W.A.R. 5-10 Dustin's Revenge

W.A.R. Part Five - Retaliation

(2nd edition)

Chapter Ten - Dustin's Revenge

by Jeff Wilson

CONTENT WARNING! This chapter contains events and discussion involving an attempted suicide which may be disturbing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

"Oh my god, he's dead," I thought to myself. Dustin's naked body lay there motionless on the ground in a dark pool of black gore.

"Someone murdered him," I thought. "His dad fucking killed him." The beer cans were definitely the brand his dad liked to drink. "He fucking finished the job. He raped the poor kid and murdered him, and left him for dead for somebody like me to find."

I sat down on the stump in a state of shcok. I couldn't believe this was happening. I'd never seen a dead body before. Dustin's forearms were all cut up and mangled. Blood was still pulsing from each of his wrists. And that's when I came out of shock and realized that dead bodies don't bleed the way Dustin was bleeding. He was still alive.

"Oh fuck, he's not dead!" I shouted. "Fuck!"

Without even thinking I took off my coat and shirt. My friend wasn't going to die if I could help it. I ripped my shirt in half like it was made of paper. I quickly tied each half around Dustin's wrists to stop the bleeding. I lifted him up off the ground and slung him over my shoulder. He was still breathing, at least. I put my coat over him to give him some cover and I started to carry him toward my house. But then I realized that no one was home, so I turned toward Brett's house. Dustin puked violently all over my back. At that moment I didn't care, I was just happy that he had just shown some sign of life.

By the time I got to Brett's house I was so full of adrenaline that I kicked the back door open rather than knock. "Brett!! Help me!!!" I cried. "God help me please!!!!" Brett came flying down the stairs pulling up his boxers. I carried Dustin into the living room and laid him on the floor.

"What the fuck happened?" Brett yelled.

"I don't know!" I cried. "I found him up in the woods."

Brett ran to the phone. "Shit!" he shouted. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

I just stood there stupidly while Brett stared at the ghastly sight of Dustin's naked, bleeding carcass on the floor. "Fucking answer, bitch!"

"Who are you calling?" I asked.

"My mom," Brett replied.

"Don't call your fucking mother!" I shouted. "Call a fucking ambulance you fucking idiot!"

Brett slammed the phone down. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!!" Brett shouted. "I don't know what the fuck to do! Fuck!"

"Call 9-1-1!" I snapped. "Jesus, Brett! Don't panic!"

Brett picked the phone back up and dialed. I checked Dustin's pulse to make sure he was still alive. I didn't even realize he was laying there all spread eagle and naked on the floor. He was ghostly white and sickeningly skinny, like he'd never had a decent meal. His hair was matted and slick from sweat, puke, and blood. There was nothing at all glamorous about him.

"He's gonna die," I thought to myself.

"Yeah," Brett said. "My name's Brett Reilly, I'm at 55 Park Avenue in Donora near Palmer Park." He waited for a moment. "I need an ambulance... There's a guy bleeding and he's not moving... I don't know. It looks like he cut himself."

I gently pushed back Dustin's dark black hair from his face. He looked sick and pale. He was far too skinny, merely skin and bones. I could almost put my hands around his waist.

"I don't know, my fucking boyfriend found him up in the woods... No, I won't calm down, you fucking bitch, the dude's gonna die if you don't send help! I'm sixteen, what the fuck difference does it... Listen, you fucking moron. I'm not fucking pranking you I'm... No, I know I've called before but this is different! I... Don't fucking hang up on me you stupid fucking cunt! What the fuck?!?!?!"

"What?" I asked.

"They fucking hung up on me!"

"Seriously? They can't do that! That's fucking illegal!" I shouted.

"Well, here's the fucking phone, dickhead!" Brett shouted, holding the phone out to me. "Care to try your luck?"

"Call your fucking mother," I snapped.

Brett dialed his mom's number quickly. "Why the fuck is he naked?" Brett asked while he waited.

"I don't know, Brett. I found him like this," I replied.

"Why don't you go get him some boxers or something instead of stroking his fucking hair? Give the poor asshole some fucking dignity for Christ's... Mom! Dustin tried to kill himself! He's lying here on the floor and the fucking cunt from 9-1-1 just hung up on me. No, I'm not fucking joking!"

While Brett talked to his mom, I ran up to Brett's room and grabbed some boxers from his drawer. From the looks of Brett's room, Dustin had spoiled what was going to be a very romantic evening for us. I threw the lube that had been lying on the bed into a drawer and I blew out the candles Brett had lit and returned to the living room. Brett was holding Dustin's arms up and trying to apply pressure to Dustin's forearms.

"Mom's on her way," Brett said. "She's calling the ambulance again but she's still pretty far away. She said to keep pressure on his arms like this." He demonstrated what his mom had told him. I quickly put Brett's boxers on Dustin and joined him in holding Dustin's arms up and applying pressure to Dustin's wounds. It was now clear what had happened. Dustin's wrists seemed to be the only wounds he had, which meant that Dustin had done this to himself.

"Sorry I called you an idiot," I apologized.

"It's alright," Brett replied. "I'm sorry I called you a dickhead. Fuck, what's that smell?"

"He puked on me," I answered.

"Fuck, that reeks, dude," Brett said. "Smells like really sour beer."

"There were a lot of beer cans up there," I replied. "I think he tried to drink himself stupid and then he did this to himself." The sound of a siren started getting louder in the distance. I'd never heard a sweeter sound.

"That better be for us," Brett snapped. "I swear to god I'm going to punch that bitch who hung up on me in the fucking cunt."

