3. Scream
Chapter three
Scream
NOAH
Isighed and took a moment to catch my breath and check my phone for the time.
It was one in the morning, and I knew that my mom must literally be going crazy with worry.
The fact that I was nineteen didn’t seem to matter; my mother made it clear after high school graduation that I would still be her baby boy, always and forever.
My dad, on the other hand, couldn’t care less where I was or what I did.
Technically, he hadn’t really been my “dad” in years.
He was simply David to me now. Many years ago when he realized that I wasn’t a genius or good in school, David gave up on me altogether.
My grades were never perfect, unlike my brother Damian’s.
David managed to squeeze a 4.0 GPA out of Damian his whole life, making my grades look less than pitiful in comparison.
His disdain only increased for me when my mediocre grades took a larger than usual nosedive in 7th grade.
I never once had a passing grade for the next two years after that.
I didn’t stop failing until I made new friends.
Drugs and Alcohol. The only true friends one could ask for.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact day that I started to get high, but I knew I had to have been around thirteen years old or so.
Somehow, the drugs put an ease on the world of school and I was able to get by.
They helped me. Maybe it was the confidence, or the chill nature that my drugs would provide.
Whatever it was, I knew that without the satisfaction drugs brought, I probably wouldn’t have ever overcome some of my other, more serious issues.
Besides, I could stop whenever I felt like it.
But I didn’t want to.
In the end, I graduated from high school as a nobody. The teachers were just happy that they didn’t have to deal with my attitude and flirtatiousness another year. To say that I “whored around” was an understatement. I would have seduced half the staff too, if I had gotten the opportunity.
When the day of diplomas arrived, there weren’t many family members there for me.
I didn’t really have a big support system, but I didn’t mind.
My mom and Damian were the only two Hansens that attended the ceremony.
David was not present. I remembered feeling butterflies in my stomach when I strode onstage.
I could still imagine the feeling of grasping hold of my diploma as an uproar from my classmates began ringing through my ears.
That was one of the few times in my youth that I recalled feeling genuinely happy.
I had kept thinking to myself: I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally accomplished something good.
But then I looked into the crowd of people and didn’t see the person I wanted to see most. My father, the person I had been trying to impress my whole life, was not there. The feeling of happiness vanished, and I shrank into myself with disappointment. Bitterness. Resentment.
Hatred.
Throughout my entire youth, I killed myself with difficult tasks and work to try and impress David. I never stopped trying to please him. Even after the pain he put me through, I still wanted him to see me. I was a stupid and na?ve child, and I craved my father’s approval, acceptance and love.
I never received it. Even on the most important day of my life.
So, I stopped trying. It was easier. I emotionally detached myself from my family so that I would not care anymore when I was inevitably let down. I especially distanced myself from Damian; he was a mirror who reflected what I could never become.
David had been unfazed by my distance from the family. In fact, the rift between us probably helped our relationship some, if you could call it that. I wondered at times if he even remembered that he had two sons, not just one.
Regardless, I knew that I was never deserving of my father’s love, anyway.
I was content with knowing that I was the biggest disappointment in his life.
I happily disappeared into the background of day to day life.
My father continued being the heartless bastard he wanted to be, and I drifted on by, like a storm cloud rolling over an open field.
David continued to train Damian to obey him like a lap dog so that he would one day follow in his same godforsaken footsteps.
I watched with contempt, my hatred for their connection fueling my love for drugs and alcohol.
And of course, Damian didn’t understand me either. He was a golden boy, perfect in every aspect of his being and character. “He’s going to be something one day”, the neighbors would excitedly tell our mother. “Such a great man”, others would croon.
Damian was father’s shadow, and it was unbearable.
My lips curled in disgust at the memories. I no longer wanted to relive them. My mother was the only one I genuinely cared about, and I needed to contact her.
I touched the cell phone in my back pocket.
I truly loved my mom, and I hated worrying her.
She was the best part of my childhood after Damian got lost in the attention and public recognition.
She was the only one that treated me and my brother as equals, even though I was nowhere near as special as Damian.
I would do anything for my mom, no matter how silly the request because she was the one I loved the most.
They tell you not to pick and choose favorites.
But that’s just too damn bad.
I pulled out the phone and dialed the number to my house. My mom wasn’t allowed to carry her own cell phone.
I ran a hand through my hair as it rang. I never knew what it was about the ringing of a phone that unnerved me. Maybe it was the fact that I never knew who was going to be on the other end when it stopped.
“Hello?”
Relief. “Mom.”
“Noah?” She sounded groggy. I felt bad for waking her.
“Yeah.” I murmured.
“My god, I was so worried!” Her voice cracked, “Dear, I swear you will be the end of me. Where in the heck are you?”
I kept it short and sweet, “Out,” I answered.
She huffed. “Well, please get home soon. It’s dangerous outside at this time of night, you know that.”
“Mom, I’m nineteen,” I reminded.
“I know, I know, but it’s really late...”
I smiled. “I just called to tell you that I’m on my way.”
A sigh. “Oh, good.”
She was silent for a moment before asking. “Are you...okay?”
My eyes narrowed, a brief image of the encounter with Thorne played like a movie across my mind. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
I knew that she understood my question. David could be abusive at times, especially when Damian and I weren’t there to stick up for her. I couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t left the loser yet, but whenever I asked she would simply shrug and state that love could do strange things to people.
