Page 38 of Silent Damage

My feet travel down the broken sidewalk, sidestepping garbage, and thinking about one thing.

No, not my dickhead of a dad.

Gabe.

He shot out of his chair when Doug got angry and stepped right between us without a moment of hesitation.

Even after everything I did today: leaving him to clean up our mess, taunting him, and ruining his morning.

After all of that, Gabe still stepped in.

My feet stumble, but I catch myself before tumbling to the ground. I lean against an old building, rubbing my eyes, then slowly sink to the ground.

It’s so hard.

I don’t want to hurt anymore. I just want to open my arms and let Gabe in, but I can’t.

Don’t forget how much he hurt you!

But what he did today rearranged something inside me.

I walk through life angry and bitter at all the things that happened to me. I’m used to feeling that way.

When Gabe touched me so tenderly, everything got quiet—like it used to.

Gabe was too young to be my protector when we were kids, but he always held me when I needed it the most.

My mind travels back in time, thinking about the moments when Gabe used to take care of me—how he’d do things to pull me out of my misery with little gestures and make it better.

“Draw me a hydra,” I say.

Gabe’s drawings are sick. He’s so good. I try to think of weird, fucked up shit to challenge him, but he always aces it.

He barely needs to look at something for inspiration, but he often does just to make sure it’s right.

He’s not now, which will make this even more freaking awesome to watch.

Gabe looks at me, his lips curled in a grin, enjoying the challenge. “Should it be eating something?” he asks.

“Oh, he’s gonna show off, huh? Okay, dude, make it eat something, and it better be good.”

Gabe giggles and raises his knees so his pad is just half a foot from his face, and his eyes narrow.

This is my favorite part.

Watching him draw is a trip. Plus, he’s fast. He’ll have a whole three-headed monster drawn in just a few minutes, scales and all.

He shoots me a look, his dark brown eyes peeking up at me through his lashes.

My stomach gets all tingly.

“Ohh…the anticipation,” I say in a low, mocking tone.

“Fuck off. Just wait till you see it.”

“He talks a big game—“ I add.

Gabe leans back, assessing his work, then nods. He flips the picture to me and reveals…