THE BROKEN BOY

*Audra's point of view, 14 years ago*

Chris has been with us for 5 months now. Things are slowly adapting around here but it has taken us some time to get used to it.

Hell, we are still getting used to it.

It was soon pretty clear that Chris was used to making his own decisions and taking care of himself. He disappeared for hours and we were never able to locate him till he 'magically' reappeared in his room. At a certain point in those months, we barely saw him.

Mum didn't want to pressure him to do anything as she knew he was going through hard times but I could tell she was upset by his behaviour. At first, he seemed to be warming up to us but soon he built a wall around him and started acting cold.

You see, my mum was used to me being a good and responsible child, one you can trust, so she had no real rules for me.

She never liked rules or to cage a child with demands, so she raised me to be a child you can reason with and trust to make her own decisions. She wanted to apply this philosophy to Chris too, but as he wasn't raised exactly like me and he definitely wasn't acting the part, his situation didn't help either.

You could see her frustration and her indecision when it came to dealing with him and it was only getting worse. It didn't help either the fact that he didn't enter school.

With the funeral, the move, the process to foster him and all, it was a bit late in the school year. So, the headmaster told us he would have to wait for the next year. He had a lot to catch up already – or so he told us by checking his previous high school files – and putting him on this year so late would only lead him to have to repeat the course anyway, so it was probably better for him to wait so the process might not be as frustrating.

He added that this would give Chris time to 'integrate into the community and the family and that him being in the same grade as me could help him greatly, give him a friendly face to have around to and a tutor, in case of need'.

Yep, he was going to school with me next year, and not only that but also, we'll probably be put on most classes together.

Nice, isn't it? It would be if he started acting normal...

Slowly, I think, we are starting to break his shell. It's not much, but I feel that little by little we are starting to make progress. We didn't do much, but we tried to be there for him; talk to him, ask him about things, give him space when he needed it, take him on small trips and activities with us…

Little things we hoped would make him feel included.

One of the first times we saw him tear the wall down – at least for a bit – was when we took him out to choose the furniture and other stuff for his room. My mom explained that she wanted him to have his own space with things he liked. He was shocked at first, to our surprise, but as soon as we entered the store he was like a kid on Christmas day.

We could tell he never got the chance to do something like this back at home - no one asked for his opinion or much less let him choose anything. So, we made sure we did, and I think that was exactly how the wall was slowly – but surely – lowering down.

My mom was the most patient, she tried to make sure he felt supported and cared for all the time. I, on the other hand, had some trouble keeping up when he acted moodily and gave us the cold shoulder. The mood swings killed my patience.

But also, on very rare occasions, I was the one whom he opened up with - or even spent, willingly, time with. Maybe because of our first weird interactions I had gained that spot.

And also, because I wasn't going to put up with his shit all the time and I made sure he knew that.

I've been trying to get him to spend some more time with my mum, so he can get to know her but it's been to no avail.

Lately, he would get quite angry at her and I just can't stand it, most times he doesn't say much, maybe just walks away from us with a death glare, muttering under his breath and disappearing for the day. But today he got mad and shouted at her, pretty hurtful things actually, so I was definitely not going to let him get away with it, even when my mum begged me not to say a word.

"Chris, can I come in?" I asked loudly, nearly shouting, after knocking at his bedroom door.

"Whatever, you're probably going to come in anyway." He shouted from the inside, I rolled my eyes and entered the room, where he laid on a chair with his feet on top of the desk while listening to really loud rock music. I stood there looking at him, waiting for him to stop the music and face me to no avail. "Admiring the view? That's what you came in for?" He looked at me sideways, grinning, but not moving any further.

"Okay, that's it." I had been putting up with him and his mood swings for a while, always trying to be patient and nice to him – most of the time at least – but I was fed up. So, I went to the stereo and shut it off, pulled his legs out of the desk and turned the wheeled chair around to face me, resting my hands on the armrest, my angry eyes glaring daggers at his as he stood just a few inches away.

"Now, you and I are going to talk" I said, with an angry but surprisingly controlled voice, sounding quite commanding.

"Yes mum, what is it, you don't like the music?" He answered in a mocking tone. Getting closer.

"I don't have a problem with the music, it's you I have a problem with. I had enough of your attitude!" He pulled himself back in the chair, a bit taken aback with the way I was talking to him, but keeping his smug attitude.

Usually, when I get angry at him I just leave, so I don't usually talk to him like this, but today I wasn't going to let it go.

"And what are you going to do about it?" He simply replied.

"I've taken more of your shit than I would have from anyone, all because I'm sympathetic to your situation but mainly because of my mother." I could see his smug expression changing and darkening with anger, he didn't like where I was going. "You're going to stop acting like a brat and fucking behave."

"And who is gonna make me, you? Do you think because you learned a few swear words you'll intimidate me?" The smug, side smile creped his way back to his face, anger still flashing in his eyes. He didn't get really angry often, but when he did, it was pretty scary. Still, I wasn't gonna have it.

