked beautiful in her box braids. She¡¯s so beautiful it¡¯s ridiculous, like someone had designed her to be as breathtaking as possible. Unfortunately, it¡¯s not my breath she¡¯s taking - though much of the male part of the class seems to have a crush on her. I told her she looked gorgeous and she turned so red she couldn¡¯t respond. I just smiled. She really does look gorgeous, something Thomas may never be. But does it really fucking matter?


    Joshua


    March 17, 1/4


    I invited Jonathan over to my house today, which turned out to be a good idea. He dragged me to my room, barely letting my mother pamper us, and closed the door to announce his grand plan to win Freshman Prom Prince, which nearly made me laugh. He¡¯s popular, but not that popular. I pointed that out to him, and he got a little indignant. He replied that he has a fantastic campaign in the works and he just needs the right friend to help him with it. I saw where he was going. I offered to help him write any text for it or help with the posters. He replied that he ¡°already has a guy on the posters¡±, but that he saw my scores on the most recent essay in English and knows I¡¯d be a good fit.


    Thomas still seems shaken from what his father said to him, but I don¡¯t know how to help. I asked my mother if I could pack some extra food. When I gave it to him, he seemed a little too grateful - he started tearing up and refused to meet my eyes. That¡¯s fine. I¡¯m just glad he¡¯s willing to accept my help in the first place.


    Joshua


    March 19, 1/4


    I joined Jonathan at lunch. The kid who made the posters met up with us briefly to hand them over - not much text on them, just a photo of Jonathan in an overly theatrical prom tux, with some good solid blocks of colors behind him. The slogan was pretty basic, too, something he had gone ahead with without asking me first - ¡°Vote for Jonathan Harrow!¡±. Not exactly the best marketing that I¡¯ve ever seen. Our posters look better than any other candidates¡¯ at the moment, however, considering theirs were mostly just a random photo of them with a very similar slogan. I told Jonathan that with a little text, we could probably actually get him to win. His eyes lit up - he was rather excited, for sure.


    Then, as we were hanging up the posters, we saw another girl doing the same - but not just for Prom Princess. She was running for Prom Prince, too. She grinned wolfishly at us as Jonathan spotted her and started sputtering in his attempt to tell her off. I think her name is Cleo? She spends most of her class time cutting up magazines. I guess now I know why: she was making these collage style posters. It¡¯s pretty impressive. She ran off with her friend (Rosaline? Roseline?) and flipped us off as she went. I¡¯m honestly impressed by her guts. Jonathan threatened to tear her posters down, but I replied that the staff would likely do so themselves. It¡¯s really too bad, though. Maybe I should take one and scan it?


    Joshua


    March 24, 1/4


    Jonathan has been over at my place at least two more times for his candidacy. He¡¯s apparently very concerned about Cleo (who he called Chloe) winning Prom Prince. I¡¯m not sure why - the faculty will not allow her to be Prom Prince no matter how many posters she puts up - but it does mean he got serious about me helping him. He watched as I wrote an ad for the school paper and critiqued my wording rather thoroughly. He backed down on the phrasing after I explained it each time. He seems a bit like a pushover who doesn¡¯t want to be a pushover. I asked why he was so concerned, and he got up in arms about how she had tried to run for Ninth Grade Class President, which Seth Chambers currently serves as. He got into a rather misogynistic spiel about how she¡¯d be a better treasurer or something and that women aren¡¯t suited for politics and I tuned him out.


    Cleo handed out Zines today. They were well made, and had about six pages of text inside. It was mostly pictures of women again, but there was a lot of political messaging inside. I managed to get one from the trash, but it¡¯s too thick to scan. Besides, I don¡¯t want my father finding the file of this - he¡¯d see the pin up girls on it and have an aneurysm. Still, I¡¯m keeping it for myself.


    Thomas has been doing alright. He was really excited to tell me how Cleo talked to him and gave him a zine, and I felt a strange spark of jealousy. It''s rare that anyone talks to him without degrading him, other than myself, and I think he¡¯s excited that someone else is giving him attention.


    Natalie is running for Ninth Grade Prom Princess. I¡¯m kind of proud of her. She¡¯s one of the most, if not the most, popular girl in our school, and I¡¯m hoping that she wins. She needs the confidence boost after her mother¡¯s been critiquing her weight and appearance so much. She deserves to win. I still need to ask her to prom, but that can wait. I should probably plan an elaborate way to ask her.


    Joshua


    March 25, 1/4


    Jonathan seems to be panicking. He seems convinced that Cleo is going to steal the Prom Prince title from him, even though I¡¯d say he¡¯s currently third most likely to win out of four candidates. I tried to reassure him by asking how many votes she got in the election, to which he replied that she got 15, being the third most popular candidate herself. He was apparently the second. I was surprised that she got any outside of her small circle of friends. He had me start writing for our own pamphlet, which is boring work, but whatever. I¡¯ll be finishing that soon.


    Adam is hosting another party tonight. I¡¯m heading over after I finish typing this up. I hope to spend this one with Natalie, Jonathan and Adam instead of just wandering between people. Parties are a chance to connect with people, and I don¡¯t want to waste another opportunity. Maybe we should be networking to get Natalie and Jonathan elected, though I hate to think of them having to tolerate each other for the duration of the dance. I wonder what Thomas would be like at a party. He¡¯d probably be a wallflower, honestly. I doubt he¡¯d enjoy them.


    Joshua


    March 26, 1/4


    The party was fine. Natalie drank a little bit, which made her more exuberant than normal. Adam did get blackout drunk, as he always does, and Jonathan attempted to campaign for Prom Prince after a few drinks, which I immediately advised him against doing. Overall I actually had an OK time. This one girl was very insistent on flirting with me, especially after giving me a few drinks (that I didn¡¯t really touch). She was strange, but not very threatening. I saw her talking to a few other people, but she left early. She did not seem actually interested in me. Anyways, she really angered Natalie after a while, and Natalie told the other girl to piss up a rope, which was amusing. The other girl didn¡¯t seem particularly offended. Natalie fell asleep on my shoulder after a while. It was really nice.


    Joshua


    March 29, 1/4


    Now I know why that girl seemed important. She was one of Cleo¡¯s friends. She was talking to Jonathan and I specifically to see if we¡¯d done any bullshit, and thanks to the party and Jonathan¡¯s proclivity to drinking at them she found something on him. It¡¯s not looking great. She found out that he hits on girls, which admittedly I was unaware of and is pretty low, and her and Cleo published it all in their zines. The fucking idiot. She didn¡¯t really get anything on me, so there¡¯s that to be glad about. I¡¯m beyond livid. I invited him over and tore him a new one about how he¡¯s behaving, which is the least he deserves, and told him to get his fucking shit together if he wants us to win. I can¡¯t believe I have to babysit this guy. If I get caught up in this I¡¯m going to move schools and have the whole thing expunged from my record. This is hell.


    Joshua


    March 30, 1/4


    After the initial uproar, things seem to have changed for Jonathan. Some guys are on his side, and even some girls, at least the ones who he didn¡¯t bother because he was intimidated by their popularity. I don¡¯t know why Cleo¡¯s zine wasn¡¯t more effective - what she said was true, and people have been talking about it. But some of the girls he harassed have denied it happening. I really don¡¯t understand why anyone would do that.


    Thomas asked me what I thought of Natalie today. I told him that I found her beautiful and charming, which is true. His ears were very pink as I talked about her, and he said that while she was beautiful, she was kind of a jerk. I laughed. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should agree with him or not, and he got rightfully mad at me, telling me to knock it off. I asked him why he wanted to know, and he quickly changed the subject. After he was done, I asked him if he wanted me to smooth things over between him and Natalie. He said that I could ¡°so long as it makes you happy¡±. I don¡¯t know what he means by that, but I made an attempt at lunch after him and I ate together. Natalie told me that I could ¡°keep the freak away¡±, and for a moment I felt angry. I rarely feel angry. I calmly explained to her that if she was going to share her friends with me I didn¡¯t see why I couldn¡¯t share mine with her, and she acted surprised that I even considered Thomas a friend. Well, what the fuck else would he be, a pet? I told her that either she could play nice or she wouldn¡¯t be seeing me during lunch because I happen to like friendly people. She rolled her eyes. Jesus Christ.


    Joshua

 April, Year One of Four

    April 2, 1/4


    Jonathan and I came to a decision. We only have two weeks left, so we¡¯ve already started redesigning our pins and posters. I¡¯m going to have to be ninth grade prom prince. What a blow. This role suits me much more, anyways. This should lead to us cornering the votes much more easily.


    Natalie thought she¡¯d pull an April Fool¡¯s prank on me yesterday. She told me that she had forgiven Thomas. I asked her what she could possibly forgive him for, and that wiped the amused look right off her face. She told me that he¡¯d embarrassed her by sitting with her, and I asked her on what planet that was embarrassing, deadpan. She told me to fuck off and sat at a different table. A few of her friends followed her. Thomas luckily didn¡¯t hear any of it.


    Joshua


    April 3, 1/4


    Natalie called me tonight. She apologized without any meaning behind it and asked if we could be friends again. I didn¡¯t know we¡¯d broken off that relationship, but I moved past that. Sure. We¡¯re friends still, so that¡¯s¡­ nice. I think Natalie will eventually move past this strange thing with Thomas. Maybe she¡¯ll even make an effort to be nice to him one day. I sure fucking hope so.


    Jonathan got in the fixed campaign posters, and we hung them up over the old ones. Hopefully that¡¯s enough to fix it and it¡¯s not too late. Cleo confronted me in the hallway today, asked me what I thought I was doing. I told her we were changing candidates. She rolled her eyes and moved on. Turns out she had a new zine for our classmates. Hopefully that doesn¡¯t completely screw us over.


    Joshua


    April 5, 1/4


    Shockingly, Cleo¡¯s zines did not reveal any new or horrifying information. People have started throwing her zines in the trash. I feel a bit bad about that, but there¡¯s nothing I can do. I¡¯ve kept the zines I¡¯ve been given under my bed, alongside my sketchbook and¡­ more private books. Grey¡¯s anatomy, mostly, and a few other medical texts. I¡¯d rather my father not find out about those. God forbid he realizes what they¡¯re for, or worse, thinks I want to become a doctor. Last thing I need is exposure to real organs. As¡­ exhilarating as the thought is, I don¡¯t think it¡¯d be very ethical.


    Thomas asked if I knew anything about a party happening next weekend. Not wanting to lie to him, I told him yes. He looked genuinely shocked, then asked me if I was going. I told him yes again. He asked me what the hell I thought I was doing there. I told him that I was doing what I wanted, which happened to be very little alcohol and no drugs. He just kind of pushed my shoulder with irritation rather than teasing, and huffed. I found myself wishing he¡¯d touch me more, not even in a sexual context. What the hell is fucking wrong with me.


    Joshua


    April 7, 1/4


    Thomas asked me about my progress with getting Natalie not to be a complete basket case, during religious studies. Not in those words, of course - he was much nicer about it. I told him that there had been progress, but not much. He nodded, and then he told me that Natalie had confronted him. He pulled me back into my seat and told me that she had apologized. What. I told him that was wonderful, and I was glad we had made some progress. In fact, it is very suspicious and I¡¯m almost concerned. I¡¯ve never really been concerned.


    Joshua


    April 9, 1/4


    Thomas is needlessly beautiful. He reminds me of some kind of angel, and I know I¡¯ve said it before but it¡¯s true. He¡¯s the most beautiful thing I¡¯ve ever seen. I was taking him grocery shopping (his dad left him with some money and Thomas needed a ride) and watching him pick out the cut of a fucking chicken was the softest thing I¡¯ve ever seen. It was like we were a couple, just like any other, trying to pick out what to eat for the week, not having to worry about kids stealing his fucking lunch or my dad. It was unspeakably nice. His hair is so soft, his eyes are so warm. I hate that I love him.


    We ran into Cleo. She grinned and ran over to Thomas (he was a few feet away from me) and hugged him tightly. Apparently, they¡¯ve gotten close quickly. Thomas was a touch pink and quite happy to see her. She was all smiles and quips until she saw me. I might have been staring. She called me a walking nightmare and said I needed a haircut. I told her she should consider brushing her hair. Thomas told us both to knock it off, but he glared at me as he said it. Cleo was quick to return to teasing us both, though she was on my case far more than Thomas¡¯s. When we left the store, Thomas tried to apologize for her and explain that she liked to jokingly insult people. I said she was fine. Privately, I think that she might take it too far and actually hurt Thomas. I hope not.


    Joshua


    April 10, 1/4


    This past week has gone well for Jonathan and my campaign. There were no further tricks from Cleo and her friends, and her pamphlets are still ending up in the trash. I¡¯ve been keeping the new pamphlets I find and adding them to my collection. They¡¯re¡­ fun. They may disparage myself and Jonathan alongside other candidates, but the artistic choices are fascinating. There are a lot of scantily clad women in them, a lot of greek goddesses and nymphs. I guess she likes classical art, but there are also old pinups. It¡¯s like a strange feminist advertising campaign, the way these women are depicted by Cleo. It¡¯s something to marvel at.


    I¡¯ve not made much progress investigating why Natalie changed her tune with Thomas. I called her last night to ask about it, but it went nowhere. She was insistent that while she wasn¡¯t fully sorry, she did feel a bit bad about how she treated him, citing that he is ¡°just another student¡± and she didn¡¯t need to waste her energy on him. She said if I¡¯m going to be so insistent on being his friend, she may as well make nice with him. It made sense, but¡­ something feels really off. Something is definitely wrong.


    I¡¯ve mostly been talking to Jonathan and Adam lately, along with Natalie being in my general orbit, but I¡¯ve decided to start hanging out with Thomas after school. It gives him an excuse to not have to come home to that piece of shit calling itself a father, and it gives me the excuse to try a new way of getting over this stupid crush. Exposure therapy. My perception of Thomas can¡¯t be realistic or accurate, so perhaps spending more time with him will get me to realize that he¡¯s less than I believe he is. I hope it does.


    Joshua


    April 12, 1/4


    I forgot something important. Prom is a week and a half from today. Technically, this shouldn¡¯t be much of a problem - I have plenty of time to ask Natalie, and plenty of money to make asking her something special. But I¡¯d still rather go with Thomas. There¡¯s no way I could even go out with Thomas on a date, much less to a stupidly important event like prom, not in this lifetime. But even going as friends would be¡­ nice. But asking him as a friend would require, well, not asking Natalie. So I¡¯m going to ask Natalie. But if I were to ask Thomas¡­


    I¡¯d probably get him a bouquet. It¡¯s a good gift, good enough for any sort of romantic gesture, depending on the price. If it was for him, it¡¯d have forget-me-nots, tulips, and daffodils, all spring flowers. Actually, since those are all blooming soon, that wouldn¡¯t be too hard. White and yellow tulips, multiple daffodils of course, pink and white hyacinths, and maybe some ferns to fill it out.


