24

Sasha Sloan - Too sad to cry

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Marcos didn't cry anymore, he knew better than doing that, neither did he try reaching out to her. All he just had to do, was not to think of her.

It was really simple. Just do things that did not remind him of a certain dark skinned female that haunted his dreams.

One, mostly being not sleeping.

Avoid sleep as much as possible, and if you find yourself weakening, sit in a bathtub filled with cold water until it went away.

Another one was returning back to your video game world where you were once King, and ruled as the best player that world had ever seen.

And lastly, never leave the room.

The room itself was intoxicating enough. She had left her marks everywhere. All the clothes he had were her doing. The jewellery. His hair.

He did not cut it, he couldn't bear the thought. All he did was return it back to his natural dull brown state that it had been before her.

Infact, Marcos looked like how he was before he met her currently.

A school avoider, hoodie and sweatpants wearer that spent all his time sitting in front of a computer, barely eating, not showered, and stealing snacks from the fridge when he was sure Mother and Abuela were no longer home.

It was a... Horrible life, considering when he had dreams and remembered how fairy-tale ish his life had been before now, but it gave him a feel of normalcy, somewhat.

And that was fine for him, until he woke up this morning and realized his computer wasn't where it was supposed to be.

At first he stared at it, a little lost before hurrying to the desk and touching it. Yes, it wasn't there but... But no one had entered his room. Ever since he shut himself out, no one did.

Abuela didn't because the stairs were a bit stressful for her and his Madre avoided situations when Marcos was sad and stayed away.

He had no idea how long he stared at the empty space, his thoughts blurring the longer he stood there before he walked out his room, rushing down the stairs. "Mom! Mom!"

His Abuela walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a worried look on her face. Of course, she was aware what it was that made her grandson come out of his room but she hadn't thought he looked this bad.

His light brown skin looked... A dirty brown shade now, his brown curly hair looking ruffled and he stunk. Even from the distance she was, she could tell.

Plus, there was a wild, unhinged look in his eyes as he faced her, his voice low. "Where is it?"

He watched the corners of his Abuela's eyes crinkle as she kept staring at him. The look on her face made him a bit terrified of what he looked like but it didn't matter. He was going to return to his room and stay there. As soon as he got his computer. "Treasure—"

"It's alright, Mama,"

His Mother, Maria, walked out from the store room from the other side of the house, her hands folded with her lips pressed in a thin line. "I took it, Marcos."

He stared at his Mother. Of course, she would be the one to take it. But he didn't understand why she would do something like that. How did this concern her? "Why?"

"Why?" She asked. It was obvious that she was angry with him, or perhaps, upset in a certain state. "Marcos, you haven't left your room for more than a week now. You haven't even been to school and you're... Ruining your eyes with that stupid—"

"It's not stupid, Mother."

He had not meant to interrupt her, but it was obvious from the disbelieving look on her face that she was completely shocked he did that. Marcos had never been the type to talk back at anyone, or even put himself in a situation that he would be told off to.

They both knew it. Marcos might be a teenager, but there were certain times he didn't seem... The age. And telling him off always brought him to that point and usually Alex was the one to talk him out of it.

He closed his eyes as the thought came to his head then opened them. His brown iris pooled as an overwhelming situation hit him. He could see her everywhere.

Standing at the house door.

Sitting at the table.

Making goofy faces behind his Mother whenever she was scolding him so he wouldn't cry about it.

"I need it," His voice was low again. Tired. Defeated. His head was hurting and he felt a sudden urge to throw up in the toilet. "Please, Mother, give it back."

Maria shook her head. "I will not. I gave it to you and I can take it back. You will not spend all your days locked up in that hole of yours."

"So that's a no?" Marcos held his head. It was hurting. He could feel himself slip. Just a little. Just a fragment. To have his lisp and return to his space. To his safe place. But he had to big. At least for now.

And he wasn't sure how to feel about the fact he could hear her tell him to breathe. That everything would be alright.

Fuck.