I remembered my answer to her after she spoke those words. “If turning into a monster in front of my wife and children is the definition of love, then I want no part in it.”
And it was the truth. Because of my fear that I would become like David, I hadn’t had a steady relationship with a girl since I was in elementary school.
Which was an absolutely ridiculous concept.
An elementary school “relationship” probably consisted of hand holding and lunch sharing, not an actual representation of a real relationship with another adult.
I vaguely recalled exchanging bracelets and holding a girl’s hand as we walked from lunch to class.
But even that didn’t really count, because we were only little children.
Innocent and unaware of the world’s cruelty.
And the evil that lurked beneath the surface.
“Of course, I am, sweetheart. Of course,” my mother murmured into the phone quietly.
I continued walking, but the weed was making my mind uneasy. I couldn’t shake it.
“Is Damian there?”
Typically, either of us made sure to be at the house when David was home from work.
I hated leaving my mother alone because that’s when David would drink the most and act the worst. Truthfully, he was a fucking slob with no morals.
I had considered fighting him on multiple occasions, and if I had the physical strength to go against him, I would.
Unfortunately, David was about a foot taller than me and twice my weight, so challenging him wouldn’t end well.
But if it meant protecting my mom, I would place myself in harm’s way in a heartbeat.
Silence returned from the receiver.
I swallowed nervously. “I’ll be there soon.”
“I love you, Noah.” She barely whispered it.
“I love you too.”
I clicked the phone shut and placed it back into my pocket, quickening my walking pace so that I could get home faster.
I was feeling the exhaustion from the events of the evening.
A fear that something bad would happen to my mother if I wasn’t there continued to tug at me.
I did not trust David alone with my mom.
He always took advantage of her kindness when no one was there to stop him, and if he didn’t get what he wanted, he would take it by force.
He was cruel and cold, and his wrath was unforgiving.
Too many times did I come home to see my mother being thrown across the room, fresh purple splotches covering her cheeks and arms, my father so drunk that he wouldn’t even remember beating her when he woke up.
And then my mom would treat the situation like nothing, smiling at him in the morning and cooking him breakfast all the while knowing that he could have killed her the night before.
She never complained, never cried in front of us, never raised her voice.
Never stopped him. In reality, what could she do?
She was married to one of the most powerful monsters in this city, and he oversaw all law enforcement in the vicinity.
She couldn’t seek help, couldn’t run. She wasn’t ever going to escape him, not until he died.
Or until I kill him, I thought bitterly.
I clenched my fists and turned a street corner.
Except for the occasional car that passed by, the lanes were empty and quiet.
The only sound I could hear was the insane beating of my own heart, like a drum.
The outdoor lamps flickered when I passed, as if they could feel the anger radiating off of me.
The stores and shops had no lights on, the “Closed” sign hanging ominously on several of the window frames. The streets were silent.
The Hansen mansion wasn’t that far from here, and yet it seemed like miles until I would reach it. I should have just called my fucking driver, but it was such an odd hour, I doubted they would reach him any faster than my feet could go.
Suddenly, a shrill broke the peace. “Let me go!”
At first, I was unaffected by the cry because the streets had been so undoubtedly serene. I immediately assumed my insanity was still playing with the strings of my mind, so I kept on walking without stopping.
“NO!”
But when I heard it the second time, I stopped, my curiosity making me wonder where the sound was coming from, and why the person seemed in distress. My eyes darted back in the direction of the bar, now about three blocks away.
I stilled, breathing slowly and listening intently. I waited for any noise to penetrate the silence once more, but there was nothing. I shook off the alarm and continued on, needing to get home and check on my mom.
“Somebody help me!”
I halted and my ears were tingling at attention. I hadn’t imagined it after all. The scream sounded like a female’s voice, coming from the alley, back the way I came.
“Please!” The voice in question was begging, screaming in a way that made my skin crawl and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
It was none of my business.
I didn’t like to get caught up in the drama of strangers.
I served this world as scenery, only good for the background, meant to stay out of everyone’s way.
Just look hot and do absolutely nothing worthwhile—that was me.
I followed my own set of rules and I pursued danger in a way that I saw fit, not the other way around.
This person, whoever they were, sounded as though they might be in an altercation.
I was too busy for it. I already got into enough fights on my own accord, I didn’t need to be showing up to a random one.
“It’s not my problem,” I said aloud, hoping that hearing it would make me feel better about leaving the woman to her own devices. But my stomach was in knots and my feet didn’t budge from their firm placement on the ground.
I had promised my mom that I would be home soon. I couldn’t keep her waiting.
“PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”
Why was she screaming so loud? Was someone hurting her? Someone else must have heard the distressed woman by now.
Someone will help her…right?
And then a thought made my blood run cold.
What if I was the only person that could save her?
Was it my duty to step in?
The answer was no. It was not my duty.
I went stiff. My skull hammered as memories assaulted me once more.
“Stop it, David! The children will see!”
“Fuck them. It’s you and me right now, baby.”
“Please stop this! You’re hurting me!”
I had been seven the day me and Damian saw our mother raped. I hadn’t been able to do anything but watch in horror as our father overtook our mother in the dining room. He hadn’t wanted to wait before she served him dinner.
Without wasting another second, I turned on my heels and sprinted back the way I came.
I hoped I wasn’t too late.