    I think I¡¯ll give Natalie a bouquet of pink roses. It should be appropriate. I¡¯ll do it tomorrow.


    Joshua


    April 13, 1/4


    Natalie kissed me.


    It was just on the cheek. It was¡­ interesting, I think. She hugged me as well, but that felt less important. It felt a lot better than when Marianne kissed me, sure, but also¡­ worse, at the same time. I actually like Natalie, as a person. She¡¯s smart, maybe smarter than me, and she enjoys intellectual stuff. She¡¯s also far funnier than I am. And she kissed me. And that¡¯s kind of what¡¯s supposed to happen, sure, but¡­ damn.


    Jonathan¡¯s and my race is coming to a close. It looks like our victory is secured, though I don¡¯t want to call it too soon. Cleo¡¯s campaign has ratcheted up a notch, however; she¡¯s now hanging paintings. They¡¯re all red, black, and white propagandistic posters that remind me of stuff from the soviet union, paintings of women holding up banners and arguing for the freedom of the students of Westpoint Catholic. It¡¯s kind of intimidating. They look way better than the ones Jonathan made that kid design.


    The bouquet was cheap anyways.


    Joshua


    April 15, 1/4


    It¡¯s the night before the votes are counted. Jonathan tried to make a joke about rigging the election (something about Nixon, too) and I told him to not even dream of it. I don¡¯t play dirty. I¡¯m really anxious, but I¡¯m excited as well. I know we¡¯re going to win for prom prince, and I know that we¡¯re going to go up in the social ladder, but I¡¯m worried about how Cleo and Roseline will react when they lose. Will Cleo launch a massive smear campaign? What if her friend starts to hound us at parties? At the very least, I hope she¡¯s not upset. I don¡¯t care as much as I should about these things, but she seems really invested. I hope she¡¯s alright.


    Natalie has started to refer to me as her ¡°guy¡± with her close friends, and they all give me these weirdly secretive and amused looks. I don¡¯t like it, but I¡¯m not sure what to do. Being her ¡°guy¡± is the right move for my image, but not for our friendship, clearly. I don¡¯t want to be her boyfriend? Not yet, anyways. I want to see if I can like her that way, first. I don¡¯t want a repeat of what happened with Marianne. But I¡¯m not sure what to do in the meantime. She¡¯s not calling me her boyfriend yet, so I¡¯ll let things stay as they are until I can figure out a solution.


    Wish me luck.


    Joshua


    April 17, 1/4


    Jonathan and I won. Thomas congratulated me at school. He seemed really excited, actually, like I had accomplished something major. I suppose this will be good for my future career, to get some experience now, but the way I won prom prince did not feel satisfying. Thomas actually hugged me, me. Natalie also hugged me, later, when Thomas wasn¡¯t around. Jonathan was jealous of me getting so much attention, but Adam attempted to squeeze him to death, so that¡¯s nice.


    Natalie won prom princess, as she should. She is objectively the most gorgeous girl in the entire school, and she deserves everything. We¡¯ll be on stage together to give our little speeches. We¡¯re also required to dance together, which should be fun.


    I¡¯ve been feeling more and more disconnected from everything lately, and I¡¯ve been looking at Grey¡¯s Anatomy more often. I know I¡¯m going to have a nightmare soon, maybe tonight. I¡¯m certainly not excited for that.


    Thomas¡¯s eyes were on his backpack a lot today, and he seemed nervous when he looked through his locker. There¡¯s either something he¡¯s guarding or something he¡¯s guarding himself from. I¡¯ll keep an eye on him.


    Joshua


    April 19, 1/4


    I tried to invite Adam over to please my father, but Adam said he already had plans with Abraham. Abraham is the star football player for our school, and he seems to be genuinely skilled, but he¡¯s less popular than Adam. I think it¡¯s due to his more standoffish and sarcastic personality. Adam is unfunny and rude, but he does try to get people to like him. Abraham, on the other hand, will insult people if they get on his nerves. I haven¡¯t interacted with him much, so I can¡¯t judge whatsoever, but that¡¯s my theory.


    I had Thomas over instead for a sleepover, which usually is fine. But my father has started to take issue with him. He told me on Friday that Thomas ¡°is a bit of a pansy¡±, which certainly is a collection of words. I told him that Thomas was a perfectly normal student. He told me to watch my tongue if I wanted to stay at the dinner table, so I did. He didn¡¯t say much else about Thomas, though.


    Thomas is over tonight, but my father has taken particular interest in him. He keeps asking him questions about school and what sports he¡¯s in. Thomas, naturally, answered that he isn¡¯t in any sports, but that he¡¯s hoping to establish a chess club next year. My father seemed surprised by this for a moment, and then immediately disappointed. I don¡¯t see why the fuck he¡¯d think chess is unmasculine or whatever it is he wants to see, but he sees it anyways. I told my father about how Thomas is at the top of our class, something I may or may not have looked up by charming the secretary, and both were surprised, though Thomas less so. My mother changed the subject.


    Thomas has taken an interest in my computer, so I showed him more DOOM, but he said he was more interested in the writing capabilities. I told him about my diary and I am currently praying that he doesn¡¯t figure out the password to unlock it when I¡¯m asleep. He was also curious about how I knew he was at the top of the class, saying he¡¯d only just found out himself. I replied that it was just an educated guess, but I was happy to hear that I was right. He gave me a puzzled but not unhappy look.


    This sleepover has gone a lot better than the last few. I don¡¯t feel nearly as massive a creep as I usually do when he¡¯s over. It¡¯s nice to be with him.


    Joshua


    April 20, 1/4


    After Thomas left with my mother to drive back to his house, something she oddly suggested, my father pulled me aside. He said that I ought to grow up and stop having sleepovers. I felt the urge to protest, but he¡¯s right - I¡¯m fifteen. I shouldn¡¯t be having sleepovers at fifteen, and I haven¡¯t honestly done them in quite a while. But doing them gives Thomas an excuse to get out of his shitty house, and another excuse for us to become closer. I¡¯m not sure what to do. What if word gets out and I lose my status at school? What if that¡¯s the reason Adam refused to hang out with me? It¡¯s embarrassing. I should be ashamed of myself for doing something so childish for so long.


    I had a nightmare last night. It was¡­ gory. Dark figures hovering over Thomas and I as I dug into his flesh with my hands. It was visceral, and it looked so real that when I woke up I half expected Thomas to be bleeding out on the floor. It¡¯s pathetic. I shouldn¡¯t let these dreams get to me anymore, I should be used to them by now. Everything¡¯s just¡­ wrong, again.


    Joshua


    April 22, 1/4


    Natalie has been really sweet, lately, and it¡¯s been nice. She¡¯s a very charming, beautiful, and funny girl, and I¡¯m very glad to have met her. Prom¡¯s on the 24th, and she¡¯s going to take me shopping for a matching vest for my tux, and she also wants to have matching corsages. The color she¡¯s picked is this soft yellow with baby pink accents, and while I¡¯m not exactly embarrassed to be seen wearing it, I am a little concerned that I¡¯ll come down a notch from my social standing. But it¡¯s fine.


    I¡¯m also concerned that Natalie is going to kiss me, and that I won¡¯t respond correctly. I¡¯ve kissed girls before, and it¡¯s never really had any effect on me, but this time I need it to.


    I don¡¯t want to like Thomas. Maybe we can be friends, but that¡¯s all we can be. I don¡¯t want to bring him any closer to me. Besides, if I¡¯m really being honest with myself, I know he likes girls. The way he acts about Natalie or Cleo sometimes is proof enough. I don¡¯t need Thomas. I need Natalie.


    Thomas has been hiding his backpack under his desk, and he¡¯s even asked if he could store his backpack in my locker. I said yes, and he looked¡­ really relieved. Something is happening. Either he¡¯s afraid of someone fucking with his stuff or someone is fucking with his stuff. I¡¯ll figure it out for him.


    Joshua


    April 23, 1/4


    Thomas asked me today if we were going to have a sleepover this weekend. I told him that I can¡¯t, that I¡¯m busy with prom. He looked a little hurt, but he hid it well. I wish I could talk to someone about this.


    I asked the security guard if anyone¡¯s reported anything stolen, but he told me to mind my business. I told him that I could inform the principal that he¡¯s been selling cigarettes to kids in my grade, and he relented, but the answer was still no. So if someone¡¯s stealing from Thomas, he isn¡¯t telling anyone, and I¡¯m not risking expulsion by asking for the tapes from the cameras. All I accomplished was making enemies with the security guard.


    Natalie is extremely excited for prom, and we¡¯ve both been invited to an afterparty at Adam¡¯s place. I¡¯m surprised the guy can throw so many parties. His parents must be really absent. Anyways, Natalie has been going on and on about how great I look in my newly purchased vest, and she kissed my cheek to ¡°reward me for good behavior¡± after I sat through her getting her dress tailored that last tiny bit. This is going to be fine.


    Joshua


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    April 24, 1/4


    I went to prom. It was in the gym rather than another location, since it was only for 9th and 10th graders, not that I mind. The theme ended up being Garden of Eden. Adam did in fact tape a paper leaf to the crotch of his pants, but thankfully a teacher stepped in and told him to knock it off before it ruined anyone¡¯s night. Probably would have fallen off anyways.


    I saw Thomas there. He wasn¡¯t wearing a suit or tux like some of us, but he was wearing this very thick cable knit that in practicality smothered him. There was a hole in his jeans at the knee, a small one, must have just split because he didn¡¯t seem to notice it. He was gripping his cup and hanging back by the wall like I thought he would, not talking to anyone or saying anything. He was watching, though. We caught each other''s eyes from across the room, and he looked like he was going to step out to talk to me, but he must have rethought it. Cleo approached him shortly thereafter. They seemed to have fun.


    Being prom prince was fairly easy. I received my crown at the beginning of the night, and so did Natalie. I gave a speech about being grateful for everyone¡¯s votes and Natalie spoke of how she always dreamed of being prom royalty. Then we had our dance together, us and the other candidates, a slow dance. Natalie kissed my cheek after it was done, holding it there for a moment. She seemed emboldened. After that I danced with her most of the night, occasionally leaving her so she could talk to her friends and I to mine. Adam and Jonathan were as awful as they always are, and kept making insinuations about Natalie, and it made me¡­ angry. I don¡¯t often feel angry. I left them behind and rejoined her. We drank a lot of punch until we saw some kid spike it. I saw Thomas dancing with Cleo for a long time, and her group of friends seemed to take a liking to him.


    I want Thomas to have his own friends. I do. But Cleo¡¯s friends can¡¯t be trusted, not after how Roseline accosted Jonathan and I at that party. They would be just as quick to smear Thomas¡¯s name as they were to smear mine. Would they tell the whole school about his father? I wouldn¡¯t put it past them. They may be punks, but they still come from wealthy families, families that don¡¯t go through what Thomas goes through. They¡¯re fake. They¡¯ll tear him to shreds if I don¡¯t keep him safe. They certainly didn¡¯t keep him safe.


    Natalie kissed me. This time, it was not on the cheek. I imagine she was getting bored of dancing around the issue. I froze up for a horrible second, and I¡¯m terrified people saw that. They don¡¯t need to know about my abnormalities. They can¡¯t. There was a moment where I didn¡¯t know what to do, how to react. She had been giving me hints the entire night, she probably hates that I wasn¡¯t the one to make the first move, but I just froze. I made up my mind quickly enough that she didn¡¯t push me away. I kissed her back. I¡¯ve done it before, it wasn¡¯t exactly difficult. She pulled back with this glowing expression. We¡¯re probably dating now. It¡¯s fine.


    I walked Natalie back to her car, kissed her again, waved her off, and then I heard something behind the gym. I don¡¯t normally pursue strange noises, but I heard it a second time. It was Thomas, and it sounded like several other male classmates. It wasn¡¯t a great sign, I knew that. I ran over to the source of the noise and saw Thomas with his arms pinned behind his back, blood dripping from his lip, blood on his sweater. Three of the people who go to my school had cornered him next to the dumpster, were calling him names, had just been hitting him. They looked over at me, shit faced from whatever the fuck they¡¯d brought to prom and laughing.


    It¡¯s not like there were cameras. I could have done anything. I could have done anything. But instead I walked forward, pulled the one behind Thomas off of him. One of them grabbed me by the collar, and my elbow flew back, breaking his nose with a loud crunch. The blood was inconvenient. I probably will have to pay for the tux, which my father will be furious about. I¡¯ll lie about where it came from. Anyways, they backed off pretty quickly, not wanting to fight someone who hits back and hits hard. Thomas was leaning on me the entire way to the car.


    I checked Thomas¡¯s ribs for anything broken, but it was difficult with the thick sweater in the way. I asked him if I could pull it off, and he said yes. He was wearing a tank top underneath it, thank god, but he hissed when I applied any pressure. Nothing broken, though, only bruised at worst. Thomas refused to meet my eyes. I asked him where the fuck Cleo and her friends were, and he said she went home early. Why didn¡¯t he go home early? He was waiting for me. I love him. I love him and I hate those fucking people who touched him. I want to hit them with my fucking car slow enough to drag out their death, but fast enough to get them airborne. His nose didn¡¯t look good, and I could tell it had been broken before. But he would notice if it healed wrong. I offered to drive him to the hospital, but he was afraid that word would get back to the school. Fuck the school. Fuck these people.


    I drove him to my house. My parents were not waiting for me, already asleep. I brought Thomas to the bathroom, gave him some pain meds, and cleaned the blood off of him. There was blood on his lips, from both his nose and a cut there. I couldn¡¯t focus whenever my eyes wandered there. It was like the frog in seventh grade all over again, but this time it was truly beautiful. But those people had hurt him, if you can even still call them people. Zacharie Stone. Marcus Pietto. Lucas Sharpe.


    While I was wiping the blood off, he wanted to make small talk. He probably noticed how strange I was acting. He brought up Natalie. He said he saw our kiss, and that he was happy for me. I felt a dark disgust claw into my heart. He kept stuttering and stumbling over his words trying to celebrate me, as if I was important. I¡¯d call it idiotic, but it¡¯s Thomas. He¡¯s not stupid. It wasn¡¯t pathetic either. He¡¯s not something to be pitied. But it hurt that I had tricked him too. He¡¯s never going to know what I¡¯m like, and I¡¯m the reason why. It has to stay that way.


    Something was watching us as we walked back out to the car. I assumed at first that it was my father, but it was too tall and gangly. It¡¯s head slowly turned to follow him, swivelling like an owl. Thomas didn¡¯t seem to notice, but I did. I felt the urge to scare it off. It wouldn¡¯t have done anything.


    I got him home, and his father was either still awake or had left the lights on. I broke the lock on his window for him. That should keep him safe for tonight at least. God knows what will happen tomorrow. I didn¡¯t even ask him why they were attacking him. I¡¯m a fucking idiot. I¡¯ll call him first thing tomorrow.