"You look like you're taking drugs!" His Mother suddenly snapped, startling him as he took a step back, his body cowering. "You look around you as if a shadow is about to creep and grab you! You don't even look like you're eating! I knew I shouldn't have left with you that bitch—"

Abuela looked at her, eyes narrowing. "Maria."

He closed his eyes now. Naturally, he was defensive over her. And calling her that— He wasn't thinking straight and he didn't want to say something he would regret. "It is alright if you won't give me the computer, but keep her out of it, Mother. Please,"

And as always, Maria never listened. "I wouldn't be surprised that she's the reason for doing this. That girl is nothing but bad luck, I told you! Her Mother was a drug addict and I'm sure she is, as well. Now, she cut you off and you're having withdrawal symptoms—"

What?

She was spouting the most ridiculous statement he had ever had. Adriana had never been a drug addict, and Alex never—

"You knew her," He stared at his Mother. His eyes searching hers for some sort of explanation. "You know she is not like that. You know Alex— Alex would never—. How can you say that?"

"Marcos," Her voice sounded calm now, understandings. Maria walked to him, her hand reaching out to his shoulder before touching his chin as she spoke, "I know you. I gave birth to you. What you were with her, it was not you. I knew girls like her. She has... Confused you. She made you think you loved her but—"

She made him—

Marcos slapped her hand away, startling her, but he didn't care as he moved backwards again, hitting his back on the stair railing. "I wasn't— Me with her? She confused me? Are you— Are you listening to yourself, Mother?"

"Marcos—"

"She made me— Mother, I love her! It's not about a thought! It's real!"

I still feel it and it kills me you'd think I don't.

"What do you know about love, Marcos?" Maria asked, her voice sad. "I love you, I do. You are— You are easy to deceive. To manipulate. You have a good heart but you— You don't know half of what you want."

W-What?

His eyes had widened in fear now as he listened to her. Why did she— Why did everyone—?

Weak. Stupid. Defenceless. Vulnerable.

His heart felt like it would explode with how it was taking in everything. He could hear Julian laughing at him. Andrea. They had been right. They saw him as the weakling he was and they took advantage—

"You're so much better than you think. Than even what I see you as, Eros. You're perfect. I wish you knew this."

He sat on the stairs now, his hand on his chest as tears began gathering in his eyes. This— This was ridiculous. He could still hear her voice. After everything...

"Why do you hate her, Mother?" He looked up at her now. "What did Alex ever do to you?"

The pitiful look Maria had before had changed into a shocked one at the question but rather than answering said, "You will go to your room, and shower. Then come back and have a talk—"

Marcos shook his head. "Now, Mama. Tell me."

Again, she was not listening. She already had her back turned at him as she began walking back to the store room."I will be going to the laundromat today—"

"Stop it!"

He was standing again, watching his Mother jerk at the way he screamed but he didn't stop there. "Talk to me! Tell me why for three years, you have been nothing but mean, and vindictive and cruel to a girl that has done nothing but love your son!"

"Because she is not good for you!"

Marcos stared at his Mother as she continued, "You are not into girls! You know that! I know that! I have known that since you were born! There is no reason for you to hide it from me anymore. I know that it is the reason why you kept her. I do not mind, Marcos."

The words to those sentences burst out of him like a floor. "I am not gay!"

Maria stared at her son with a warning look in her eyes. "Marcos."

"I don't like boys, Mama." For years, he had tried convincing her. For years... How did she always like to believe only what she thought was true? "I have been saying this for so long, Mother! I love Alex!"

"Love?! That girl is clearly using you for her devilish fantasies and you're too naive to see it!"

"Alex will never do anything that I don't ask for! She's not like that!"

"My son will not want to be fucked by a woman, Marcos!"

He felt his heart stop beating at the words, the air in the room vanishing. How had she—? No. Alex was always too careful in his house. No matter what happened. She always—

He stared at his Mother's face. There was shame in his eyes. Disappointment. A look he always feared to see on her. A look he always tried his best to avoid.

He could feel the broken pieces of his heart piercing around his chest, leaving as much holes as it could.

