Callus

                             Callus

                             ---------

                   Callus (cal-us)- a thickened and hardened part of the skin or a soft tissue







                   Shanice O'Brien













         sexual abuse fiction- internet relationships, fiction - teenagers, fiction- high school, fiction- alcoholism, fiction



























































































         

                   thank you to my endless

supply of friends around

the world for your endless

support. much love.











































































































































Callus.































































































































; Kisses

Kisses on his

shoulder







squared

sturdy







pale from

a lack of

sun and

warmth







the only

source of

heat received

from the base

of his laptop







a 14th birthday

present

three years go

his favorite

number







a dinosaur

macbooks

windows 8

what's the

point







most 18 year

olds would love

a car

a girlfriend

parties







not Charlie







he's fine

with his laptop







late nights

spent talking

to friends

halfway across

the world







denmark

missouri

venezuela







three







one

two

three







people he

knows he'll

never meet

even if given

the chance, yet

he communicates

with them on

a daily basis







his best friend







all of them







he lives

in new york city







he thrives

on the hustle

and bustle

of everyday life







everyone's jealous

but

he wants to live

someplace else

anywhere else

it's too small

for  the amount

of people who

are staying here







his community

was always

tight knit







elite

preschool

elite

grade school

elite

college







only the

best for

the son of

Charles Bellerose sr







that is

until

Charles Bellerose sr

lost all his

money and the

family was forced

into downtown Brooklyn

in an apartment







charlie didn't even

know apartments

existed







anxiety

anxiety

anxiety







social

anxiety

hinders him

from befriending

anyone







no one wants

to talk to a snobby

ex-Manhattan boy with

a drunken father and

a runaway mother







he eats

lunch alone

he walks to school

alone







dad stops asking

how his day was

long ago so

it's often that

Charlie comes home

to silence

which is good

because he doesn't

have to lie and say

that he has made friends

or has been to a social

gathering

he's a shitty

liar







he finds

himself

going online

into a community

that accepts him

despite his

one hundred and

one flaws







money

awkwardness

shyness

too much to list







alas







there's one

more special

than the rest







sometimes

his hair is

purple

blue

red







his skin

pierced in

places charlie

wouldn't dare







hips

collarbones

tongue







it's all

so punk rock







a canadian

boy in his senior

year







hugo







hugo reed













he screams

with his words







his poetry

art on paper







he's so

attached

they're so

attached

they are

one







most nights

are spent with

hugo







secrets

thoughts

desires

all out in

the open for

the boy to poke

and prod at, but

he never does,

which is good

because kindness

is what truly

drives charlie

because his life

seems to lack

it.







to be

held

to be

loved







that's all

he wants







fuck sex

fuck drugs







fuck all

of that







what he wants

is to log in

and talk to this

boy







this boy who

holds his heart

and keeps it

beating







a stranger to

the sun







a nocturnal

bat, only awake

at night







antisocial







he looses

touch with

reality







forgets how to

communicate







most of his

interactions

through a screen







kisses on his

neck







easily the most

sensitive patch

of skin







already covered in

love bites but he

refuses to cover them

up because no one

seems to care or show

the slightest bit

of interest as to

who's leaving them







kisses on  his

lips







stained with

liquor







he hated

the taste

the smell alone

turned his

stomach







burning

dryness







kisses on his

arms







biceps

triceps







too tired to

come to his own

defense







weakening with

every push







his

"no"

a slurred

"yes"