    When I got home, my mother came down the stairs. Said she could feel that something was wrong with me. Asked me if things were alright with Natalie. When I said yes, she then asked about Thomas. I considered lying, I really did, but it would have been pointless. Just another way I could hurt someone. I told her that some boys had cornered him behind the gym. Her face softened as she asked me who was hurt. Just Thomas and Lucas. Does she need to call the police? No, it will just complicate things. She seemed to reluctantly accept that.


    I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I hate them I


    April 25, 1/4


    I saw my dad last night, in a dream of course. Told me things.


    I called Thomas first thing in the morning, hoping to god that his father wouldn¡¯t pick up the phone. Thomas answered, and his voice sounded rough. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was from sleep or another injury I had failed to account for. I asked if his father had said or done anything. He said his father told him he deserved it. The plastic of the phone creaked under my hand. I asked if he wanted to spend the day over at my place to avoid him, but he said his sister needed him right now. I don¡¯t know what that means. I hope she is okay.


    I looked up the families of the assholes who hurt Thomas in the phone book. I can call their parents if I need to, but they may not be familiar with me, so I would have to be careful. I should probably ask my mother to handle it. She could. I¡¯m thinking this may be related to Thomas¡¯s hiding of his backpack, but there¡¯s only so much I can do without going to the Westpoint building, which is closed on the weekends. Then Natalie called me.


    She was super excited to talk to me, absolutely gushing about last night and how it was perfect. She even complemented me over how much of a ¡°gentleman¡± I was. I listened and complemented her and told her about how beautiful and charming she is, but my mind was still on Thomas. When the conversation hit a significant lull, I gently told her about what happened to Thomas. She hummed and said that it wasn¡¯t the first time, Thomas had been getting cornered like that since middle school.


    What.


    She went on to say that she wasn¡¯t surprised it happened on Prom, and that Cleo probably just didn¡¯t know it was a pattern considering she transferred in about a month before I did, so it¡¯s not like she knew it was going to happen. Things like this just happen to Thomas.


    We went back to talking about anything other than Thomas and I wanted to bite through the phone cord. Eventually we exchanged pleasantries and hung up. I called Thomas again. He didn¡¯t answer.


    Joshua


    April 26, 1/4


    Made it to school today. Thomas was there, had a black eye that I hadn¡¯t seen before, must have either bruised fully after I cleaned him up or been given to him by his father. I didn¡¯t get the chance to ask because Natalie found me first. She hugged me, her arms around my neck, and that alone was enough to scare Thomas off. She later wanted to sit with me at lunch, obviously, and so I did. I didn¡¯t speak to Thomas during the school day, we didn¡¯t even have theology together.


    I didn¡¯t believe that it was just a coincidence that Lucas, Marcus, and Zacharie attacked Thomas. Something made them want to do it. They avoided me all day, but they clearly haven¡¯t told anyone yet. It would only bring to light what they did to Thomas. The school may not care regardless. Thomas is like the hen that the other chickens attack, tearing out his feathers because they can, and his caretakers let it happen because if they took him out of the equation another hen would take his place.


    I called Thomas when I got home, and he answered. I immediately asked if he knew why they attacked him. He dithered and said it didn¡¯t matter. I felt furious. He is the only thing that matters right now. I asked him again, anger shifting my voice. He eventually managed to say that it was related to his backpack, that they mentioned something about the security officer on campus, but he couldn¡¯t really remember what started it.


    Joshua


    April 27, 1/4


    Took a camera to school today. Got photos of Robert Stone (security officer) selling cigarettes to the sophomores and juniors. Downloaded them onto the file folder. Printing soon.


    Joshua


    April 28, 1/4


    I showed Lucas the images I took of Robert. Told him that if he and anyone he associates with didn¡¯t back off of Thomas I would show the faculty. He tried to grab it out of my hands, but I¡¯m tall enough that it was just a simple game of keep away until I told him to knock it the fuck off. What a child. His little group kept eyes on me for the rest of the day. If they attack me, I won¡¯t be surprised. I just won¡¯t keep anything valuable on me, including the photos. I made it clear to him that I¡¯m not afraid of them, but that if they hurt Thomas again, I¡¯ll make it a problem for them. I know enough to get each of them expelled, provided the school gives a shit.


    I think I¡¯ll ask Natalie to go on a date with me tomorrow. She would probably like that. I know a restaurant that is impressive but not so ritzy as to make her uncomfortable on my behalf. I¡¯ll pay. Hopefully she¡¯ll eat more while we¡¯re there, her mother hasn¡¯t let go of the athletic physique thing.


    Joshua


    April 29, 1/4


    Plans to ask Natalie out were interrupted. Lucas Sharpe and Zacharie Stone found me in the parking lot, said it was me or my car. Pretty obvious choice, though they had a pocket knife they seemed keen on using. Told them to leave the knife out of it and they could have their revenge. All I had to do was stand there for a few minutes while they made a big show of how strong they were. No fighting back, of course, Westpoint does have a Zero Tolerance policy. I¡¯m still bruised obviously, but they didn¡¯t bother my nose, so who gives a shit. I¡¯ll heal just fine.


    I went to the dean¡¯s office, told her what happened, and she called my mother. My mother was at the school in twenty minutes, and I was surprised as she hates driving. Soon Zacharie Stone and his mother along with Lucas Sharpe and his father were at the school. Lucas¡¯s nose was still broken, and both looked afraid. I cried innocently and retold the story with interjections from the two. Lucas tried to explain that I broke his nose, but the dean pointed out that his nose was already healing and that my blood was still fresh. I denied that I had ever touched him. I could tell my mother wanted to interject with the real reason this all happened, but I took out the photos I had been keeping of Robert Sharpe. I told the dean that I had seen Mr. Sharpe selling cigarettes while I was taking photos of the school, and that the two boys found out and weren¡¯t happy about it. She seemed seriously concerned. I could feel the two idiots¡¯ hatred for me, thick as a knife, as Mrs. Stone and Mr. Sharpe began yelling either at me or their son, sometimes interchangeably. My mother and I waited it out, and then I was asked to leave so that the dean could schedule a disciplinary meeting with the parents and students.


    I called Natalie after my mother took me home, told her that I¡¯d love to see her as soon as the swelling goes down. She was pissed, both at me and the other kids. Why would I let them hit me? Why was I going to these lengths for Thomas of all people? Too tired to really feel angry with her for the second question, I told her that we should just drop it. She did so reluctantly. I took a nap for a few hours, but my mother knocked on the door. Apparently Thomas had called.


    I answered the phone ringing I had slept through, and Thomas began to worry over me through the phone, asking me about my pain and injuries. I told him as well that it didn¡¯t bother me, but I didn¡¯t tell him why I had gone to all the trouble. He¡¯d just be angry with me. As he talked, this feeling came over me. It felt like pure affection, something I haven¡¯t felt since I was a little kid. It was¡­ weird. I just wanted to hold him, to be there with him, even comfort him. I changed the subject in the hopes that it would go away, asking him about his father. He said that his father keeps staring at him. He then asked me when my birthday was. Curious about the topic change, I told him December 25th. He pouted adorably about how he had missed my birthday and cracked a joke about presents on Christmas, but then told me his. May 12th. He asked if he should do anything. I failed to control myself and said he should have another sleepover with me. He seemed excited by the idea. We talked until I was too tired to continue, and then we hung up. I think I almost told him I love him.


    Ideas for what to get Thomas:


    Fiction book


    Scarf


    Sweater


    Knife/Pepper Spray


    Mythology book


    I had dinner in my room. Better to give my injuries time to heal than reveal them to my father.


    Joshua

 March, Year One of Four

    May 2, 1/4


    My family goes to church every Sunday. This should be obvious. I don¡¯t see many of my classmates at church, however, as my church is a little out of the way. It¡¯s the same one my mother went to when she was a kid, so it¡¯s not in the wealthier neighborhood. Technically, it¡¯s not even Catholic. The denomination is always left kind of vague. There are things like statues of Jesus and a priest¡¯s outfit, but the doctrine isn¡¯t quite the same. There is rarely a mention of protestantism or catholicism, and never a mention of the Pope. I don¡¯t know what it is, and I don¡¯t really care all that much. But this church is about halfway between my house and Thomas¡¯s. I only mention this because I saw Thomas and his sister Eliza at church today.


    Thomas and Eliza arrived together, but without their father. They sat in the back, late, as we began the hymn portion of the service. Eliza was silently crying, and Thomas was comforting her. I could still see the bruising from prom. I wanted to go over to them immediately, but was held in place by convention. After the service, my mother and I approached them immediately. My mother fretted over the two of them, asking them where their parents were. Thomas didn¡¯t tell her when prompted, maybe out of embarrassment or shame, but Eliza eventually said that her ¡°dad got mad at Thomas¡± and dropped them off at the church before driving away. Thomas looked uncomfortable enough to confirm it as the truth. My mother smiled at the two despite the concerned furrow in her brow before offering to take them home. Thomas opened his mouth to reply, but Eliza burst into frightened tears. I think my mother understood at once. She then offered to take them home with us. Eliza seemed a little reluctant, we are strangers to her after all, but Thomas accepted with relief.


    When we got to the car, I was burning with questions. Why did Thomas¡¯s father get mad? Why leave them at a church? Why at my church? But I couldn¡¯t ask him in front of Eliza. I didn¡¯t want to upset her. Eventually we arrived at my house. I went upstairs to clean my room (I¡¯ve been disorganized ever since prom) and Thomas eventually met me up there. I was almost done cleaning at that point, and Thomas played with the loose yarn of his sweater. I asked him what he wanted to talk about. He then told me why his father was so angry at him. He had told his father that he wanted to go to a catholic church, and his father drunkenly said that he wouldn¡¯t take Thomas to any kind of church, the people there are ¡°too judgmental¡±. I think the man¡¯s afraid of people learning what he does to his son. Thomas insisted, and the man exploded, packing his terrified children into a car and abandoning them at the church. I thanked him for telling me, my hands shaking. He asked if I was alright, but before I could respond, Eliza came in through the open door.


    I hadn¡¯t spoken to Eliza for more than a few pleasantries in the car and at church, but she seemed very comfortable around me. Children don¡¯t usually like me. She began flipping through my books, completely ignoring us. It was¡­ charming. I asked her if she was looking for something as Thomas tried to convince her to respect my privacy, and she told me she was looking for something to read. I smiled and handed her some book I had liked in third grade. Her eyes widened when she saw the small text and many pages, and she thanked me sincerely.


    My father was going to return home before dinner, and both my mother and I didn¡¯t really want to expose Eliza to his¡­ moods. My mother drove them to their aunt¡¯s house at Thomas¡¯s hesitant request. I¡¯m glad they¡¯re not spending the night with that piece of shit. She returned in time to get dinner ready, and my father kept his grumbling mostly to himself.


    I wish I could do something more¡­ concrete about Thomas and Eliza¡¯s father. Being forced to stand by as the man takes out his misery on his children is torture. But with the way things currently are, I don¡¯t have much of a choice - I can¡¯t take Thomas and Eliza in myself without angering my father, I can¡¯t report their father to CPS without risking their safety further, and I can¡¯t arrange for their aunt to take them in without some serious leverage. I¡¯ll have to think about it.


    My injuries are healed now, like they were never there. My father barely noticed my absence from the dinner table. He seemed to be glad of the break from my presence.


    Joshua


    May 3, 1/4


    I asked Natalie on that date today. I asked her if she¡¯d like to go to Nick¡¯s Italian on friday. She gave a very enthusiastic yes and joked that she thought I would never ask. I apologized for making it seem that way and she ruffled my hair. That was¡­ a surprisingly affectionate gesture. I was not expecting that.


    I couldn¡¯t decide what to get Thomas, so I went to one of the bookstores downtown, the better one. Golden Press always has whatever someone¡¯s looking for, though their children¡¯s section sometimes seems like an afterthought for the owner judging by the size. I found two books on mythology I thought Thomas would find interesting - one on Chinese mythology, which I think even for him is a gap in his knowledge, and another on Slavic myth. Both should provide information that he hasn¡¯t yet learned. I also found a fantasy book and a science fiction book that seemed interesting to him. I wasn¡¯t really sure about his opinion on romances, so I choose those two books specifically because they lacked that in the short read I gave them. The Wheel of Time series is rather long, meaning I can buy more books for him if he enjoys it, and Dune is very popular with a lot of religious commentary, which I think he will enjoy. I don¡¯t read fiction anymore, so I¡¯m not sure what constitutes a good story, but these seem like safe picks. I also picked up some nice gel pens and a small journal in case he has any interest in that sort of thing.


    It took a good bit of cash, but I have plenty of that to go around. I still have enough for Natalie, so I should be fine. I can¡¯t wait for Thomas¡¯s birthday.


    Joshua


    May 5, 1/4


    My mother invited me to help her cook tonight. She was making beef wellington with mashed potatoes and peas. It had been a while since she invited me into the kitchen, and I¡¯ll admit that I was touched. My father wasn¡¯t home yet, so it¡¯s not like I was in danger of being caught. She had me peeling and chopping the potatoes. It was a fairly relaxing, mindless task that I could handle despite my rustiness. Well, that¡¯s what I thought, at least. She told me multiple times that I needed to be careful with the knife, warned me that I wasn¡¯t being careful enough with the placement of my fingers, but I barely adjusted my grip and didn¡¯t pay her much mind. I cut myself.


    The knife, one of those high quality Japanese ones that¡¯s sharper than a razor, cut through the pad of my pointer finger like it was nothing. For a moment, it didn¡¯t even hurt, and I just watched like a fucking idiot as I bled. My mother noticed before I had the time to come to my senses and took the knife out of my hand, bringing me to the sink and rinsing my hand off in the running water. That¡¯s when it began hurting. It didn¡¯t bother me very much, but my mother¡¯s hands were shaking slightly as she got out the bandages. I asked her what was wrong, and she began talking about how I had just been getting injured so much lately. I reassured her that I wouldn¡¯t make it a pattern, and she laughed.


    We had to throw out the potato I was cutting and wash the cutting board, but my mother reassigned me to steaming the peas, which was a much easier task. My finger still hurts as I write this out, but it¡¯s only a mild sting. I can get used to it, I¡¯ve been through worse. The dinner was great, by the way. My mother¡¯s a good cook.


    Joshua


    May 6, 1/4


    Less than a week until Thomas¡¯s birthday. I¡¯m excited to share what I got for him. Maybe it¡¯s a bit much, but I doubt his father will be giving him anything, that piece of shit likely thinks birthdays are only for children and thus it¡¯s totally normal that he spends every one of his birthdays drunk and alone. But it¡¯s fine. I know Thomas will appreciate it.


    My date with Natalie is tomorrow. I¡¯ve already picked out an outfit. The purple shirt and black slacks should be sufficiently eye-catching and formal while still being modest and not outshining whatever she wears. I¡¯ll tell her tomorrow about the color choice so that she can match if she wants.


    At dinner tonight, my father finally asked where I was during all those dinner absences. I told him I was in my room, and he grumbled something about me being too much of a coward to be his son and how of course I would hide in my room. My mother looked thoroughly embarrassed and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin when she thought no one was looking.


