It All Started

Joe walked down the hallway with a barely perceptible limp, eyes downcast with dark circles under them. Hidden beneath his shirt were dark purple bruises, a few, a pale sick looking green, and others only a faint trace. Another bruise ran from his hip to thigh.

Joe ducked into the bathroom and quickly checked all the stalls to make sure that he was alone. Joe lifted up the hem of his shirt and examined the freshly marred skin. He gently prodded one and winced at the sharp pain that radiated from the light touch.

Joe looked into the mirror, his hand gripping the sink tightly as the other one held up his shirt. It had gotten worse since Alec had died. The foster couple who "cared" for him blamed him for Alec's death. With Alec gone, they were down five hundred dollars a month from the government, and the creep was sure to take it out of Joe's hide. It usually was not a bad beating, but on the day of the month when the checks came, Eddie would get all liquored up and come looking for Joe. That was when it was really bad.

Joe was to far lost in his own thoughts to be aware of someone coming into the bathroom, until he heard someone swear under their breath.

Joe's head snapped up, quickly pulling his shirt down. He glared at the student, recognizing a face, but not able to come up with a name.

"Man, what happened?" Tim asked.

"Nothing," Joe lied.

"Doesn't look like nothing," Tim said with raised eyebrows.

Joe narrowed his eyes, "I said it's nothing, and none of your business even if it was anything," he said.

Tim eyed Joe, "you want someone to talk to?" he asked.

Joe snorted, "how could you help."

"I'm not saying I can help, I'm saying I can listen," Tim said.

"Don't you have class to be in or something?" Joe asked a little belligerently.

"None that can't be put off for a while," Tim said as he leaned against the sink next to Joe.

Joe hesitated for a moment, but the need to unburden himself was to strong, "it all started when my brother died," Joe began.