Honey and Spice | ✔️

Chapter 16

Tw: child abuse and attempted suicide

Ryder

No, I didn’t ask to be born. I didn’t ask to live. But of course, shit happens and we can’t control them.

I don’t remember much about my childhood, but I was told that my mom died soon after I was born. Placental abruption or something. I wasn't even suppose to live. But instead, it got my mom. So, naturally, my dad was in charge of taking care of me.

Well, did he do a good job? No.

My dad was an alcoholic (he's rarely ever home) and those nights when he did come home, the first thing he’ll do is yell at me for a drink. And of course, being a helpless child, all I could do was obey. When he didn’t get it quick enough, he’d hit me. If things didn’t go his way, he’d hit me. If he’s drunk off his ass and got nothing better to do, he’d hit me. Simple as that. He took out his grief and pain over losing his wife on me. He blamed my mother’s death on my birth (which, technically, is true) and he would beat the shit out of me because of that.

I could only do what he said. I tried not to show my pain in front of him, then at night, I would cry alone in my room, counting the bruises on my body until I fell asleep. I was helpless.

He also called me so many names that at one point I seriously thought my name was ‘Worthless Piece Of Shit’ and ‘Pathetic Crybaby’.

Then, one day I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn't get the point of living when all I did was get beaten up every day. So, one afternoon, I decided to do it. My bedroom was on the second floor, so that was about 20 feet between me and the ground. It wasn’t that high but my childish brain thought it was enough. I used a stool to help me reach my window and when I did, I sat there for a while. I thought: I’m going to be with Mama now.

But as I stood on my windowsill looking down, I suddenly couldn’t do it. I was scared. As any normal nine-year-old would be. But I was scared for a different reason. What if this doesn't work? What if this makes no difference and I would still be living with my dad? What if I still continue living?

And then I heard a scream. I looked up with tears in my eyes and saw a middle-aged woman calling me from across my bedroom window. She was yelling at me to stop. The next part was a blur, but I could only remember the door bursting open and she was there with her arms around me. I didn’t know who she was then, but I told her everything, my tears garbling my words. She hugged me and soothed me like how a mother would to her child.

My dad came home a while after the woman did, and he yelled at her for breaking his door. Then she told him what I was about to do and how he should be a proper father and he said something like, “I don’t give a fuck about him, Camille.” To which the woman replied, “Fuck you, Richard.” Then she took me to my room and told me to pack my things.

She brought me to her house which is in another town and introduced herself as my dad’s older sister, Aunt Cam. Living with her was her wife, Marlene or Aunt Mars, and my grandmother. Soon, I was officially adopted by them. I lived under the name Ryder Anthony Dela Cruz. I loved my new life. I loved my new family (though, technically, they are my family).

School was a new start for me, a new life. After much consideration, Aunt Cam agreed to let me go to a real school. I wanted to let go of my past and show that I’m a new person (I somehow ended up being the local bad boy but oh, well).

But some nights I still wake up in cold sweat, the stinging feeling on my cheek where my dad slapped me still felt fresh. I still wake up to nightmares about my past life. My dad still lived in my head; ridiculing me, demoralising me, killing me inside. No matter how hard I tried to block him out, to show that he no longer has any effect on me, he still remained.

Nick, along with my family, also helped me get through it. He told me that I’m in control of my life and not my dad. He told me that it’s okay to cry and let it all out - maybe break a few things too. Even though I followed his advice, I still couldn’t completely fight my dad off. Even up to now, he’s always haunting me. I try to push him away but he’s still there.

I try to not let him get to me. I’m slowly getting better at that, but sometimes when it gets too much, I just lose my shit. Sometimes it doesn’t necessarily have to be about my dad. Sometimes something as simple as being under pressure can literally break me.

*

I’ve stopped talking now, my throat feeling dry. I’ve never told anyone about my life down to every last detail, except for Derek. I’ve only told Nick and Sin the gist of it.

Sometimes I would see my dad in people, like what happened just now with Nathan. For a split second when Nathan stood with his hand raised over me, I saw the water-stained walls, the bottles lying around in the living room, my dad towering above me with a glass bottle in his hand, and I felt the familiar fear rising in my stomach, the familiar crash of the bottle on my head, the warm blood that trickled down. . .and it overwhelmed me so much that I just snapped.

Neither of us are speaking. I feel lighter now, like a shit-ton of weight lifted off me. Nathan’s still taking in the huge amount of information that I just gave him. I sigh. I should’ve just told him the condensed version. I shouldn’t have unloaded everything on him. But something in him makes me trust him, and once I start talking, I cannot stop.

I look at him. He’s looking at me with those sad grey eyes and his lips are slightly parted. Then, he leans over and hugs me - though he’s a little stiff and awkward about it. I freeze, taken aback.

“I’m so sorry, Ryder,” he says. “I didn’t know. . .”

Something breaks in me again and I cry into his shoulder. I wrap my arms around him and pull him close to me. Nathan relaxes under my touch and he starts crying too, whispering “I’m here”s and “It’s okay”s. Then, I continue crying into his neck and tighten my arms around him, not wanting to let go.

*

We pull apart after a long while, teary-eyed and sniffling.

“Thank you,” I say, my lips quivering.

Nathan smiles shyly and reaches under his glasses to wipe his eyes. “Um. . .you’re welcome.”

“I think the cake’s gonna go stale soon.” I manage a weak joke and Nathan giggles.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

I smirk. “It is, if it’s left out to sit for a long time.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that.” He smiles and picks up his fork. I pick up my fork too and we continue eating the cake.

And all this while, our pinkies are linked.

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Haha hello folks we meet again.
I haven't been adding little notes after each chapter for a while so here's something I guess.

Uhm just a little spoiler (?) for next chapter: A new character is coming to the picture but they are not gonna interfere with Ryder/Nathan's thing in a bad way (don't worry)
I hope yall like them when I bring them in next Thursday :D

Stay safe yalls, I love yall :)✨❤️