    I know I¡¯m not his son. I don¡¯t even look like I¡¯m his son. He has brown hair where I have black and my mother has strawberry blond, my nose is straight and long where his is short, and my eyes are a dark brown that¡¯s practically black where his are a sickly pale green. I think he knows all of this, too. I think he resents me, thinks I¡¯m the burden that made him marry my mother instead of some secretary. Most of all I think he resents my mother. I don¡¯t know how they can stand to be around each other.


    It¡¯s not my problem. I didn¡¯t ask to be made. Someone else decided that for me, and my father can just deal with it.


    Joshua


    May 7, 1/4


    My date with Natalie went well. She wore a light purple cardigan to match with me when I picked her up, and she was practically bouncing with excitement the entire way to Nick¡¯s. It almost made me forget how much of an asshole she had been to Thomas, how she might still be doing things to Thomas when I¡¯m not watching him. We ended the date at her house, and the kiss was sweet.


    It¡¯s almost the end of the school year. Westpoint Catholic likes to drag things out to the last possible moment, whether it¡¯s prayer, punishments, or the school year itself, and I¡¯m beginning to appreciate it. I hate to think of what will happen to Thomas when he doesn¡¯t have the excuse of education to stay out of his house. His father already seems bothered by the very idea of Thomas breathing the same air as him, much less actually living there and staying there during the day. His grades are good, I¡¯m making sure he gets something to eat, and that¡¯s good, but his father¡¯s a fucking piece of work. I wish I knew how to kill the man and get away with it, or that I had the courage to kill him regardless.


    My grades are fine. Thomas¡¯s grades are fine, I asked this time. Everything should be set in place for summer vacation, if Thomas had a normal set of parents. But he doesn¡¯t. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m going to do.


    Joshua


    May 9, 1/4


    Natalie and I just got off of a call. Natalie has noticed Cleo and seems to be irritated by her very presence - Cleo¡¯s irritating because she does her eyeliner in the girl¡¯s bathroom and can¡¯t even do it well with that cheap ass stick, Cleo¡¯s frustrating because whenever there¡¯s a test Cleo hands it in first and then throws her hands victoriously in the air, Cleo¡¯s messy because she¡¯s always cutting up magazines and newspapers and making zines about some sharing is caring bullshit, and why does Cleo walk around like she owns the school when she hides in the bathroom to change before gym? She thinks she¡¯s so much holier than everyone there just because she doesn¡¯t believe in God (I laughed at the irony here, but I managed to muffle the receiver before Natalie noticed) and just because you got your parents to pay for you to come here as a joke doesn¡¯t mean that it¡¯s funny to everyone else. I agreed with all of Natalie¡¯s assessments and told her that she¡¯s right to find Cleo annoying, and Natalie quipped that she¡¯s shocked I¡¯m not taking Cleo¡¯s side like I did with Thomas.


    I got angry at that. I shouldn¡¯t have, but I did. I asked her what was wrong with defending Thomas. She replied that there was nothing wrong with defending him in what I would later realize was a confused tone. If there was nothing wrong with it, then why was she bringing it up? Because it was a joke, she said, getting a little angry herself. Well it wasn¡¯t funny, I replied, and I could hear her take a deep breath before¡­ actually apologizing for offending me. I was still pissed, really pissed, but. Natalie doesn¡¯t sincerely apologize, not since I¡¯ve known her. I told her that I was sorry for getting angry and that she was right, it was just a joke.


    We talked a little more after that, but it was stilted. Maybe Natalie is changing. I can¡¯t tell, and I don¡¯t want to call it too soon. But maybe she¡¯s not so bad.


    Joshua


    May 10, 1/4


    Mr. Hayashi is different from the other teachers at Westpoint. He¡¯s observant, intelligent. He notices when students are falling behind, when they¡¯re picking on each other, when they¡¯re excelling. He notices when a student is nervous before a test, offering them mints and caring words. When someone is overconfident, he¡¯ll indulge.


    Right now, I¡¯ve gotten the acute sense that he¡¯s noticed something about me. I don¡¯t know what it is for sure, I don¡¯t know how deep his understanding goes, but I can tell. And it seems to be regarding Thomas. He tried to talk to me about my grades, but his eyes kept shifting between myself and Thomas, who was sitting at his desk. When I tried asking him what was wrong, he straightened and pushed on through my report card. He told me he knows I can do better - I get that from a lot of teachers - but when he said it, it felt like he actually had proof of it.


    I went back to my desk, and then it was Thomas¡¯s turn to ask me what was wrong. I told him that my grades were worse than I expected, and he offered to help me study at my house. Like an idiot, I accepted, and now we are going to have a ¡°study-date¡± the same weekend as his birthday sleepover. What a waste of his time, and the whole thing is built on a lie. I hate this.


    Joshua


    May 11, 1/4


    It¡¯s the night before Thomas¡¯s birthday, and I feel more excited for it than I do for my own. I¡¯ve gotten everything wrapped and decorated, even filling out a card for him. I¡¯ll admit that I even went back to Golden Press and got Eliza two children¡¯s novels that I think she¡¯d like. It¡¯s not like my family¡¯s short on money. I¡¯ll give him some of the gifts tomorrow and the rest during the sleepover. I checked in with my mom and she said they were both fine with it.


    I think I¡¯ll give him the book about Slavic mythology, since it¡¯s a shorter read. Maybe he can finish it before the sleepover. And one of the children¡¯s books should be a good second gift - I¡¯ll give her Matilda first, see how she handles it and then give her Harry Potter and the Sorcerer''s Stone second. I may have roped myself into buying another series of novels for the Harrowers, but it¡¯s worth it. If they¡¯re happy, it¡¯s worth it.


    Joshua


    May 12, 1/4


    I gave Thomas the gifts I mentioned yesterday. He seemed unspeakably grateful, even hugged me, and said that he couldn¡¯t ask for a better friend. I had the strangest urge to¡­ hurt him. Break his arm or something. I felt like a freak until he released me, and the feeling mostly subsided. Jesus fucking christ, it was terrifying. But he was practically near tears, so I had more important things to tend to.


    I did this during first period, which was apparently a mistake, for Cleo deigned that this was also the time she would grace us with her presence and hand over her gift. At first it appeared to be just another zine that she placed neatly on his desk before kicking back in the chair next to him, but when Thomas opened it, he gasped like she had slipped the word of god between the pages. When I looked over to see what it was, I saw that it was a zine apparently dedicated to Thomas, with admittedly high quality photos of him from Cleo¡¯s polaroid next to poems, quotes, and handwritten notes about him.


    I looked back to Cleo to glare at her. She is not nearly close enough to him to be making this kind of display of her friendship. I have not forgotten how she left him at Prom, how her friend group is composed of conniving bastards and saboteurs. She watched Thomas read through it and excitedly exclaim any time he found something he liked in her shallow flattery, but eventually she looked over at me and raised an eyebrow before sticking out her tongue. I¡¯ve been getting angrier lately, I don¡¯t know what is causing it, probably just on edge because of the upcoming summer break, but I clenched my fists under the table and gave her my iciest, most threatening smile. She laughed in my face.


    Thomas looked up at that and gave me a confused expression, and I toned it down. I don¡¯t want Thomas to know how I feel about his other friends. They really are assholes, I really don¡¯t trust them, but they¡¯re his friends, not mine. Thomas snorted and kicked me gently under the table. Does he know? Does he know how much I dislike her?


    The rest of the day was fine, though Thomas couldn¡¯t get his nose out of the book. I mean, I half expected him to save it for another time, as Essays on Russian Folklore and Mythology isn¡¯t exactly the most eye-catching or entertaining sounding book. I kind of like it, though. He seems to really appreciate my gift. When the school day ended, he ran up to me before he got on the bus and began talking excitedly about Perun and his roots in Greek and Norse mythology. I couldn¡¯t stop smiling as he talked about it. I asked him if his excitement meant that he was having a good birthday, and he laughed and nodded and just seemed to glow. I love him. I can¡¯t wait to give him the rest on Saturday.


    Joshua


    May 14, 1/4


    I don¡¯t know what I was thinking, going on a date with Natalie tonight, but now I have to rush to clean my room for Thomas and I¡¯s sleepover tomorrow night.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The date was fine, I guess. We went to somewhere she picked, this time, Fionna¡¯s Deli. She said that it was nicer on my wallet and had the best pastries in town. She was right, but at the moment I don¡¯t really give a shit. I know I should¡¯ve asked her out without prompting me. I know that I should¡¯ve been more gentlemanly and sweet, that she could probably see through my charade and into the core of hatred and bitterness that I really am, but I¡¯m not perfect despite my dad¡¯s attempts and my mother¡¯s insistence. I¡¯m trying, but I¡¯m not.


    Whatever. I need to get to work before tomorrow. I¡¯m picking Thomas up first thing in the morning and I need some sleep before we stay up the following night. Fucking hell.


    Joshua


    May 15, 1/4


    The sleepover was fine, at first. I¡¯ll never forget Thomas¡¯s face as I took the rest of his presents out from under my bed, even if he tried to give them back to me. I lied and said I threw away the receipts, and he reluctantly kept it all. He seemed especially touched by the fact that I thought of getting something for his sister.


    My mother made lunch and snacks for us as we played games in my room or sat in the yard, and he was smiling so wide it seemed like it hurt. He told me that this was the best birthday he had ever had.


    And then my father ruined it. He came home from work angry, always angry, and immediately began shouting at my mother for not having dinner ready by the time he got home. Nevermind that he gets home at different times every night because he¡¯s so busy kissing ass at his office, no, she had to just psychically know exactly when he is going to grace us with his divine presence. Thomas and I were in my room, and Thomas froze when he heard the shouting. My father scaring Thomas like that is unforgivable, nevermind how he makes my mother feel. Sure, I used to be afraid of my father when I was little, before I knew better, but Thomas has good reason to be afraid. I held my finger to my lips to signal to keep quiet, and I could hear my mother burst into tears downstairs as my father berated her and accused her of guilt tripping him. That made Thomas flinch, and I wondered for a moment if something similar ever happened to his own mother before she passed.


    Father stormed upstairs and pounded on my door, demanding that I come out immediately. I smiled at Thomas to let him know it was okay, and then I walked to my door. Upon opening it, my father¡¯s eyes widened comically. He had definitely forgotten Thomas was at the house. And then he began screaming at me for having someone over uninvited. We both knew Thomas was invited, we both knew he was covering his ass, but Thomas didn¡¯t. Thomas got to his feet immediately, hands shaking as he packed his bags and promised to leave and walk home as soon as he could. I glared at my father with all the hatred that I could put into my expression, and my father visibly began to twitch with discomfort, but he was dedicated to his lie. When he ran out of breath, I told him in a calm voice that he agreed I could have Thomas over on Thursday. I could tell he wanted to hit me, but seeing as he hadn¡¯t tried anything beyond a spanking since I was ten, he barely held back. What a fucking joke. What an absolute fucking joke of a man.


    Thomas stood uncomfortably behind me as my father called me a bastard and told me he didn¡¯t know why he had even bothered to marry my mother. I waited out his insane ramblings again before politely telling him that he had ruined our evening and that I would be driving Thomas home now. He grabbed my wrist.


    It had been a long time since my father had done anything like a physical punishment to me, but so long as it wasn¡¯t humiliating I didn¡¯t give a shit. Thomas interrupted to say that he was going to get in the car and wouldn¡¯t you like to come with, Joshua? I told him to wait in the car for me.


    My father pulled me down the stairs, and if I wasn¡¯t good on my feet I would have fallen down the rest of the way. He pulled me in front of my sobbing mother and proceeded to demand to know why she had raised such a disobedient faggot of a son. I pulled out of his grip and asked him why he was blaming it all on mother when clearly he was the incompetent one. The backhand was worth it.


    He seemed thoroughly stunned after that, and even my mother went quiet for a moment before she began sobbing again. It gave me the opportunity to leave that I needed.


    Thomas was crying in the car, but when he saw me he scrubbed his tears away and gave me a shaky smile. I asked him if this was still a good birthday, and he broke into hysterical laughter. God, but it was beautiful. I drove him around my neighborhood and then downtown, talking to him about anything. Eventually he interrupted to ask about the mark on my face, and when I tried to change the subject, he pointed out that I was bleeding. Which is unfortunate, I was wearing one of my better sweaters. I brushed it off, both the blood and the comment, and drove him home. We said goodnight and I drove back to my place.


    My father was angry with me for talking back when I returned, sure, but he was more afraid of me calling the police, so that settled it. I returned to my room without incident. I¡¯m afraid to sleep, but that¡¯s normal for a stressful night. It¡¯ll be fine.


    Joshua


    May 16, 1/4


    Adam is having another party tonight. I asked him where his parents go every fucking weekend, and he told me that they have dates in Baltimore that they get a hotel room for and everything. He was sneering as he said this, as though his parent¡¯s commitment to their relationship was something to be disgusted by. Maybe it is, maybe he sees it as abandoning him. I don¡¯t know, and honestly, i really don¡¯t fucking care that much. It¡¯s just another little quirk some random meaningless family has.


    When I walked down the stairs, my parents halted their conversation in the living room, going dead silent. At first I assumed that my father was irrationally angry at me again, but they said nothing to me as I put on my shoes and walked out the door. He might feel guilty, but it would be bold to assume he¡¯s cognitively capable of the emotion.


    I drove over to Natalie¡¯s, parked where her parents wouldn¡¯t see my car, and knocked on her window like a real romantic. When she finally opened her window, I offered to take her to a party. She was flattered, but she said that she had homework, but did I want her to come anyway just so I wouldn¡¯t be alone? When have I ever been alone?  I told her she didn¡¯t have to do anything on my account, and that I¡¯d be heading over there if she wanted to call Adam¡¯s phone and check on me. She agreed that she would.


    I arrived at Adam¡¯s shortly thereafter. There wasn¡¯t anything of interest happening. There was less alcohol than usual, which meant less people, which meant that Adam is lacking in real friends. Someone began bragging about how they had a weed hookup from the seniors, but when asked to show the goods, they genuinely said they left it at home. That was funny.


    I left early. Nothing was happening, and I really couldn¡¯t care less to show up to something where no one will see me. I wish I had gotten drunk, but that would have been a waste of time anyways. I came back home late enough that my parents had gone to bed, and I¡¯m here in my room now. Of course I had a nightmare last night, I¡¯m probably going to have another one tonight. How fun.


    Joshua


    May 17, 1/4


    Thomas got on my nerves today, which is something I didn¡¯t know he could do. As soon as I got to school, I spotted him nervously waiting at the entrance of the school. When I walked there, because where else would I enter, he started walking beside me. This was fine. I asked him if he was alright, trying to keep the implied question of ¡®did my father scare you/did your father do anything?¡¯ subtle. He nodded dismissively, before asking if I¡¯d be willing to follow him. Of course I agreed.