kisses on his

stomach







no







he's not here







he's elsewhere







anywhere







holding her

kissing her







she doesn't need

to fill his blood

with liquor to get

what she wants







doesn't have to

never did







no







he doesn't love

her







not in the

slightest







the thought

of loneliness

terrifies him







he sees what

human isolation

does to people







his father







turning his back







on charlie to open

the liquor cabinet

after mother's

grand departure







drowning his

sorrows in

grey goose and

absolut







washed

up







rambling







while charlie

watched him

fall apart

before his

very eyes







nothing remained

the same







he dreaded

the sound of

the muffler

in the driveway







family sundays

turned into hell

holidays, even worse

weekends, unbearable







so many needy

hands reaching for

Charlie







under his

chinos







moving too

fast







don't touch

don't touch

please, don't

touch







kisses on his

thigh







the innermost

part of him







sensitive

he's so

sensitive







pure at

heart







a white smudge

on charcoal







release is

coming







a mewl of

approval







he can't

stop it







he doesn't want

to show her that

she can do this

to him but he can't

help it







it's building

up







eyes closed







he's not here

he's not here







one

two

three







he's

flying















































































; -- Retrospective

Eyes open

wide

stomach

growling

hunger

pains







darkness

turned to

light in a

matter of

seconds with

the blink of

bambi-like

hues







he's up







wrapped in

a sheet that's

stained in his

own seed







disgusting

he tosses it

off with a kick

of his feet







flickers the

light







on

off

on







obsessive

compulsive

getting the

better of him







three times

one

two

three







dirty

dirty

dirty







memories

from the

previous night

flood into his

mind







bed creaking

back scratching







he doesn't want

to see it







doesn't want to

think about it







bad

bad

bad







you're

bad, charlie







she took something

he'll never get

back

her trophy







his shirt's

torn

the buttons

are ripped







it's his

favorite,

green and

white plaid







he can't

find his

jeans







how

embarrassing







he doesn't

look at

her







can't look

at her

what she

did is something

he would see

on tv







it's his fault

anyway







too drunk

to say no

but his body

giving the yes







he can't

think about

this







won't think

about this







won't be

a prisoner







to his

memories

nope







he leaves

with his torn

shirt and silk

boxers







eggshells

he's walking

on eggshells







dirty

you're dirty,

charlie







innocence

lost







a needle

in a

haystack







angel has

died







he's

naked







stripped to the

core of his

very being







a room of

sleeping people,

bodies entangled

in one another







some cling onto

one another for

dear life







some aren't even

facing the same way







how was he laying

when he was

in bed with her?

was he cuddled

to her side like a

lover? was he on the

complete opposite

side, trying to get

away, even in his

sleep?







tiptoe







left

right

left







into the

hallway







dimly lit

the building

can't ever seem

to afford proper

lighting







it's dark

still dark

the sun has

not risen







down the hallway

barely lit

so dim







walking past

three doors







one

two

three







sneeze







quiet

be quiet,

Charlie







the boy was

never too good

at silence, letting

out whimpers and

groans as their

hands worked their

way under his

pants

feeling him

caressing him

in ways no

child should ever

be touched

even by a parent







he hadn't

fully developed

when he grew

accustomed to

the feeling of

another touching

him







dirty







he felt

dirty







always







dirty













three

two

one







quiet

doors







still

doors







he always

imagined what

transpired behind

them







309

a mother nursing

her newborn in

the bathroom,

avoiding her

drunken husband







312

an elderly man

helping his wife

out of bed

she looks the

same as she did

as she was seventeen







315

a small child

trembling in the

corner,  terrified

of the echoes

don't hit her

please, don't hit

her

stop yelling

and hold her







repetition

is key







317







his apartment

isn't a multiple

of three and

that bothers him

more than he'd like

to admit







making his







skin

crawl







hands

shake







nails drag

up his

arm







ouch







key in







lock

undone







step

step







a wrapper

in his path

his left foot

lowers onto

it







his hand flying

to his mouth







shh







open the door

with more finesse







dad's passed out

on the couch







a beer







in his hand

his jeans

undone







what a

mess







a tug of

the hands







the toss of

a sweater







charlie







it's charlie's job

to care for

the man

the parent/child

role reversed







he reeks

of booze







matter of

fact







they both

do







go to bed,

dad







finally

time to

himself







lying in

his own bed







twin sized







outgrown

from the growth

spurt of 8th

grade but

he's too anxious

to bring it

up







eyes closing







he begins to drift

far

far

away

goodnight,

charlie.