Abuse

The unhooked clasp on his helmet showed that he wore it just to make his mom happy. It said that he wore it for that reason only, that he would wear it, but he won’t be happy about it. Because deep down he didn’t see the point. He didn’t care, it was as simple as that. Maybe he thought there was no way he would die, not today, not him. He could fall, yeah, he knew that, but then again he couldn’t. He rarely got away with not wearing the helmet though. She would watch him leave, stand in the window and set her wide eyes on him, waving as if she thought this was the last time she would ever see him.
         Every time, every time he stepped a foot out the door.
         And he would smile and wave too, just to show her that he’ll be back. Reassure her that he was fine and he would come home and see her again.
         And when he rode out of her sight, he kept the helmet on, because he might as well just keep it on his head so he didn’t have to hold it. Sure he could set it somewhere and come back and get it, but that was just another thing he didn’t care about. Why go through all that trouble?
         It was almost dark; he has been gone for a while. She’ll be wondering where he went, but she won’t be able to get a hold of him because he didn’t bring his phone.
         It was cold, the wind threatening to chill him to the bone, but it was reflective to his already icy exterior.  It was quiet, but the thoughts in his head diminished any silence he could have heard.
         It was abandoned, the streets, a few cars passing here and there, leaves skidding across the road, being pushed by the wind so easily. No people, though, and that was why he liked it here.
         He didn’t need them. He didn’t need their words, their jeers. He didn’t need anyone and he wished people would see that. He wished they would just leave him alone.
         Why was that so hard to ask? Why, god, must he put up with this?
         He didn’t need the black and the blue that covered his skin.
         He didn’t need their words that made him feel so damn worthless, so lost and alone.
         He didn’t need the abuse.
         He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when he opened them again he found himself riding away from the sidewalk and into the street. The sun was past dying now, gone so that the air was as black as his shirt. It’s thin fabric did little to protect him from the wind, the wind that pushed him around just like the leaves.
         But he wasn’t done fighting yet.
         He rode fast, pumping his legs as if he thought the devil was at his heels. He rode fast because when he did, he felt like he was leaving everything and everyone behind him. Sitting in the dust, the ones left alone this time. He left them and their words because he was so much faster.
         He was going places.
         But it wasn’t anywhere here. Anywhere they would know because they were too perfect to see, to understand.
         The goosebumps sprouted on his arms, up against the bruises that had a permanent fix there.  Neither of them he noticed though, because he was used to it, the pain, the cold. It was always there and he welcomed it better than anything else. Anybody else.
         He was out later than usual.
         He was thinking things that usually confused him. Things that would normally scare him, but this time, it all made perfect sense. It was all clear.
         He saw the headlights first, and he started to ride faster.
         The devil was there, coming up closer, but he wasn’t done racing yet.
         The road was lain out in front of him, the darkness sticking to his skin and melting him away in the background. He was heading straight towards it, the light.
         Not slowing down, he was flying towards the end of the tunnel that was getting closer and closer and closer…
         He skidded to a stop at the very last second, when he was bathed in the light that brought him unexpected warmth.  His body jolted slightly forward, his mouth curved in a slight smile when he met the eyes of the person behind the light.
         He closed them, breathed in deeply and waited.
         And that’s when the Devil caught up.
         The pain was abrupt, sudden, enveloping him like the darkness that never left. He felt himself being thrown backwards and falling.
         Falling so far.
         He hit the ground, the street and he lay there, watching himself. Watching his hand that was still held slightly up, watching his abused body lay even more damaged than it was before. Seeing his bike, twisted and broken lying not too far away from him. Seeing the wheels of the Devil’s car.
         It was there, ready to take him, steal him away from the light that still basked him in an unnatural glow.
         And then there was his helmet, throw away from his head, where it was supposed to be because he never clasped it shut.
         It could have protected him, kept the blood in his head, kept the thoughts from spilling over. But he didn’t care. Not anymore.
         He was done with this.
         Thing have never been clearer.
         He closed his eyes, waited for the silence to finally take him, but the only thing he could think about was how he never waved back to his mother.