    He led me to a little alcove under the stairs and in the back of the building that I had never really noticed before and asked me how I was doing. I told him, completely honestly, that I was fine. I even smiled. He seemed frustrated by it, however, and insisted that I had to have some issue with what happened at the sleepover. I wanted to hiss to be quiet about that, but I didn¡¯t, instead telling him that I was upset that my father had ruined it for Thomas, but I was personally fine. And he insisted again, no, really Joshua, are you okay?


    Of course I am. I couldn¡¯t care less what my father does to me, because my father is an incompetent moron. He can¡¯t hurt me in any way that matters. And then Thomas pointed out that I had a bruise, right on my cheekbone. He was angry, visibly angry, that I wasn¡¯t giving him what he wanted.


    I told Thomas that he could learn to let sleeping dogs lie, truly, and that it didn¡¯t matter if my jaw was broken, I really couldn¡¯t give less of a shit what my father does. And then I turned and walked out. Thomas called out to me, demanding that I talk to him, and I kept walking. I don¡¯t need to be babied. I don¡¯t need someone worrying over my every little move. I¡¯m not like other people, I don¡¯t need sympathy or empathy or whatever you call it when someone pretends to feel bad for you. Even if Thomas isn¡¯t pretending, it really couldn¡¯t matter less what my father does or how I feel about it. It¡¯s not important.


    The rest of the day was fine, though I didn¡¯t talk to Thomas again. I don¡¯t need to talk to him, anyways. It¡¯s not like we need each other to function - he clearly doesn¡¯t need me, anyway. The only two things that changed was that Natalie was more excited to talk to me and Mr. Hayashi seemed to stare at me more. It¡¯s fine.


    Joshua


    May 19, 1/4


    Cleo was watching me today. I don¡¯t know what she thinks she knows, but it¡¯s none of her business. For once she should just fucking stay out of it.


    Joshua


    May 20, 1/4


    Mr. Hayashi pulled me aside in class today, took me out into the hall. I hated this, it drew too much attention to me, but there wasn¡¯t much I could do to prevent it. I asked him if my grades were alright, once we were out of view of the class, and he told me that my grades were fine if a little sub par for what I could do. I then waited for him to continue. He told me that we needed to have a serious discussion about relationships. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a read on where this was coming from, or at least where he had gotten the guts to talk to me like this. Most people know better.


    He told me that abandoning Thomas and refusing to speak to him was immature, that I was acting like a child. I just glared. He continued and said that I was usually his most mature and upstanding student, and that whatever had happened between us, I should probably set it aside and choose to preserve our friendship over preserving my pride. He is fucking observant. I bristled at first, wanting to snap at him, but I haven¡¯t lost my composure in front of a teacher since second grade and I don¡¯t plan on breaking that pattern. He asked me what had happened between me and Thomas, and I considered my options. I could lie and say that it was related to something that hadn¡¯t happened and risk him asking Thomas, tell him it was nothing, or tell the truth. I chose the fourth option of telling him that whatever happened didn¡¯t really matter, and that he was right, I was just being immature. He gave me a look and told me that I should probably apologize anyway, to Thomas, for being so arrogant. Arrogant. What a funny word.


    He let me back in class, and Thomas gave me a baleful look. And he was right. It is childish of me to put something as petty as myself before Thomas. Am I even really putting myself first? It¡¯s not like saying nothing about my father benefits me, other than making me look composed. But composure is all I have. Whatever. The important thing is that I apologized to Thomas and asked if he¡¯d consider forgiving me. He rolled his eyes and agreed, and we ate lunch together during our break.


    I know, I know there¡¯s very little that matters more than Thomas. I personally care about little else. But I don¡¯t want to appear weak, especially to him. I¡¯m not weak. Weak is something a person is, something a normal person feels. I¡¯m not normal. I¡¯m not better, I know that for certain, I know I¡¯m not fucking better than them. I¡¯m worse. I am a worse person than anyone I¡¯ve ever met, including my father, including Thomas¡¯s father. I am a monster. I¡¯m a fucking monster and the fact that everyone around me can¡¯t see it is terrifying. I can barely stand it. Every day I walk around in a person suit and smile and talk and walk like a human being, but I¡¯m fucking not. I¡¯m not a person. I pretend every day to be someone that people like, someone that can lead and charm, but it¡¯d be more accurate to say I follow and connive. I¡¯m hideous. I¡¯m a fucking freak.


    I almost forgot what I was talking about. Anyway, Thomas is important to me. I don¡¯t want to drive him, of all people, away. I need to be better than this. I have to be.


    Joshua


    May 22, 1/4


    It¡¯s damn near 2am as I write this, but I¡¯m not going to sleep. I can feel my dad in every corner of this room, like a fucking toxic fume seeping into the carpet. I¡¯m not sleeping.


    Natalie called me earlier tonight, asking if she could make up for the party she had missed by coming with me to another one. I agreed that it sounded fun, and told her I would pick her up. There weren¡¯t any parties at our school, but there was an end of year party for my old school Eastshore Catholic. I thought it might be a fun idea to take her there.


    When we arrived, things were in full swing. Eastshore parties always seemed a little more populated, a little more rowdy, than the ones at Westpoint, probably something to do with Eastshore¡¯s reputation as a place to find a spouse as opposed to Westpoint¡¯s reputation as a place to get into Harvard. People were excited to see me, and were shocked by the sight of me with Natalie. Natalie is extremely beautiful, beating out any of the plainer girls from Eastshore by a mile, so of course she caught people¡¯s attention.


    Natalie began drinking immediately, though compared to what I used to see at parties it was in moderation. She handed me a drink as well, which I took a sip from occasionally just to look like I was drinking. People kept coming up to me to chat or to reminisce about when I was still in attendance and about what my new school was like. Eventually people started asking me about what happened with Marianne, and the way they asked made it sound like they¡¯d only just remembered that she existed. Additionally, Marianne wasn¡¯t at the party, which was¡­ both good and bad. On one hand, she wouldn¡¯t bother me or Natalie, but on the other, she must have really fallen reputation-wise. I told the people who asked that Marianne and I just had a minor falling out and decided it wouldn¡¯t work out for us, and most of them seemed to take it in stride.


    Natalie began acting strangely, like she had drunk more than her body weight in alcohol, around eleven. She didn¡¯t seem alarmed by this at first, but it was definitely unusual. When she went to take another drink, I took it out of her hand and put it back on the counter. That seemed to confuse her more than anything, and she started joking that I was a straight edge despite all the cardigans and sweater vests. I laughed and humored her, but something felt distinctly wrong about the situation. I had never seen Natalie get fully drunk, and this was even a little past that.


    I noticed Kevin, the captain of the Soccer club at Eastshore, watching her closely while he pretended to be otherwise occupied. I could feel him circling us the entire night, like he was waiting for me to leave. He seemed to make any girl in his vicinity uncomfortable, which never used to be the case. Something tells me he knew that Natalie was intoxicated and was waiting for her to slip up. I don¡¯t trust that fucker, never have, but before I thought it was just paranoia. Now I¡¯m pretty sure that he was the one passing Natalie drinks.


    I asked Natalie if she wanted to go home, and after a too-long pause she nodded. I tried to leave immediately, but Kevin stopped us at the door and insisted on trying to get us to stay and, when that didn¡¯t work, prolonged goodbyes. Turns out he was supposed to be the host. Natalie was practically swaying on her feet by this point, so I told him point blank that if he didn¡¯t shut up I was going to bite him. That seemed to work.


    I drove Natalie home. I didn¡¯t want to alert her parents to her state, so I helped sneak her into her room through the window. Thank god for her first floor bedroom. She drunkenly kissed me good night, and tried to make out with me, but I was definitely uncomfortable at this point and gently pushed her off me. She started to cry, I reassured her that I liked her and that she was just drunk, and then she went to bed.


    I know that motherfucker Kevin did something, but I don¡¯t know what. Maybe she did just have too much to drink, but something about that was distinctly not normal. Something about tonight is severely not normal.


    Joshua


    May 25, 1/4


    I had a dream about Thomas last night. It was like a normal dream, with parts that didn¡¯t make sense and muddled settings and feelings. God, but it was relieving after nearly a week of my dad appearing in them. Thomas and I were at Prom, except he had taken Natalie¡¯s place, and he was wearing the dress instead. He was stunning, as always, with the long white opera gloves and corsage and everything. It was a strange contrast to what he actually wore. I like to think that I bought everything for him. Anyways, the night mostly went the same, except that I kissed Thomas instead of Natalie, and then Natalie, who had somehow taken up Thomas¡¯s original part as a wallflower, turned into a giant flaming banshee. It didn¡¯t even really scare me when that happened. It was¡­ almost comical. The dream ended when my alarm went off for school.


    Joshua


    May 27, 1/4


    Last Thursday of freshman year. Tomorrow is the last day of the semester, and then summer starts. Everyone seems so excited to get out of here. I am too, in a way, but I¡¯m more concerned for Thomas than anything else. Sure, people at the school won¡¯t have the same opportunities bullying-wise, but now his father will have uninterrupted time with the son he so despises. I feel¡­ nauseous just thinking about it. I can¡¯t let that man hurt his son. I can¡¯t. There has to be something I can do about this. Even if it means working with my dad.


    My father called me downstairs earlier this evening, told me that he would like me to apply for an internship at his law firm. I wanted to ask him why the hell he thought I¡¯d do that for him, but something compelled me to stay silent. He told me that since there¡¯s only a day left of school, I need to find something to do during the summer. It¡¯s too low-class for me to get an actual job, we both know that, but an unpaid internship isn¡¯t exactly ideal. Having an independent income would be very much preferred to having to rely on whatever my father takes home. It¡¯s not like I have any skills or an education, however. I can see how this internship might benefit me, I guess. I told him I¡¯d think about it, and he told me that I didn¡¯t need to think about it, if I really was his son I¡¯d have half the brains necessary to see that this was what¡¯s best for me. After that wonderful offer, how could I say no? I did, infact, say no. And then he sent me to my room.


    I don¡¯t really want this internship. It takes time away from taking care of Thomas and seeing the other students at Westpoint. I can¡¯t even do anything useful while I¡¯m there, and I¡¯ll just be a glorified office pet that fetches coffee and lunches for everyone else. There¡¯s no reason for me to say yes, other than to please my father. And I don¡¯t want to please him.


    Joshua


    May 28, 1/4


    Today was the last day of school. Thomas and I spent all the time we could with each other. I think he was anxious about the summer as well. He told me a story about how he was always left out of Field Day at his elementary school like it was something to be laughed at, and I laughed, because that¡¯s what anyone else would do. He asked me if I wanted to tell him anything about when I was a kid, and for a moment I couldn¡¯t think of anything. But I came up with something eventually, some boring story about a hospital visit from my childhood.


    I¡¯ve never really talked about it, but I used to get sick a lot, so much so that I later found out my parents weren¡¯t sure if I was going to survive my first few years of life. I don¡¯t remember a lot of it, being too young to have retained a lot of it, but I do remember bits and pieces. I remember my mother reading to me a lot, and one of my favorite books was a book about a little boy with a firefighter for a father. I became obsessed with becoming a firefighter, like it was something to look forward to. I was so obsessed with it that my mother found a firefighter willing to talk to me. I looked at that man like he was a hero. He seemed equally happy to see me.


    I told Thomas all of that, and Thomas was smiling at me all softly and sweetly. What I didn¡¯t tell him is the following year¡¯s worth of nightmares I had of the man dying horrifically. I¡¯ve checked on the man since then, it¡¯s not like he died in a horrific accident and I overheard it from a nurse or something, I just had visceral dreams nearly every night of him being crushed under rubble or pierced by broken piping. Probably my dad¡¯s work, honestly. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised.


    I said goodbye to Thomas at the end of the day, hugging him tightly while we were out of sight of everyone, and that was it for the day. Then it was time to deal with Natalie.


    We went on a date. It was nice, really. We went to an Asian restaurant and got noodles, which was a nice contrast to the place we went for our first date, and we had a good time. We kissed before I dropped her back off at her house, and I went back to mine feeling pretty good.


    My dad told me that I had until the first of June to make my decision on whether or not I want to be his intern, and he made it sound like a threat. I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s planning, but I¡¯m sure I can manage whatever he does. It¡¯s not like he can stop me.


    Joshua


    May 31, 1/4


    I made it through ninth grade. It didn¡¯t take any effort on my part, but I did. So that¡¯s over. I won¡¯t have to participate in any kind of group prayer activity outside of Sunday mornings during the summer, so that¡¯s a nice bonus.


    Natalie and I call every night, to the point that my father has been complaining that I¡¯m hogging the landline. She talks about her day and anything that comes to mind, and I do the same. She seems to really like me. I¡¯m always surprised by that. As much as I play the part of the perfect son and student to outsiders, the part of the perfect boyfriend to her, I¡¯m still expecting someone to see through it. But no one does.


    My father still expects me to say yes to his whole idea of me being his intern. I certainly won¡¯t be giving him what he wants. It¡¯s just a waiting game, I only have to bide my time until he gives up. One of us has a will strong enough to bend the other, and it isn¡¯t my father.


    I called Thomas tonight. He seemed fine, I guess, but I know it¡¯s only a matter of time. Everything in this miserable place is only a matter of time.


    Joshua

 Interlude I

    Cleo transferred to Westpoint Catholic for a lot of reasons. The one she was most proud of was that she transferred so that she could radicalize her fellow students and provide someone to talk to for people like her. They were also good for colleges, and Cleo was aiming for a nice liberal arts college that she could really express herself in. The one she was least proud of was named Lisa.


    Lisa was her crush from middle school. Lisa was beautiful, and funny, and sometimes a little petty or vindictive, but she was still Lisa. Lisa and Cleo were an odd pair of friends, Lisa being one of the more popular girls at Hilldoe Middle School and Cleo being more of a pariah, but they made it work. Lisa would confide in Cleo, tell Cleo how much she hated her other friends, and Cleo never stopped to consider that Lisa was doing the same to Elizabeth and Millie and Joanne. Cleo would tell Lisa things she woudln¡¯t tell others, too, like that she hated being seen as lesser than the other girls because her clothes weren¡¯t girly, or that being latina in a school in a rich neighborhood was fucking hard. Cleo had heard the joke that doesn¡¯t your mother clean my toilet? far too many fucking times. And Lisa was there when Cleo punched Jake over the same joke, so they were friends.


    Well, Cleo thought they were friends. But when Cleo told Lisa that she might be a Lesbian near the end of the year, nearly crying in front of her, Lisa got this weird look on her face for just a moment. Lisa rubbed her back and said soothing words, but the next day everyone at Hilldoe was looking at Cleo like she was a freak. And Cleo knew.


    When she confronted Lisa, it was ugly. She was screaming, Lisa was laughing, and everyone was watching. The principal intervened and told Cleo that maybe she should take a step back and reconsider her choices. Cleo had never wanted to hit a ¡°trusted adult¡± more in her life. Lisa went on with her life as though nothing had ever happened, like she never even realized that Cleo existed and she wasn¡¯t going to start now.