"Oh Marcos," Maria walked to him, her face pitiful again. "I know, honey. I know it wasn't you. It was her—"

"It wasn't her, Mama."

"There's no need to defend—"

Marcos kept shaking his head. The tears he had been trying his best to keep began to fall now. "Alex never wanted to do that with me in the beginning. I was the one who asked. I begged her, Mother. I cried to get her to that to me, and everyday after, I loved it, I wanted it."

It was clear from his Mother's face that she could not believe him. That she would rather blame Alex than him.

So he kept talking. "Do you think all gays just do it for the sex? They are attracted to men, Mama. They have to actually like that gender, and I don't. I like girls. I like boobs."

Maria shook her head, her denial shaking. "You wrote a letter to Ace. I saw that too."

"I was questioning my sexuality," He felt like stomping his feet and shrieking at the top of his voice. He felt like yelling and trying to get her to understand. "I'm a teenager, Mama. It happens. I liked being fucked in the ass but I didn't like boys. Do you know how stupid it sounds when someone says it? Do you have any idea how scary it feels when you realize you really, really like that thought but you can never tell anyone because they will look down on you? I couldn't even tell you because I knew you'd never understand. You see everything as black and white. If I like anal sex, I have to be gay. If I like pink, I have to be gay. It's easier for you to just rationalize it than actually try understanding it."

"Understanding?" Maria asked. Her voice sounded scratchy. Hoarse. "You think I am not an understanding Mother? I openly allow you to be yourself. To dress how you want. To use makeup. To keep those— Those stupid cloths! I have been very understanding, Marcos!"

"But you never ask how I am. Do you even remember doing that?" Marcos asked. His eyes were red now. His nose too as he sniffed. "Because of Papa, you spend all your time trying to pay the debts and you never ask about me anymore. I know you do your best when you check on me but you never actually ask. Alex always did. Whenever I got scared and you weren't there, I had her. She was always there more than you had ever been."

His Abuela spoke again now. "Marcos."

"I did it for you," Maria's eyes were glassy now but she didn't look sad. She looked angry. Hurt. Pained. "Your Father died and left us penniless and everyday, I fight just so we can keep our house. So we can eat. So we can have a comfortable life. And what? You want me to babysit you? You want me to watch over you? You're eighteen, Marcos!"

"I know," He nodded, looking down now. His fists were clenched together as he tried to keep his voice even. "It's w-why it hurts so much b-because I knew I couldn't ask you to be with me a-anymore. That's why I asked Andrea for help."

Once again, he had managed to surprise her again. "What? W-What help? You—"

"I let him take me on a dates and hit me so he could give you your tips and Alex found out—" Marcos looked up now. He couldn't breathe well. The tears were clogging up his throat. "The girl that was there for me left me because I was trying to get you back. That is what I get for being greedy."

"He— He—" Maria stared at her son, her eyes moving through his body. "Why would you do something like that?"

Marcos could feel a slight tendril of hate wrap itself around his heart as he said, "You knew I was scared of him but never stopped inviting him. You kept thinking he'd be the one to bring me to my senses. You could have asked, but as always, you tried to ignore it because you don't want to try understanding. You never—"

He paused now, taking in a large breath of air before brushing the tears falling from his cheeks, shaking his head. "It doesn't change anything. You have everything fixed. And I'm happy for you. That's all that matters."

Marcos turned around and ran back up the stairs, entering his room and slamming the door close before getting into the bed and slipping under the comforter.

"It hots, Mommy," He whimpered, curling his body more now. "It hots. Me t-tiwad. P-Pwease make stop."

Breathe for me, Princess.

He shook his head. "Nu here. You nu here."

I'd always be with you, Eros. Always.

He felt a hand rest on his body through the thick cloth over his body and he tensed before the hand began to stroke him through it silently.

Though they didn't speak, he could already sense who it was, and though it took a while, he began to relax, counting alongside with her strokes before he heard her ask softly, "Pray with me?"