"I am not gonna let you treat my mother like you did today, you hear me? You have no right!" I exploded. My mom wasn't home so I didn't mind shouting. "We've done all we can for you, we've been here for you, we've taken you into our home and we have been very, very patient. And what do you do? You act like a brat! The mourning doesn't excuse you anymore and I'm starting to get very tired." He opened his mouth ready to say something, annoyed.

"So just leave me alone! I never asked you for anything, I don't need to be a part of your happy family. I'll be alright on my own" He shouted, getting up in a sudden move and towering over me, probably trying to scare me away with his sudden violent tone, but I stood my ground, I wasn't going anywhere.

"Maybe you haven't, but your mother did! That's all my mom is trying to do."

"It's too late now! She didn't help us when we needed her, now I don't need her or you, it's too late!" His eyes were getting red, anger and sadness intertwined, and tears started building.

He turned away from me fast, seeming to want to stop there or hide his vulnerable side from me, but he changed his mind and faced me in a quick movement as he continued:

"We were running away from my dad, you know? She called Diane in hopes she would help us but she didn't. And he found us, one time after the other… The more we run, the worse the punishment got. Where was her love and support then, eh?" He was fighting back tears with his face flushed in rage.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! But you have no idea what was it like here, you have no right to judge us and make us pay for something we could not have done, nor we had any idea of what was happening! How would my mother help you when she couldn't even help herself or her 12-year-old daughter? She barely got out of bed, do you really think she could have done much to help you?" A few tears fell down my cheeks now, angst filling my chest.

His situation pained me but he didn't know a thing, he just assumes we were always dandy and happy because that's what he sees now. I tried to speak more calmly

"Look, she has told me that she looked for you when she got better, even hired someone to find you but after a while, we couldn't afford it anymore - and you were nowhere to be found. She lost hope and now she feels terrible about it, she punishes herself all the time." I could feel the hesitation in his expression, his walls lowering as I explained "You know, since you've been here I hear her talking out loud asking your mother to forgive her, and promising she will do her best with you. And I know she cries every night because I can hear her through my wall…" I could feel tears burning in my eyes, itching to come out as I remembered my mother's cries.

There was a silent pause between us, electricity in the air as the feelings collided; tension, anger and above all a terrible sadness. I could see he was taken aback by my words because he never considered our side of the story.

"I… I didn't know…" He said, tears falling from his face also.

"You didn't bother asking." I raised my hand to his face slowly, it was shaking a bit from all the emotions we've lived during this discussion, and I whipped his tears with my thumb.

"Look, Chris, we all make mistakes but we can't let that define us, we can't live stuck in what-ifs… My mom is trying her best, but if you keep treating her this way and keep blaming her I know she will fall back into her depression." I placed my other hand on his face too while I looked pleadingly at him, hoping he will understand me. "Please, I can't lose my mother again, I won't be able to bear it this time." I waited but he was unable to answer, his beautiful eyes were filled with so much sorrow. "Give us a chance, let us help you... Let us be here for you." He finally nodded as he stopped holding back the tears and broke down crying.

So, I stepped closer as I moved my hands around his neck and I pulled him into a hug, I could see that he hesitated for a split second but then he wrapped his hands around my waist very tightly, as if I was going to get away at any moment.

"Shh… it's alright, cry all you need to." I gently caressed his hair as he buried his head in my shoulder and poured his heart out. A few tears escaped my eyes too, as it pained me to finally see up close how broken he was "It's gonna be okay, I'm here for you." I kept trying to console him but letting him cry all he needed to, I think this will do him some good. "You're not alone anymore, you have us now."

"You… You'll never leave me?" He asked, his voice hoarse from crying. I felt a sharp pain when I heard him, he sounded so weak and insecure, and with such a big need to have someone in his life to finally care for him, someone you know no one would take away from you.

"We are not going anywhere. Not without you." I whispered, afraid that if I talked too loudly he would have to be the one to console me instead.

He pulled away after a bit and gave me a sad, tired smile, but with a glint of hope in his eyes. After that, he cupped my face with both hands and planted a soft kiss on my forehead as he said "Thank you and, for what it's worth, I am sorry." As we put some space in between us - suddenly a bit shy as we realised how close we were – he added. "I would like to be alone for a bit now, please"

"Anytime. And I mean it." I turned away to leave.

"I'll apologize to Diane, I promise." He said just as I was in front of the door, stopping me on my tracks.

"You don't need to, she's not mad. Just please try to give her a chance, spend some time with her when you're ready… It will make her very happy." He nodded and I got out of the room, letting out a big breath.

Despite what I said, Chris did apologize to my mother that night, and they even sat down to talk for a bit on my dad's bench.

It wasn't for long, but it was a start.

And it made me really happy seeing them together.