    When Cleo got home, she was shaking. The principal had called her parents, and while she knew her parents were cool with the punk clothes and the far left politics, there was no guarantee that they would accept for even a moment their daughter being gay. She was already thinking of places she could couch surf after her parents kicked her out when her mother took one look at her and burst into tears. Cleo turned around to leave when her father asked her where she thought she was going. Oh god. She turned back round on stiff legs, barely able to keep from running, and her father¡¯s eyes softened.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never known you to run away from something,¡± he said, and then they sat her down.


    Cleo really thought she was facing some kind of execution, and she prepared to defend herself like Joan of Arc before the court. But her parents were apparently overjoyed and proud of her for being herself. Her mother said that she had always suspected it, and her father said that he was always sure. They loved her. And that night they called Lucy¡¯s father and, initially, explained exactly what his daughter had done at school, and when the asshole didn¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass, tore him a new one. Insults ranged from the fact that he left dog shit on his yard and everyone knew it to that he was the stingiest member of the PTA they had ever had the displeasure of knowing, and that whenever he attempted to cook for the neighborhood parties or barbeques its a miracle no one walked away with food poisoning. Cleo had never been happier about being wrong in her life.


    So when she told her parents she couldn¡¯t face Lisa in high school and that she¡¯d rather go to Westpoint, there were mixed reactions. Her parents totally understood wanting to change schools or school districts, but a private Catholic school? Didn¡¯t that go against everything she believed in? And then Natalie told them her master plan for converting students to the radical punk lifestyle.


    Westpoint was nice enough. The teachers all had some kind of vendetta against her with the exception of Mr. Hayashi, the majority of students there looked at her like she was the antichrist, and she had to find completely new friends, but on the bright side her friends here seemed a lot more eager to rebel against rules and convention and were somehow even more numerous than at Hilldoe. When Cleo got a new haircut, something hideously choppy that she may or may not have done with her parents¡¯ kitchen scissors, some of them were so taken with it that they copied her. When she got comfortable enough to do her big showy eyeliner, they started to do their own makeup however they wanted to. She seemed to be kind of an inspiration to them. It was almost¡­ lonely.


    She wanted to be more than just a figure of rebellion to them, but they simply went to her for all their problems and to try new things with her, ranging from getting Angela¡¯s ears pierced to Luke trying to smoke a cigarette with her. Explaining what a straight edge punk was to him after that got a little awkward. But it wasn¡¯t all bad! They were really nice people, all of them, and they were all trying to be better people. She respected that. She wanted to be their friend, she really did, but it just felt like¡­ she wasn¡¯t really a person to them.


    That changed when Rosaline joined her little posse. Rosaline was a very strong girl, incredibly buff for a catholic school student, and said that she got in on a merit scholarship her parents couldn¡¯t turn down last year. Rosaline called out when the others weren¡¯t treating Cleo like a person, called out when the more standard students were staring too hard for too long, and generally just¡­ stood up for people. The crush developed pretty quickly, but this time when Cleo told her, Rosaline made a confession of her own. Rosaline said she wasn¡¯t gay or straight or bi or anything else, but that she just didn¡¯t get crushes on people. And honestly, Cleo didn¡¯t mind that one bit. She was just happy Rosaline didn¡¯t tell anyone else. They made a pact to each other that day to keep each other¡¯s secrets, and ever since then they were best friends.


    Cleo moved past that crush pretty quickly, only to find another at one of Rosaline¡¯s volleyball games. Natalie Marie Laurelson. Natalie was a cheerleader for that game, not the captain by nay means but still an outstanding freshman who made a lot of the others look like amateurs. She was often the one being lifted by the other cheerleaders because she was so thin, and the pigtails she made with her blond box braids were so pretty¡­ and when Cleo had already begun to be attracted to the confident and gorgeous Natalie, it was time to sing the national anthem for the ¡°¡°halftime show¡±¡±. Cleo always hated this part, seeing as America was an imperialistic piece of shit calling itself a country, but when Natalie stepped forward to sing, she was enamored. Natalie was a fantastic singer, and her voice was almost divine. Cleo would¡¯ve converted on the spot if she wasn¡¯t such a militant atheist. As much as Cleo tried to pay attention to Rosaline¡¯s game, Natalie became her focus.


    Cleo told Rosaline immediately after the game, and Rosaline gave her a strange look. When Cleo asked, Rosaline warned her that Natalie was the most popular girl in Cleo¡¯s class, that Natalie was one of the richest, most ruthless girls in her grade and had a habit of getting disproportionately jealous or angry, was quick to cut people off. Cleo raised her chin and said that she didn¡¯t care, that Natalie couldn¡¯t be that much of an ass, but internally? She was worried that Natalie would be just like Lisa.


    Still, she had her crush, and it only got more intense every time she saw the girl. Natalie was hilarious, always cracking jokes with her friends that were undeniably clever, always ready with a witty comeback. She was also wicked smart, handing in tests first or second (depending on if that Thomas kid was in the room) and getting straight A¡¯s whenever Cleo happened to glance at her papers. Eventually Cleo worked up the courage to ask Natalie to help her study after Cleo nearly failed a test, and Natalie gave her a surprised look before agreeing.


    It went great. Sure, Cleo talked too much and maybe showed off like three of her collages, all of which had partially nude Greek lady statues on them, but if Natalie was bothered by it she didn¡¯t show it. Natalie cracked jokes, listened to Cleo ramble, and best of all actually helped Cleo make sense of her English and Math work.


    And then Joshua moved into her school. The kid had an extremely bad aura, and Cleo knows she¡¯s not supposed to judge people she knows nothing about and that she¡¯s supposed to give everyone a chance, but jesus fucking christ the dude gave her the willies. The next time Natalie and herself had a study date, she tried to joke about his freak vibes. It didn¡¯t go well.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Natalie stopped talking to her after that. Natalie didn¡¯t tell anyone about Cleo¡¯s awkward demeanor or artwork, but Cleo was worried sick every day for a month that she would. But more than that, Cleo was worried that Natalie would never speak to her again. Cleo had to remedy this.


    She started by working harder in school. Cleo was smart, she knew she was smart, but if she could just get Natalie to notice that too¡­ And she made art. She got top grades in her art classes because of her dedication and creativity, and the halls were soon displaying her work. But Natalie never really looked back. So Cleo got bolder.


    Cleo was going to run for ninth grade prom prince. Natalie was running for Prom Princess, so it was only natural that Cleo defy gender norms and go for the other title. She also didn¡¯t want any chance of her pushing Natalie out of her rightful place on the throne. She made more collages than she ever had, all beautiful women leading people to victory and yes, maybe a few pinups, but they were pretty, alright? And that¡¯s how she met Thomas.


    Thomas was the nicest kid she had ever gotten to know. He was kind, he was intelligent, and he loved to talk once he was comfortable around you. When she first met him, she handed him a zine the same as everyone else in the school, but he seemed absolutely stunned she even looked at him, and she couldn¡¯t help but want to help the kid out. The more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. Thomas treated her like a person, sure, a person he was amazed and impressed by, but a person nonetheless. The only problem with him was that he was also close to Joshua.


    She didn¡¯t make the same mistake that she did last time, and for once in her life she kept her opinions to herself. But that didn¡¯t stop Cleo from having them. For now they were mostly unfounded. Sure, hearing that Joshua used to exclude Thomas from eating lunch with him pissed her off, but it was typical teenage assholery rather than something deeply underlying. And maybe it really just wasn¡¯t her fucking business.


    Her first sighting of what lies underneath Joshua¡¯s milk-toast demeanor was when she encountered him shopping with Thomas. For some reason they were getting groceries for what looked like a meal, and it seemed like Joshua was paying. She had never known Joshua to actually do an act of kindness, and he most certainly didn¡¯t seem like the pay it forward type. But she dismissed her perception of an oddity as nothing more - it was just an assumption, and a wrong one at that. She walked over to Thomas and wrapped him in an excited hug, genuinely happy to see the little guy, when she felt the pinpricks of eyes on her. She looked up to see what was possibly the most terrifyingly blank expression ever made by a human as Joshua stared at her. He was looking at her like¡­ like he wanted to burn her alive. She told him to get a haircut. And just like that, he seemed to snap out of it, replacing the blank void behind his eyes with a certain disgust and disdain. He told her that she should brush her hair.


    Like she hadn''t heard that one before. It quickly devolved into a series of passive aggressive or outright aggressive insults, and Thomas had to get them to knock it off by nearly yelling at them in the store. Whatever, it''s not like it really confirmed her suspicions so much as it confirmed her biases. He didn¡¯t really do anything other than be vaguely frightening to make eye contact with. She had more important things to focus on, such as her candidacy for Prom Prince!


    Which she lost. When her friends tore the announcement off one of the hallway cork boards and brought it over to her, she was excited. She already thought there was no way in hell that she¡¯d win, so she wasn¡¯t worried about that, and her friends were gushing about how they were so amazed she was still on the list. Unfortunately, she landed dead last in the ¡°Prom Princess¡± category, since the only people who voted for her were her friends. The write-ins were definitely under the ¡°prince¡± category, but that didn¡¯t stop the school administration from making the final decision on whether or not Cleo was allowed to appear on the neighboring list. But more importantly than any of that, Natalie was the winner of Prom Princess. Holy shit! Natalie was pretty much the most popular girl in the entire ninth grade, sure, but the fact that she actually did it¡­ it was astonishing. Cleo felt almost¡­ proud of her?


    Speaking of the neighboring list, Joshua had taken over Jonathan¡¯s campaign to replace him as candidate after Cleo and Rosaline¡¯s hard work. Turns out getting Jonathan removed as a candidate only led to an opening for Joshua, who could have guessed? It was obnoxious. And as her eyes scanned over to the other side of the page, she saw him at the top of the list. He was the prom prince.


    Fuck. Now the two were going to have the official royal dance or whatever. At least the school here was so strict that they really did enforce the ¡°make room for Jesus¡± rule. But Cleo thought, and she kept this thought shoved down deep inside of her where all of her worst thoughts went, that she really should be having that dance instead. It¡¯s not like Natalie would actually want to dance with her, or that Natalie would even want to hold hands, but the fact that the creepiest kid in the school won instead of Cleo? It was¡­ it felt wrong to her. She knew it was just jealousy, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel like she had lost something.


    She got over it, though. Kind of. It took a lot of effort and scolding herself in her mirror, but she did. Natalie would probably be happy to spend time with the guy she liked so much. Besides, she had other things to focus on, like her friends. Even when Natalie and Joshua¡¯s relationship veered sharply into romantic territory, Natalie just took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. Her friends were more important than a girl who would never give her the time of day.


    The Freshman-Sophomore Prom came, and Natalie spent most of the night with her friends, including Thomas. They had a great time, eating charcuterie and drinking punch until someone spiked the latter. Around that time Cleo decided it was a good idea to head home, and she made sure everyone called their parents or got into their cars just fine. The only people left from her posse after a point were Thomas, Rosaline, and herself.


    Both Rosaline and Cleo were yapping about their plans to go to a greasy diner and get mustard on their clothes, and Cleo turned to invite Thomas. Thomas smiled shyly, clearly pleased that she had thought to ask him, but he said he was going to wait to say goodbye to Joshua. Rosaline frowned and asked him if he was prepared to stay until eleven at night, and he insisted he was fine. Cleo, being a total fucking idiot in hindsight, hesitantly agreed and asked Thomas if he had a ride. Thomas replied that his father was going to pick him up at 11:30. Rosaline and Cleo gave each other meaningful looks at that.


    ¡°Alright. Just¡­ call us if you need anything, okay? I¡¯ll give you some change for the phone,¡± said Cleo, handing Thomas her emergency coin collection. Her parents insisted that she have enough money to be able to pay her way out of any shitty situation, and coins for a payphone were part of that.


    Thomas laughed. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯ll be fine, guys, it¡¯s only an hour until the party ends. I can just continue to peruse my snacking options and hang out near the water fountain until Joshua leaves.¡±


    Rosaline looked at Cleo when Thomas mentioned the hour-long wait, but neither of them said anything. He seemed pretty dead set on staying behind.


    Rosaline and Cleo left that night in high spirits and found a Denny¡¯s that was definitely still open, feasting on onion rings and tater tots and hot dogs and chicken strips. Their night was fantastic. Thomas¡¯s night was not.


    When they came back to school that next week, Thomas had a swollen and cut lip and a bruise on his cheekbone. Cleo immediately demanded to know who had done it, and when Thomas wouldn¡¯t tell her so that she could demonstrate the danger of an angry girl armed with pepper spray, she threatened to just spray Joshua. As a joke. And Thomas immediately began to freak out, saying that Joshua was the one to save him.


    What? Cleo asked if he could explain what he meant. He then told her that Joshua came in all fucking Clark Kent style, breaking one of the kids¡¯ noses and dragging Thomas out of there, taking Thomas to his home and cleaning him up, and then dropping him off with few words exchanged.


    So maybe Joshua was a good guy. She was going to do pretty much the same thing to whoever had attacked Thomas, so it wasn¡¯t like his behavior was abnormal or unusual. Maybe she was wrong. Her gut didn¡¯t decide what she did, how she lived her life - her head did. And yeah, okay, maybe her heart too, but she was a rational person. Rational people didn¡¯t have problems with another kid just because he had a nasty aura or a terrifyingly blank stare.


    When Joshua and Natalie went on their first real date, she didn¡¯t care. She was rational about it. When Thomas and Joshua got into that fight, she didn¡¯t confront Joshua, because she was a reasonable person who didn¡¯t need to solve all of her friends¡¯ problems. When Rosaline finally asked her why the hell she was going to a Catholic school, anyway, she didn¡¯t freak out, and when the whole school started spreading a rumor that Rosaline and Cleo had kissed out back where the teachers smoked their cigarettes, she remained calm. She could be so, so normal about this. She could at least do that. She just wished that maybe her life would have been less dramatic after getting away from Lisa and her clique, but she now realized that it would never be the case for as long as she went to Westpoint. She graduated the ninth grade with better grades than she had all of middle school, more art produced than in any other school year, and absolutely no relationship with Natalie, which was probably all for the best.


    She didn¡¯t know how right she was to be cautious around Joshua. She didn¡¯t know what he would become.

 June, Year One of Four

    June 4th, 1/4


    I have been unable to write for a handful of days because my father took my computer. I don¡¯t know what he was thinking,  he nearly fucking dropped you down the stairs. He told me that until I agreed to come be his intern, that I had lost all of my ¡°technology privileges¡±, like I was so devoted to the precisely two things I do with you. Only when he threatened to have your data wiped and to cut me off from using the landline did I comply. Now I¡¯ve been roped into something I don¡¯t fucking want to do. Maybe if I embarrass him enough he¡¯ll just give it up. Wouldn¡¯t that be just wonderful? I fucking hate him, I want him to get irreversibly mangled in a car wreck. I want to see his legs crushed and shattered by the weight of the engine being forced down on his legs, I want to hear him scream and scream for help, for anyone to save him, only to be rewarded with being so hoarse that he can¡¯t even whisper. I want glass to shatter and tear through his flesh, I want him to rot under the burning sun, I want him to know the agony of even knowing him through physical means.


