The Book Boy's Revenge 1

Warner Williams

Warning

This chapter contains mentions of Sexual assault and mature words.

“That these people still believes you and,” A pause “I am the bad guy.” Jeremy bit his inner lip, shook his head and turned to Owen.

“I told you. I didn’t want Song to apologize.” He thundered and sighed. Warner noticed Song’s eyes forming tears and his chest heaving, unease to oblivious Warner.

“Song, we can leave.” He whispered as Song wiped his tears, shaking his head.

“I always keep leaving, myself too. I don’t want to leave today.” He sniffled, his lips twitching and Warner wanted to find out what was in Song’s heart, buried deeply, leaving him so much broken.

He clasped his hands on Walter’s shoulder, Walter stood quiet and Song asked.

“Walter, can you wait for us in the play-room next-door?” Owen’s gaze met Warner’s gesturing what was happening to Song which he didn’t either know yet. Walter nodded and ran to the exit.

“Why shouldn’t he apologize, Jeremy? I am not getting your tricky mind secrets.” Owen yelled, frustrated he waited for Jeremy’s answer.

“One says ‘he deserved it’ and other doesn’t want an apology! Tell me what the hell is wrong!” Owen thundered,

“June 18th, it was your 35th birthday.” Song spoke, eyes on the ground.

Warner’s heart raced faster, space he should give him space, he thought and slowly got up to feel a hand’ wrap around his wrist, he sat back on the seat.

Warner saw Owen’s eyes on Song, a familiarity he might’ve felt about that day.

“I am sorry.” Jeremy sighed,

“4 years after you left mom and I, but you took me out for the responsibility obligated to you, or just when you wanted to get drunk again and get a place to sleep and for- for that you took me with you because I was a child, I was 14 and your friends let me stay there with you.” He inhaled deeply, biting his bottom lip.

“That day was no different from all those days, I wanted to hang out with you and not at your friends house.”

Tears escaping his eyes and Warner squeezed his eyes,

“We were at uncle Jeremy’s house, aunt Kristen had prepared us cake and you told me to go play with Gabriella.” Owen nodded, like he recalled that all, eyes fixated and still.

“I gifted you a hand-made card, wore your favorite shirt you bought me, tartan shirt and it was red and black,

Gabriella told me you got drunk and her mother slept early because of you, she pushed me out of her room and yelled about how raged she was, it was midnight and she wanted to hear his dad sing her good-night songs and he was busy with you and I was raged at her talking bad about you and she said if I care so much then I should take you home myself and I did, I sprinted downstairs into the big room you were,” A pause as Jeremy’s face turned pale.

“You were indeed drunk, with the food on the table and it was raining, I took you by your hand and you scoffed mumbling- mumbling some drunk words to leave you alone and- and about I don’t know! I reached for uncle Jeremy to help me out and he was also drunk, not as much as you but- but he was.” He swallowed and inhaled deeply again, a sense of urgency mixed with frustration, sadness.

“I said; ‘Uncle Jeremy, I want to take my dad home, please help me take him out.’ He agreed and took you by your one arm and when we reached the living room, he adjusted you on the couch and told me ‘Oh no Song, it’s raining and I left the umbrella in the room, lets get it from there.’