Tyler has gone back to his house after dinner. I wonder why is he sleeping over so frequently. Does he like him? Is there anything happening between these two, visible to those who has sight, but impossible to feel through shifts in the air?

Usually there are couples that have this thick tension palpable in the air. With them I cannot seem to feel that, however.
Is Leo attracted to men? Did he have any relationships before? We've never really talked about that; before that cursed accident of my family it seems we were too young to be interested in these kind of stuff, and after that accident...

"Jin?" I jerk my head up, not that it's going to matter. Not that I'll suddenly be able to see. "Have you thought of my offer? Seeing a therapist? I really do believe it might help you, Ang now that Rosie isn't here... what do you think?" I'm greeting my teeth, how could I ever ask Mikey to spend that much of amount of money on me, not even his son? how could I ever agree for Mikey to have me going to therapy, when Leo, his biological son, is suffering too, and is suffering more than I do?

Mikey's hand is on my knee, now. "Please think about it, Jin. This year, everything happened the worst way it could happen, so many bad things at once... please, let me help you," his voice lurking with plea, his eyes might be vainly searching for my eyes, the ones that won't ever be able to hold another person's eyes in search for truth or lie no more.

Later, much later, as the moon is in half the sky and the hour was two in the morning (I know that because of the phone), Leo has entered my room.
He has sat on the floor, close to my head. "I heard what Mikey has asked you, about therapy," he says, in his voice I recognize sadness; his eyes must be pinned to the wall to his front.  "Take that, Jinny. You need it, after all you've been through... please do not repress it,"
I know he would be happy to have that too, therapy. Or to have at least something. To talk to people who would understand, Who would listen. To make these hideous monsters to amend for their acts.

I nod, my hands are looking for his head; pulling his hairs gently. "How could I ever agree to that?" I ask, my voice is choked. "Mikey has to offer you the same thing, he has to take care of you before he takes care of me." Voicing my thoughts feels weird suddenly; as if on one hand im not supposed to feel this way, and on the other hand it sounds so right in my head...

Leo turns his head, his eyes seeing the mature version of me, while I still see him as the fifteen-years-old boy he was, full of happiness that cannot be erased.
"But Mikey doesn't know about this, Jin. He doesn't know and that's how it shall be." Fright in his voice, has he, for a moment, thought that I'll tell, or already told, his secrets to his father? Why would I do that?
"I haven't told him anything, Leo. Don't look at me like that." I say, a smile is playing on my lips. I wish I could see his surprised expression.

"How- how do you know-!"

I laugh, messing up his hair. "Ah, this is a secret only the blind know."
He laughs, and before my eyes there is this picture of fifteen-years-old, dying-of-laughter Leo floating in front of me. My heart hurts. I miss these times.

Silence has fallen between us, and I don't know what to say. Bits of silence like that were never in our conversations; so much has changed... "grandma knows," Leo says suddenly. "I told her this year, that time I run away. I were with her the whole day? And all she has thought about was Lily, and where was Lily and what's happening with Lily and why she hasn't shown up, and I didn't really need anyone to listen, I just needed to tell this to someone, anyone. And I said, Nana, a year ago there were men who touched me, they violated me and took me stuff that were taken before'." His breath is shaking. My hand is still on his head, and that's when I notice that - he changed his haircut.

I furrow my brows, "what do you mean by has been taken before? Leo, what the hack has happened to you?!" I didn't mean to interrupt him, however I couldn't refrain myself from asking. Rage is building up inside my body. He chuckles, "don't worry about me, Jinny. Everything is okay now." His voice is as low as a whisper. A whisper full of pain and his eyes must be swarmed with secrets.

"I have cried rivers when I was there, we sat outside. I know the nurses saw us. I could hear them laugh, talking about the boy that cried on his Nana's lap." He grits his teeth. My hand is on his shoulder, trying to unnerve his tensed up muscles like. "They called me a cry baby, cry baby, but I don't fucking care," he's crying now, the memories must be flooding him. He puts his head to rest backwards, looking at the blank ceiling, on contraire to the ceiling in his room, filled with the glow-in-the-dark stars stickers that were put there long years ago.

He chuckles, a lunatic one, unnerving, unnatural one. He laughs. I look at him, confused as hell. "A cry baby, cry baby," he sings. "How I laugh through my tears."

If I could see him, I would have probably be crying too. What have these men done to him?

—-

"They call me cry baby, cry baby
But I don't fucking care
Cry baby, cry baby
How I laugh through my tears"
(Cry baby, Melanie Martinez)

שנה לאחר מכן, אבל סיימתי את התרגום של החלק השני😂

מקווה שכולכם בסדר, בריאים, ומחוץ לאסונות שקרו בדרום❤️