    I got a call from Jonathan. No one ever calls me, except Thomas and Natalie on rare occasions. I answered, and he began talking about absolute nonsense, like how he needed a running mate for next year¡¯s sophomore class presidency and how he knew I wouldn¡¯t mind, that I¡¯d love to be his right hand man, and he could even get me elected as secretary or something, but usually that¡¯s a girl¡¯s job and all this other shit. I interrupted to ask what the hell he was talking about, school¡¯s three months away, and he said that the early bird gets the worm. I¡¯m pretty sure that doesn¡¯t apply to jumping the gun on an election. I told him that I would love to run with him as soon as the school year starts, but otherwise I could really care less. He seemed stunned for a moment on the other end of the line, but then he asked me if I¡¯d like to come to his birthday party, out of the blue. I said sure, because why the hell not, but why did he want to ask me? He sputtered for a moment before exclaiming that I¡¯m the most popular kid in our class, for fuck¡¯s sake, why wouldn¡¯t he want that kind of people magnet around? So I guess I¡¯m more popular than he and Adam are. I¡¯m surprised by that, but less surprised by the fact that Jonathan only wants me there so that other students might attend.


    I told him to invite Natalie as well and to not make the party a sausage fest, and after having to explain what a sausage fest was to him, he agreed. His birthday is on the seventeenth, and his party is on the nineteenth. I probably will have to pick out a gift, won¡¯t I?


    Joshua


    June 6, 1/4


    My internship starts tomorrow, so there goes my ¡°vacation¡±. We are going to Washington, D.C. for five days as a family vacation, but it will be dominated by my father throwing tantrums and complaining about every little thing that goes wrong, so it¡¯s not much to look forward to. This will be obnoxious. The summer is typically when I can drop the act and relax, but I won¡¯t get the chance this year. Instead I¡¯ll be playing the good son in front of his entire law firm for the entire summer, and having to deal with my father at the same time is going to be almost unbearable. Almost. I¡¯ve been through worse.


    I called Thomas, and he was excited to talk to me. He began telling me about how there was a new summer program at Eliza¡¯s elementary school, and how she was so excited to go. I asked if he was sad about not having her around during the day, and he said that he was mostly just relieved that she¡¯d be away from his father. He also admitted, somewhat reluctantly, that he was happy he didn¡¯t have to watch her, feed her, and teach her all day. I asked him about that last part, and he said that he buys workbooks that they do together over the summer so that Eliza doesn¡¯t forget anything she learned in school. I said that she must be happy to have a brother that cares so much for her. He laughed and said she¡¯s mostly just mad that she has to do math.


    I say it every time. I know I say it every time. But Thomas is unbelievable. He¡¯s a good person. I¡¯ve never met a person as good as him, not even my own mother. He¡¯s nearly divine. I want to rip his wings off with my bare hands. I want to bend and twist his halo until there¡¯s nothing left. I don¡¯t mean ¡°corrupting¡± him or something else romantic or sexual, but I mean that I want to hurt him until he¡¯s nothing like himself. I get this feeling more and more nowadays, this feeling that I could crush the world in the palm of my hands. Like I could actually do something, have some power. I know this is dangerous. I should snap out of it and come to my senses. But the feeling of power is so intoxicating¡­


    Anyways. I love Thomas. I wouldn¡¯t hurt him. I couldn¡¯t.


    Joshua


    June 7, 1/4


    I just came back from the first day of my internship. It was¡­ okay. There are some interesting people at my father¡¯s workplace. Agatha, a paralegal that works with another lawyer employed by my father, was particularly friendly. She seemed cautious around my dad, like she knew something was wrong with him. I hope that knowledge doesn¡¯t come from personal experience. While my dad was introducing me to all of my ¡°coworkers¡±, Agatha stood out to me as one of the few female lawyers my dad had employed, and of an even fewer number of black employees. Despite her name sounding rather old fashioned, she looks to be no older than 21 or 22, and she¡¯s very put together. It looks like all the ladies at my father¡¯s firm are required to wear some form of skirt, and most go for pencil skirts, but she looked the best in one. Very dignified where the others looked vaguely put upon. I¡¯m kind of impressed, mostly because she¡¯s not much older than me. She seems like a real professional.


    She was the first person to talk to me after my dad let me loose in the office, telling me everyone¡¯s coffee orders and lunch orders. When I asked if she knew all this because she used to be an intern, she laughed and told me she just gets treated like one sometimes.


    I need to do something about it. It is unacceptable to treat an employee like that. Someone has to punish my father. She saw the look on my face when she said that, and before I could play it off as confusion she patted my shoulder and told me not to worry about it. She¡¯s probably right. It¡¯s not my responsibility to make sure my father suffers. But I need to. It¡¯s bad enough that my father sinks his teeth into my mother like a vampire, sucking the joy out of her, it¡¯s bad enough that he treats me like a mosquito he can¡¯t quite swat away and can¡¯t quite capture, but to affect another person entirely? One he isn¡¯t supposed to control? That¡¯s wrong. It¡¯s fucking wrong and I can get revenge for her. I can.


    Maybe this is just over something else. I could hurt Thomas¡¯s father instead. But he¡¯s a trickier target, and Agatha is a good reason to get vindictive.


    After I spent a good amount of my father¡¯s money on coffee, I was asked to shred documents. That went on forever. Then I had to go get lunch before getting back to the shredding, then recycling it. After that Agatha invited me to her cubicle, and she showed me her computer¡¯s version of solitaire. It was kind of funny. We both hide games from my father. My mother came to pick me up soon after, because father probably called mother to let her know that he was going to stay late like he does most nights. We drove home in silence that only broke when she was pulling into our driveway. She told me that she was glad that I held my ground, but that I was being a responsible boy for going into the internship. I slammed my door. I¡¯m sorry, mom. I¡¯m a monster.


    Joshua


    June 9, 1/4


    I¡¯ve been calling Natalie regularly since I got my computer back. She asked me why I was off the phone for so long during our first call, and I told her that it was nothing much, my parents were just hogging the phone, ha ha ha. We agreed to a date this weekend.


    I feel claustrophobic in my own body. I feel trapped.


    I¡¯ve been calling Thomas as often as I can, and Thomas told me that his father was complaining that the phone was ringing too much and that it was giving him a headache. Fuck his father. I can¡¯t believe such a good person came from such a terrible man. But I¡¯ve got to be careful. I don¡¯t want to accidentally sic Gary fucking Harrower on Thomas.


    I have a plan for what to do to my own father. I¡¯ll update you once everything has taken place.


    Joshua


    June 11, 1/4


    Last day of the first week of my internship. Agatha invited me to eat lunch with her. She¡¯s strangely nice to me for an adult. She¡¯s strangely nice in general, really. I don¡¯t quite trust it. But I¡­ kind of want to.


    I don¡¯t know what¡¯s been wrong with me lately. I can feel my hatred consuming me like a freezing fire, like a poison seeping through my veins. I can feel my violent urges and thoughts growing louder. I¡¯ve always wanted to hurt people, everyone who had ever hurt me, but this extends to Thomas now. Am I just like my father? Designed to hurt the ones I love? I¡¯m unforgivable. I¡¯m disgusting. I can¡¯t stand being like my father, I can¡¯t fucking stand it and I want out. But there¡¯s no way out. I¡¯m doomed to be a monster. I can¡¯t keep doing this. I don¡¯t know how much longer I can keep up the act, and it¡¯s pathetic that I¡¯m even struggling to present the facade of normalcy.


    I can¡¯t kill myself, because I know there¡¯s worse waiting for me in hell. I can¡¯t keep living like this, because I¡¯m going to fucking snap. I¡¯m trapped. There are only three options: die, lose my shit, or keep doing the same shit for eternity, and I have no real choice but to try my best for the last option. There¡¯s nothing good even waiting for me once I die. All these awful shitty people get to go to heaven and do whatever the fuck one does once your past the pearly gates, but I¡¯m too much of a freak to get in. I can¡¯t live like this. I can¡¯t I can¡¯t I can¡¯t I can¡¯t. I know I¡¯m going to see my dad in my dreams tonight, but fuck him. Unless he somehow knows a way that I can continue to pretend to be normal, he¡¯s useless.


    It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m just being dramatic. It¡¯s fine.


    Anyways. My father¡¯s punishment will take effect on Sunday night. I don¡¯t care what happens to me, someone has to make sure he suffers.


    Joshua


    June 12, 1/4


    My dad was¡­ displeased, to say the least, that I¡¯m struggling so much. Let¡¯s pretend I¡¯m still only dreaming when I see him. It was terrifying. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen him actually angry with me. Usually he¡¯s just being a nightmare to prove a point or, more commonly, to scare the shit out of me, but last night he was furious. Or whatever emotion he¡¯s capable of. He was all void and darkness and terror, and I came out the other side of his visit unsteady. He wants me to maintain my sense of normalcy, and he made it clear that I can¡¯t ruin his design. And he¡¯s the one thing I¡¯m afraid of disobeying.


    But it¡¯s just a nightmare, isn¡¯t it. Just a strange recurring nightmare. He can¡¯t hurt you, he¡¯s just a figment of your imagination!


    He suggested that I find a method of control suitable for my lineage. I think he was implying something to do with punishing myself. It¡¯s not like I can do what his¡­ father did to him, that¡¯s obvious enough, but maybe I can find an alternative. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m even writing this down. Whatever, it¡¯s not like you know what I¡¯m talking about.


    About my father - I mixed his whiskey and his gin with antifreeze. The content of ethylene glycol should be high enough to poison him if he drinks the same amount he does every Sunday. He gets drunk every Sunday like clockwork, so this should work. It doesn¡¯t take much antifreeze to harm someone, and luck will decide if he dies from the minimal dose. Hopefully I don¡¯t kill him. I¡¯m prepared to call an ambulance if need be. I¡¯ll try to get my mother to stay at the church and talk to her friends for as long as possible so we can avoid him long enough for the poisoning to kick in. Maybe I can get her to let me drive myself to Thomas¡¯s house for a visit. I¡¯ll return in time to make sure my father doesn¡¯t keel over, but even if he did, the life insurance policy he¡¯s been paying for is worth enough to keep our house and keep me attending Westpoint and eventually a nice ivy league. My mother and I will survive this no matter what. I¡¯m sure my mother and dad can find some way of keeping us afloat.


    My date with Natalie tonight went well. Whatever.


    Joshua


    June 13, 1/4


    My poisoning was very successful, and my father is at the hospital. Good. I fucking hate him. According to the doctors, it¡¯s almost certain that he¡¯ll survive, but he¡¯ll need to stay on bedrest while he recovers. I¡¯ll still need to do my internship at this time, but everything should work out. He¡¯ll likely still do his job even while he¡¯s at the hospital, considering it¡¯s the only distraction other than drinking he allows himself to escape his miserable life with. No one suspects me. If I¡¯m lucky they¡¯ll never even realize it is a poisoning, or they¡¯ll suspect some kind of suicide attempt, thought I shouldn¡¯t bet on it.


    I had a good time with Thomas today. We drove around for a bit, and we picked up some groceries again. He let it slip that his father hasn¡¯t gotten groceries in two weeks and himself and Eliza have been reduced to eating out of cans while his father picks up fast food for himself. I felt calmer about that than I usually do. It doesn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t pissed, but I didn¡¯t have the usual urge to dismember the man and hide him in trash cans around the town. I paid for Thomas¡¯s groceries and drove him home. When I went to drop him off, I found myself unconsciously leaning towards him. He didn¡¯t seem to notice my embarrassing mistake.


    My mother is distressed, of course she is, but I like to think she¡¯s relieved, too. I need to believe that.


    I don¡¯t feel my dad¡¯s presence tonight. I think that¡¯s the closest I¡¯ll ever get to him being proud of me.


    June 13, 1/4


    What have I done? What the actual fuck was I thinking? I can¡¯t sleep, and for once it isn¡¯t because I¡¯m afraid of whatever I¡¯m going to dream about. I could have killed my father. I hate him, of course I hate him, but killing him? My dad would be proud, and that¡¯s not a good thing. The feeling of power from it was most certainly fucking temporary. I could have ruined our lives. And for all I know he¡¯ll piece it together from what little evidence there is. I made sure to dispose of the bottle of antifreeze, but that doesn¡¯t mean he won¡¯t just take another gander at the bottles. I feel this urge to tell my mother, beg for her help, but I¡­ I¡¯m not sure she would help me. Sometimes I think my status as her favorite son is second to her beloathed husband. I can¡¯t let anyone find out. I can¡¯t.


    Joshua


    June 14, 1/4


    My mother knocked on my door this morning, and when I got up to open it for her, she looked concerned and distressed. She whispered that dad had visited her. I froze. She hasn¡¯t seen dad since her last days of pregnancy. I hesitantly asked her what he said, and she just shook her head like I had asked her where dogs go when they die. Then she told me to come help her throw away the bottles of booze.


    So she knew. She knew what I did, and she didn¡¯t even chastise me for it. But I¡¯m her ¡°little angel¡±. Why isn¡¯t she shocked or disappointed or surprised? I¡¯m supposed to be her gift from god himself, isn¡¯t she even a little horrified that I did something so cruel and, to be entirely honest with myself, evil? But she said nothing about it. It¡¯s almost like she doesn¡¯t care about what I¡¯ve done.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    We got rid of the bottles, and then my mother went and purchased all new bottles and poured them out until they resembled their previous counterparts. We put them all back wordlessly, and then my mother drove me to my internship.


    The office was in disarray. Apparently my father is useful in some part of the world. Agatha caught me by the arm as I was trying to collect some papers another paralegal had dropped and asked me to go get coffee. I frowned and asked her why people would want coffee right now, and she said something about caffeine addiction and withdrawal. I left and got everyone their coffee from the little cafe on the corner of the block, and when I came back Agatha was helping take care of the paralegals while the other lawyers ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. I handed everyone their coffee, and they seemed inordinately relieved. Maybe Agatha is right about the whole caffeine addiction thing.


    The day seemed to get itself in order after that. I felt pretty bad that everyone was visibly working harder and stressed because of the absence of my father. There also seemed to be an air of contempt, and on more than once occasion I heard the newer or lower level employees talking about how my father was an ass for getting ]drunk and putting everyone in this situation. On one hand, I knew it was actually my fault that my father wasn¡¯t there, but on the other, I just wanted to scream that every sunday with my father was like that. I reigned the urge in easily enough.


    Agatha eventually pulled me aside and thanked me for my help and told me that I could take the rest of the day off, word from on high. For a moment I was kind of bewildered, because I¡¯m certain my father would never call in from the hospital and ask them to let me go for the day. The next moment was spent briefly considering if my father had died and this was her nice way of letting me go to the hospital to see for myself. She must have seen the look on my face, because she patted my shoulder and told me that they had just ran out of things to ask me to do. I sighed in relief without even realizing I did it until later.