Marcos didn't say anything for a while, staying underneath before poking his head out, his comforter still over his neck. "I— I don't remember how to,"

Abuela gave him a warm smile. His room remained dark but there was an oil lamp in her left hand as she said, "Just close your eyes and listen to my voice, love. Will you?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, his Abuela's soft voice now floating through his room. "Dear Virgin Mary, thank you for keeping my grandson safe all this while. He has done... Certain things that put him in danger but I am truly grateful that he is alive. That he is well. And that he remains the most beautiful boy I ever set my eyes on. I come to ask one thing. For his sake. I want him to realize he's not alone. That no matter what happens, he has people around him who love him. Who would do anything to see him become the wonderful man you brought him here to be. Amen."

Then she blew out the light on the lamp and set it beside his bed before patting her thighs. "Come,"

He obeyed, crawling to her then put his head on her thigh, staring at the door as she heard him say softly, "How do you feel?"

"Calmer,"

Hearing her say that people cared for him reminded him of Ace, and her too, and his Mother, he hoped. And he knew that though she had... Left him, she would always be with him. Some parts of him anyway.

"I'm glad."

Marcos could feel her stroke his hair, untangling any knots she could find as he said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"That I— I shouted at Mom and did that thing with the man."

"The first part was a long time coming, and the second... That was too much, treasure."

"I know. I just... I just wanted everything to be over. I just wanted to be... Necessary too. I don't know anymore."

Thinking it made him remember the hurt look in her eyes.

You matter to me, Eros. You matter. How many times do I have to prove to you that you do?

"Your Mother has no one, Marcos. You are all she lives for. Ace has no other friend that can stand him like you do. You are my grandson. The last male of the Gomez line. You are our pride and joy. You never had to do anything to prove your worth."

"I know, Abuela. I f— Messed up. I know."

"But I know she was hurt more than angry." Though Abuela didn't specify, he could tell what she was talking about. "She loved you too much, darling. Whatever she did, she did it with you in her heart. What do you think she'd say if she saw you like this?"

Marcos closed his eyes for a second and the next time he opened them, his voice came out in a whisper. "She'd be very disappointed."

"Why?"

"Because she wanted me to be— Be better," He didn't want to cry again but it was hard not to. "Grow."

"And are you doing that?"

A part of him destroyed at the fact he was disappointing her, even though she wasn't there and the other didn't want to cry. The other side won. "I don't have to. She's not my girlfriend anymore."

"Marcos. Alex didn't tell you those words as a girlfriend. She told you as a person that loves you very much and wants only the best for you. Did it ever cross your mind that if you became a better person, and she saw that you were, that she would take you back?"

His heart pulsed at the words, causing him to curl more under the blanket. No, he wouldn't think of it. Too much false hope... But still, "N-No,"

"She can't take you back like this and I like her as a family member."

"But what if she moves on? What if she just... I wasn't good enough?"

"Did she ever say this?"

"No but—"

"The more you think it, the more you see only had things, but think of all the good times you both shared. Never for once did she not love you and you know this."

Marcos said nothing now, both of them sitting silently before he looked up at his Abuela. She was older now. Wrinklier. He had never really paid attention to her because she had always seemed like a force that would never go away. That was always there and would always be there.

But she was growing older. And it was bittersweet to think of. "How do you know what to say?"

"Because I have spent many years wishing for many chances for something that would never happen,"

Carlos.

He tried smiling at her even though he was at the verge of crying again. "I hope one day you forgive yourself, Abuela."

This time, she answered in English. "And I hope you forgive yourself, as well, tesoro."

~

I love you guys, (but don't tell my other readers)

And I haven't said this before but TNTJTG has gotten so many reads! Okay, maybe I have said this but I am feeling emotional right now!

Thank you for reading my book even though I'm sure I'm writing complete trash all the time. I love every single one of you. Those that vote. Those that don't. Thank you so very muchhhhhh.

I was thinking of making an AU (alternate universe) with this characters. Something to get my vibe back. If you have any ideas, comment or inbox me.

Again, I love you. Thank you!