Page 101 of Heavy

Please come back.

“I can’t trust you not to do something stupid, so I’m going to have your uncle come watch you.”

“No…” I whisper.

His loud groan echoes for several seconds, forcefully getting outallhis frustration with me. As though I’m the bane of his existence. “He has missed you—”

“No!” I scream and bang my head against the door. “Dad, he touched me!” The words spill from my mouth so fast, the consequences don’t even register. This family is already broken—why am I still trying to protect them? What about me?!

“He hurt me. Me… your son, he—”

His grip on my shirt tears me back, but it’s his fist against my cheek that completely knocks me to the ground. Pain shoots through my face, and I swear my vision blurs in the eye closest to the impact. I raise my hand to touch it, but instantly pull it away, unable to stand the discomfort.

“You shut your fucking lying mouth. What is wrong with you?!”

I don’t know if I’m shaking, or if we are having an earthquake.

He comes to stand over me before taking my shirt and making me square my shoulders to him. “You could get him in a lot of fucking trouble with that lie.”

“I-I’m not lying!”

His hand raises back in a fist, and instinctually, I cower back.

“Please believe me, I swear!” Tears begin to spill from my eyes, “Dad, I-I never said anything because—”

He hits me again, this time into my hand which barely cushions the blow to my nose.

“I won’t have you saying these lies about your uncle. MY brother! He loves you and would never hurt you. You’re doing this for sympathy—for fucking attention. Did you tell your mother this? Is that why she babies you like she does?”

I don’t know if it’s snot or blood falling from my nose, but I don’t wipe it away to find out. Instead, I just move to my side and curl into a ball.

“You need help, Ronan. You haven’t seen your uncle in over a year. Then all of a sudden you want to say he’s touched you? That’s disgusting behavior.”

My knees touch my chest, and I just shut my eyes.

Please believe me…

“You’ll apologize to him yourself for this bullshit. I’m going to make an appointment with the psychologist. Maybe they can get you on some sort of meds.”

I’m sorry… Mom… Mom, please come back…

“If I hear you say that shit about your uncle again, a few hits will be the least of your problems.”

I should’ve never said anything…

I’m stuck…

Eamon. Mom. Help me.

AGE 17

I’m not entirely sure how I’ve survived these past three years, but now that I’m looking at the photos of a bloody, nearly dead, high school kid, maybe I shouldn’t be. I think I died that day my mom walked out and never came back.

“Sweetheart, I’ll get custody, but I can’t be with your father and he’s not letting me take you right now. He says… he says that I’m not good for you.”

My mom lost any and all custody of me. It was all because of what I said that day. My dad was afraid I’d tell her, and shewouldhave believed me and gone to the police. He was adamant that I was lying, and I wish I had been.

After that weekend, my uncle moved in with us. His abuse only got worse, and the men he invited over enjoyed what he called was his to have. Me.