    My mother picked me up. It was an awkward ride, because neither of us spoke and more importantly because I was panicking over whether or not I should acknowledge what happened this morning. Eventually I turned to her and thanked her for her help. We both knew what I was talking about. My mother replied that she loved me, and that I shouldn¡¯t forget that. I won¡¯t.


    When we arrived at the house, I told her that I was going to go to bed without dinner. She seemed worried, but she let me leave. I went straight here.


    My father has been punished. I need some kind of punishment as well for what I¡¯ve done to everyone. The only question is what kind of punishment will it be? Nothing with an obvious scar, surely.


    Joshua


    June 16, 1/4


    I went over to Thomas¡¯s house today, and he had bruises on his face. I think one of them was in the shape of a hand. I felt that black curl of hatred well up inside of me, but I took a deep breath and dug my nails into my palm. It helped. I asked him gently if he wanted to do anything about his latest injuries, and he just glanced to the side and said something about this not being the time. I hope the time comes soon, then. He asked me how my internship was going, and I told him about Agatha and how she¡¯s been ¡°really helping me settle in¡± or something else mundane. He raised his eyebrows and asked if I had really come around on my father¡¯s internship or if I was just bullshitting. I told him that I didn¡¯t exactly like it there, but Agatha really was a nice woman.


    He asked me how my father¡¯s been, probably trying to see if my father had done anything physical to me lately, and I told him that my father was in the hospital because he got too drunk. That stunned Thomas for a moment before he asked if that was really a thing. I laughed. I asked him if his father had ever gotten alcohol poisoning, and for a while he couldn¡¯t answer before quietly admitting that he just didn¡¯t know. Holy fuck. I asked him if he had ever heard of it before and he said that he hadn¡¯t.


    I brought Thomas to my car and explained to him the signs of alcohol poisoning, and his eyes grew wider and wider as he became more and more horrified. I gently asked if that sounded like anything his father had ever gone through, and he nodded mutely.


    And then like a horrible, monstrous version of a flash of inspiration struck like lightning, I had an idea on a way to easily kill his father. All I would have to do was to do to Gary what I did to my father and then beg Thomas not to call the cops. The only hard part would be getting Thomas to be complicit, and getting any investigators not to suspect me after my father had suffered from something similar. But I¡¯m cunning. I could do it, and I feel sick just knowing that.


    We talked some more, and Thomas eventually asked me if I was okay. I shook my head as though I was amused and told him that I was fine, just a little worried for Thomas. He took the lie hesitantly. Thomas is getting to know me far too well. It¡¯s only a matter of time before he finds out what I really am, what I¡¯m really like. I drove myself home shortly thereafter.


    My mother got a call from the hospital that my father will be home next Monday, the 21st. I¡¯m¡­ almost afraid.


    Joshua


    June 17, 1/4


    I almost forgot, but Jonathan called me this morning and reminded me to come to his birthday party. I¡¯ve been so wrapped up in myself that I didn¡¯t even know what he was talking about for a moment. I called into my father¡¯s office to ask for a day off, and when I was told to call my father and ask him instead, I did. It was the first time I spoke to my father since the incident, and it didn¡¯t go well. He told me to do my job or face the consequences. I am so sick of him.  I called Jonathan back and said I¡¯d be there after four, and he thanked me for showing up at all.


    Things at the internship were fine today. Agatha pulled me aside and asked me if my mother and I were doing alright. I assured her that my mother and I were just fine, if a bit shaken. She patted my shoulder and told me she was proud of me for taking care of my mother while my father was gone or something to that effect. What an odd thing to say. I don¡¯t do anything for my mother, I¡¯m aware of that. I only make her life worse. But for some reason it seemed like Agatha didn¡¯t care about that sort of perception.


    I went to the grocery store afterwards and picked up some bags of chips before driving over to Jonathan¡¯s house. His parents were very interested in helping us decorate before they left for their date, and they would do strange things like ruffle their son¡¯s hair when he said something they thought was funny or charming or check in on us while we were working on getting the house ready. It was¡­ weird. I¡¯ve never really seen parents do that outside of children¡¯s movies.


    The party started at eight, so at a certain point we ran out of preparations and began just talking. Jonathan began to talk about romantic relationships, getting into a long tangent about Natalie and how everyone is so jealous of me and how he wishes he had a girlfriend. It was an uninteresting conversation. Having a girlfriend means nothing. It¡¯s just something that happens sometimes. I don¡¯t know, it just seems to me that if everyone pretended to be normal they could get whatever romantic partner they desire. Being attractive and not a complete ass goes a long way.


    The party eventually got underway. Natalie arrived in a carpool with her friends, and as always she looked stunning, perfect even. She¡¯s very particular and neat about her appearance. I abandoned Jonathan from there as the house grew more and more crowded. Natalie and I enjoyed dancing for a good while, but eventually we got tired and Natalie wandered over to the kitchen, where people were storing the alcohol. Natalie drank very moderately compared to other parties.


    Adam and Abraham were there - the only two football kids. Adam seemed like he was squinting the whole time, trying to parse out what the hell he was looking at and where the hell he was. Natalie and I had fun laughing at him, and Natalie told me about how she used to have a crush on Abraham. It was oddly sweet of her.


    Eventually we both got sick of it and wished Jonathan a happy birthday before I drove Natalie home. It was nice to do something other than worry about my father and what he¡¯ll do when he comes home. I know that makes me a monster, but it was nice to pretend for a moment that I am not.


    Joshua


    June 20, 1/4


    My father comes home tomorrow, and because of that, Thomas called me today. He asked me how I was doing and had a particularly calm and soothing tone when he spoke. He was trying to comfort me. It worked. His voice is so beautiful. I would say it¡¯s like an angel¡¯s but I have a distaste for those things. It¡¯s almost melodic. It¡¯s so soft and sweet, and hearing him today was like being a kid again and hiding in a pillow fort from my parents, safe and secure. I don¡¯t know, maybe that¡¯s wrong too. While Thomas was talking, I drew him. The drawing looked a lot more like him, with softer eyes and a rounder face. I¡¯ll upload it when I can. I drew him without the Westpoint uniform and instead depicted him wearing that sweater he loves so much and his cleaning gloves. I think it¡¯s a lot more accurate.


    Thomas eventually was screamed at by his father in the background of the call and had to go. I wished him luck and told him to call me if anything goes wrong. So far he hasn¡¯t.


    I love him.


    Joshua


    June 21, 1/4


    My father came home today. He was not glad to be home. After he broke a few dishes and dislocated a chair¡¯s leg, he stormed up to his room. I saw my mother hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, looking up to the hallway where the bedrooms reside. She clearly didn¡¯t want to go up and comfort him, but she went upstairs anyway. The sounds of shouting quickly came from their room, all my father¡¯s doing.


    I stayed down in the living room so that there¡¯d be a little space between myself and my parents. I usually spend all of my time at my house either in my room or at family meals. It felt weird to be outside of my room. I had the strangest sense of being watched, but for once I doubt there was anything there.


    My mother came back down the stairs in tears, and the door slammed behind her as she left her bedroom. I asked her if she wanted any help making dinner, and she told me that she just wanted to be alone. I gave her the space she needed.


    I wish I could call Thomas again today, but as I write this my mother is in the kitchen and she¡¯d hear my phone call. I don¡¯t want her to notice how infatuated I sound when I speak to him over the phone. It¡¯s disgusting.


    Joshua


    June 21, 1/4


    My father insisted on driving me to his firm today. He greeted his employees and the other lawyers gruffly as he led me in, a hand on my back, and ushered me into the paralegal¡¯s cubicle area. He then told me to not make myself a burden and dropped me off.


    Agatha looked a little confused, and so did everyone else honestly, but I just got to work. There were more papers to shred, but since there wasn¡¯t as much build up it didn¡¯t take nearly as long. Then I got everyone their coffees, took everyone¡¯s orders for Chinese, and went to go pick it all up from Xiang¡¯s. After that I began helping Agatha with her work, and the day slowly passed. Eventually it was nearing the end of the work day, and I was getting worried because my mother and father had not called me to let me know one of them was coming to pick me up. It¡¯s not like my town has a cab system that lets 15 year olds pay for rides. And then Agatha asked me if my dad was coming. When I reluctantly told her I wasn¡¯t sure, she offered me a ride. I tried to say that I didn¡¯t want to take advantage of her, but she insisted that it¡¯d make things easier for everyone if I didn¡¯t sleep at the office. That made me agree.


    The ride home was tense. Agatha kept glancing over at me, and it looked like she wanted to talk. When she dropped me off, the sun was low in the sky. I stepped out of my car with my bag, and Agatha got out with me. I thought it was strange, but I didn¡¯t say anything as I walked up to the front door. She followed me. I turned back and frowned, trying to communicate a hint of ¡°what do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± in a polite manner, but she just smiled at me. I knocked on the door.


    My father opened it and looked down at me with a sickeningly false smile. He gave Agatha nothing more than a glance. He ¡°welcomed¡± me home, and I went to awkwardly step in through the slim crack of the doorway he had left for me. Agatha spoke up. She said in a remarkably calm voice that she didn¡¯t know where my father got the idea to abandon his kid at the workplace, but that she couldn¡¯t be responsible for me. My father immediately apologized and told her that he had no intention of leaving me there for much longer, he was even just packing up to come to the office, and really he is so sorry that she had to drive me all this way for nothing. Her expression hardened into a professional glare, and my father slowly broke into a leering grin. ¡°Well, just to be clear, I¡¯m not going to tolerate being left with your child. And tell Joshua that he¡¯s welcome to ask me for a ride any other time you abandon him.¡± That¡¯s what she said. My father¡¯s expression fell.


    I endured some yelling from him about how I¡¯m so worthless that I couldn¡¯t even get myself home today, and my mother made dinner almost silently in the background. But it felt¡­ nice. Knowing that Agatha has my back, that she agrees that my father is a useless piece of shit. I was sent to my room without dinner, which will be fine so long as it doesn¡¯t happen for too long. I¡¯m not planning to do that again.


    Goodnight, computer.


    Joshua


    June 22, 1/4


    My father berated me this morning and tried to ensure I wouldn¡¯t take Agatha¡¯s offer, but he still has no real authority over me that doesn¡¯t come from threats. My mother fed me breakfast, so it looks like this isn¡¯t another food based punishment. I was dropped off by him, but this time he actually stuck around to work. I got everyone their coffees, and Agathe offered to show me some of her work. It was fascinating. She researches older cases that have arguments that relate to the current case, and then compiles the information for whoever¡¯s actually defending the client. It¡¯s a little less interesting than I¡¯d like, being corporate law rather than criminal, but it is still fascinating.


    My father disappeared around lunch, so I picked up everyone else¡¯s orders and left his order out. I suspected that he was going to pull the same shit as yesterday, and I was not alone in that suspicion. I went back to hang out with Agatha, and eventually she sighed, stopped what she was doing, and asked if I would like a ride home. I said yes with a please, even, and we drove back to my house. She dropped me off and I came back in. My father proceeded to throw an absolute tantrum as I just watched. He screamed in my face, knocked things off of their shelves (nothing breakable! That would be too expensive for him!), and generally imitated a mosquito that won¡¯t just die.


    I think this week will be better.


    Joshua


    June 24, 1/4


    I went over to Thomas¡¯s house today, and I brought some lunch - just some sandwiches from the local deli and two sodas. He seemed delighted to see me, and he invited me to his backyard. I asked how Eliza is doing in her summer program, and he told me that she''s doing fantastically as he tore into his sandwich. I politely asked him if his father had been getting them groceries, and Thomas nodded. I asked if I could see these said groceries, and he reluctantly brought me back inside. The only vegetables were iceberg lettuce and baby carrots, the fruit was canned fruit cocktails, and there were eggs and ground beef with some ramen and poptarts. I felt that rage again, that hatred, but it wasn¡¯t cold this time. It burned. I turned to Thomas, who seemed to almost be flinching, and told him that once we were done eating we would go get groceries. Thomas then said that his father gets mad whenever I do that, saying that it¡¯s embarrassing to have to get ¡°handouts¡± from Thomas¡¯s friends and that Thomas should stop begging. I asked Thomas if he had ever gotten physical about this subject. Thomas told me he had not. I told him to call me or the cops if that changed.


    We went grocery shopping at Thomas¡¯s favorite store, the one with the organic section, and I paid. He didn¡¯t get much, he never does, but I can tell he¡¯s planning out his meals to be economical and give him plenty of leftovers. He¡¯s smart, I know this, but I haven¡¯t said it in a while. He eyed a family sized bag of potato chips and I threw it in the cart.


    When we returned, his father was likely on the way home from work with Thomas¡¯s sister Eliza. I helped him put away the groceries and got out of there before I would become a problem. I wonder if I could ask Thomas to cook for me? That sounds wonderful. I could get him whatever ingredients he desires, and he could make whatever he wants. It would be lovely.


    Joshua


    June 26, 1/4


    Natalie invited me to the drive in movie theater, and we watched Omen. Natalie got all scared and we did the thing where she clings to me and I put an arm around her shoulders. The movie was¡­ interesting. It seemed fairly accurate to what an anti-christ figure would be like, I guess. He was just evil. Nothing else to him. It was disturbing to watch, but at the same time fascinating. I don¡¯t think Natalie and I were the intended audience for it.


    My dad stopped trying to leave me at the firm and now my mother picks me up. He¡¯s slowly easing back into work, it seems like the anti freeze really did a number on him. My mother seemed relieved to not have to leave me there anymore and personally thanked Agatha. Agatha seemed privately unimpressed by my mother, and I was caught between being offended on my mother¡¯s behalf and almost¡­ agreeing? My mother is just as much a victim of my father as I am, but sometimes I wonder why she doesn¡¯t just stand up to him. But I know it isn¡¯t that simple, that my mother could be seriously hurt if she defied him, that we¡¯d lose everything. I have a feeling my father is looking for an excuse to cut us out of his life. He¡¯s too much of a coward to go through with it, but it doesn¡¯t stop him from looking.


    Joshua


    June 27, 1/4


    I had another dream about my dad last night. He was telling me that I would be joining him soon, that his design for me was coming to fruition. Just some of his standard creepy ass shit, but he was using more... imminent language than usual. And then he stepped aside and revealed a version of me stretched out over an animal¡¯s bones, twisted and distorted and so very, very wrong. It was like looking at a taxidermized mermaid from an oddity shop but it moved and took labored breaths like it was living. I still had to talk to him after that.


    Things are going well at my internship. Thomas seems to be okay and Natalie and I see eachother pretty much every week. My parents are doing the same shit as always. I am 15 and I am safe in my home.


    Joshua


    June 29, 1/4


    I beat DOOM today. I was procrastinating on doing it, but I finally beat the game. I should probably pick out something else to play, but I do like the game. DOOM II seems like a good pick going forward.


    Joshua