The room is eerily silent and the door is shut. The silence allows for the safety of soft muffled cries to escape past trembling lips and into the stale air surrounding his fetal position on the floor between his dresser and window.
His eyes are squeezed shut as tears continue to leak from his eyes and his fingers still grip the carpet that comforts him with its warmth and soft feel. Jake knows mom isn't in the room anymore, but his body still trembles with the after effects of the belt whipping across his body viciously.
It's not his first time he's shoved his face into the carpet crying out all the pain and misery of the brutal situation that left him to recover with endless tears, soft sobs and nonstop trembling.
His body burns. He doesn't need to move to feel the intense throbbing on his arms and legs from the lingering whips. They sting and it lingers despite his mental state of mind.
Marc had always worn long pants, but when Jake had fronted he was in pajama shorts. It was odd, but not questionable. Jake could sense another alter within his head space. Had the other not known of what was going on? Did they not know Marc wore long pants and long sleeves to purposely shield himself from his mothers abuse?
The thought never dwelled long enough when Jake began to slowly lift himself onto his hands and knees while warm tears rolled down his rosy cheeks. A couple choked sobs made it past his lips when he managed to push his back against the side of his dresser. Drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, he's facing his unmade bed.
He feels helpless and the thought brings another wave of tears to his eyes. Everything aches, but he tries to breath to keep himself together. Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath through his mouth and exhales. His nose is stuffed and leaks in between sniffles.
Wiping a sleeve across the tip of his nose, Jake hisses softly at the movement that catches his attention. His glossy eyes trail his hand that throbs with a heartbeat. Staring at his palm, he sees a red mark covering the tips of his four fingers. He moves them slightly and immediately finds out it’s his pinky that’s throbbing. Mom got a good swing at his hand. There’s a numbing hot pain to it’s touch and a slight bruising that begins to show in the faintest purple on his finger nail.
“It’s okay..” Jake tells himself even when a fallen tear tells him otherwise.
He can take it.
Gently he cradles his injured hand to his chest. He’d take care of his pinky until it was better and not hurting so much. As his body begins to tremble less and his adrenaline slowly begins to wash away, aches throughout this body begin to come alive. He’d think he’d be use to this by now, but the after shock always brought his distress into a mild anger.
There’s a knock at his window that shakes him with a flinch before his eyes dart toward the glass. He squints naturally because it’s bright outside, but he doesn’t see anything other than the bush that’s right outside his window.
It doesn’t make sense when another knock taps the window, so Jake drops his un-injured hand to the carpet and carefully pushes himself onto his feet. He takes a timid step forward toward the window and sees what he hadn’t seen before when the knock happens again.
It’s a humming bird. Not one of those small ones he’s seen outside before, but more of a decently sized one. It’s dark green with a grey-ish black beak. Flying in place, the bird hits the window again. Jake feels his brows furrow questionably at the action. The bird seemed to be confused?
Knocking on the window over and over again at its reflection. It’s interesting and odd to see. It’s as if the little bird was trying to get his attention. Jake takes another step, leaning forward to get a better look. He witnesses the birds beady black eyes land on his brown ones. He feels like he’s imagining the eye contact between himself and the bird that stops it’s knocking the moment he acknowledges him.
Intrigued yet fascinated by the strange coincidence, Jake bites on his bottom lip in habit and instantly feels a sharp twinge. He hisses at the jolt in his lip that stings at the slightest touch from his tongue and it raises awareness.
The humming bird is lost from sight when he turns and walks toward his mirror. The knocking of the bird is heard again, but Jake doesn’t pay it any mind when he sees his reflection. His eyes are drawn to his bottom lip that was flawed with a cut and bleeding lightly.
He didn’t realize he’d caused his lip to bleed when he’d bit down on it during moms attack. He hadn’t felt it earlier, but now he did as the numbness began to fade away. Scanning his entire frame from his legs to his arms, Jake saw the red belt marks on his olive skin.
His legs were covered with thick belt lines and his arms had a couple good lashes that would soon to bruise. It made him upset and filled his chest with a frustration that he was overwhelmed to express when his eyes glossed once more from the feeling of being desperate.
He was suppose to protect Marc, but he couldn’t protect him from this. The beatings. All he was good for was taking the beatings and the verbal abuse that mom would spit at him before whacking him. Jake couldn’t protect Marc from mom and the feelings simmered in his chest each time.
When mom came into the room her eyes were lost and dark. There was no warmth or comfort when she came walking in with a look of disgust written on her exhausted face. She held a plate of breakfast in her hand, but it wasn’t in her hold for long when she tossed it to the carpet causing Jake to flinch at the unexpected action.
Jake stood in the middle of the room, hands balled next to his sides and staring at mom when she grabs the belt from its hook..
Pain is all he sees when he looks at her. It’s all he knew when she came into the room to do what she did best.
“You’re ungrateful, Marc..” She speaks, eyes narrowing toward the young boy who watches her every move when she makes her way toward him, folding the belt into a circle,”I make you breakfast and you can’t even come down stairs to have some.” she spits as she stands in front of him and lowers herself to his gaze.
Jake feels his body go into a familiar state of shock as it subconsciously prepares itself for what’s to come when mom speaks. Her breathe reeks of alcohol and her words are disgusted with his every existence.
“You can starve for all I care.” She growls before she brings her arm back and whacks him across his body with the belt. It stings viciously as Jake raises his hands to cover his face, but it’s doesn’t help much when another whip of the belt hits him harder this time and causes his feet to give out beneath him.
He curls into himself to protect whatever he can from the thick leather that continues to swat him as he tries to muffle his sobs. He forgets when he started screaming when the burning all across his body began to rage with each swat. Mom doesn’t stop and it causes the tears in his eyes to sting in a new feeling of helplessness when knowing he can’t do anything about it..
“M-Mom, Please—“
“It should’ve been you!” She yells with on last swat that cracks against his fore arms. Jake cries. Unable to hold in the pain any longer, he shakes violently with sobs that wrack his body. He feels like he’s on fire even when mom stands up and walks out the room, slamming the door shut without another word.
Now he’s blind with a new feeling of anger when he angrily reaches for one of Marc’s action figures and throws it towards the window. The sound of the toy hitting the window startles the humming bird when it’s stops it’s knocking and flies in place.
Jake gasps when he sees the arm of the toy action figure fly off and hit the ground. No! It was Marc’s favorite.
“No—“ Jake whines before scurrying to the window seal and grabbing the action figure. He kneels down on the floor and picks up the arm that flung from the plastic figure that brought Marc joy.
“I’m sorry..” he sniffles while trying to plug the plastic back into its place. It keeps popping back out and it washes Jake with guilt,” I’m sorry” he apologies again, trying once more to put the arm back on the toy, but fails. He can only force so much pressure with an injured hand. With tears clouding his vision, Jake carefully places the action figure onto the carpet even though he wants to throw it again.
Instead a soft sob escapes past his wet lips once again.
He’s failed.
Raising his hands to his face, he cries softly into them,” I’m sorry, Marc.. I’m sorry” he hiccups feeling a knot begin to tie in his throat at the guilt,” I—I promise I’ll do better.” he knows Marc can’t hear him, but he wants to hear himself. Jake promised he would do better at protecting Marc and saying it out loud helped.
He knows he’s not alone, he’s got Marc, but he still feels lonely. Marc doesn’t know he’s there and Jake knows why. At his age he’s smart enough to know why he’s here with Marc.
In his brief moment of soft sobs and silence a strange feeling of comfort grazes his mind. He hears tapping coming from the window again from the hummingbird he’s been seeing for a while now. It’s comforting to know the bird hadn’t left, but stayed.
With one last sniffle, Jake removes his hands from his face and turns his head to see his little friend at the window. The sight of the bird fills him with an unfamiliar warmth when it’s beaded black eyes meet his.
Just maybe he’s not as alone as he thought he was when a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.