Right before the ambulance arrived Dr. Reilly pulled into the driveway. She came running in through the kitchen and found her son and Dustin each in only a pair of Brett's boxers and me without a shirt on her living room floor. She scanned the scene and quickly replaced Brett at Dustin's side. "Before that ambulance gets here, run upstairs and put some clothes on. And change your shorts."

"Mom, I..." Brett started.

"DO IT!!" Dr. Reilly snapped. As Brett walked away, I noticed he had a dark wet spot on the back of his boxers from the lube that had leaked out of him during the chaos. He quickly slipped away upstairs as the ambulance pulled in front of the house. It hadn't even occurred to me that Brett had been in nothing but his boxers while everything had been going on.

Dr. Reilly told me to open the front door for the EMT's while she stayed with Dustin. Brett quietly walked back down the stairs while they attended to Dustin. Brett was now wearing a full set of clothes, and an unbuttoned blue shirt over top of his tee shirt. The EMT's spent about ten minutes or so bandaging Dustin's wounds and loading him onto a stretcher. Dr. Reilly followed them to the door.

"You have my number, Brett. You boys might have just saved his life. You said he was drinking, Billy?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"That's important to know. Thank you," she said quickly. "What were you boys doing half... Oh, we'll talk about this later. I'll call his mother on the way to the hospital. Billy, you better go home. Brett, you should go with him. I'll call you there." Then she quickly joined the EMT's in the ambulance and they rushed away.

I sighed very deeply as I watched the ambulance drive down the street. Everything had happened so fast that only now was I able to begin thinking again. I turned to say something to Brett, but he had already gone back into the house. I walked inside and closed the door. Brett was standing in the living room looking down at the bloody mess on the floor.

"He ruined our carpet," Brett said flatly.

"I guess I'm the one who ruined it. I'm the one who put him there."

Brett sniffed. "Stupid fucker. What the fuck was he trying to do, kill himself?"

"Brett..."

"Fucking asshole. Look what he did to our carpet," Brett's voice quivered. He got down on his knees where he'd been with Dustin just a few minutes before.

"Hey, it's okay," I said, putting my arm around him.

Brett shrugged me off of him and turned away from me as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. "My mom really liked this carpet. Fucking dick. Ugh! What is that smell? Oh that's right, he puked on you. You smell disgusting," he said. "Why don't you go take a shower?"

"Are you going to be okay alone?" I asked.

"I'm fine," Brett insisted. "I just need a minute."

"I know. Me too. I'm scared too, you know."

"You're not the one who destroyed his life," Brett replied.

"That's not what happened!" I protested.

"I should have just kept quiet. Now things are worse than ever," Brett sighed. Tears now streaked his cheeks and he couldn't stop them.

"You saved his life!" I replied.

"And now he's trying to end it!" Brett cried. "Dude, didn't you see his fucking arms? What he did to himself? He tried to fucking kill himself! If you hadn't found him he would be dead right now! Don't you get it? Dustin tried to kill himself because of me! I'm not a hero, Billy. I'm just a stupid kid! I ruined his life."

"You didn't ruin anything! His parents ruined his life, Brett! His dad is a monster, and frankly his mom's no better. Did you see how skinny the poor guy was? I've seen kids in Africa look healthier than him! He wasn't just being abused by his dad. The whole fucking family's been killing him for years! Maybe that family needed to be destroyed before it destroyed Dustin! I only wish I'd done what you did so you wouldn't feel so guilty about everything!"

"Don't tell me how I'm supposed to feel about this, Billy!" Brett snapped. "Everybody thinks they fucking know what's best for me. You! Mom! My stupid fucking doctor! Teachers! Well you can all go fuck yourselves! I've had it with fucking everybody! Everybody wants to fuck with my head! Everybody wants me to be somebody I'm not! Feel something I don't feel! I am not a fucking phony-ass freak! I have a right to feel the way I feel! And fuck you for trying to change me into something I'm not!"

"Jesus, Brett," I replied. "I'm only trying to help you."

"I don't need you to help me, I need you to love me!" Brett replied, futilely wiping away the tears that just wouldn't stop.

"How can I love you without wanting to help you?" I asked. "I'm not just some fuck-buddy, Brett. I'm your boyfriend. I love you to death! I would literally die for you! But seeing you so distraught over something that you did that was right is killing me, dude. Whether you want to believe it or not, you saved Dustin's life. What Dustin chooses to do with that life is out of your hands. You did the right thing. It wasn't the easy thing, it was the right thing."

Brett's eyes welled up and he broke down. I hugged him and just let him bawl for a while. I just soothed him and told him it was going to be okay until he got himself back under control. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," I replied. "You're entitled to one good rant every once in a while. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I got mad at you for being upset about what just happened?"

"I'm such a fucking crybaby. I still feel terrible about everything. Fuck, I don't want to know what my mom thinks was going on here."

"An orgy gone terribly wrong, I guess," I replied. "Come on, let me take a shower while you get what you need to stay at my house. Oh, by the way, I got my driver's license."

"Really? That's cool. Too bad mom didn't leave her keys, we could take her car over to your house," Brett said.

"That's okay, in all the confusion, I left a bag of my stuff up in the woods," I replied. We walked up the stairs. I stripped off my clothes while Brett got a towel for me so I could shower.

"Shit," Brett sighed as he looked at me standing naked in the doorway to the bathroom. "I was ready for you to fuck the hell out of me before all this shit happened. I'm still, like, all lubed up and everything too. But now I don't wanna do anything."

"It's okay," I replied. "There'll be other times."

"Guess I'm going to have to get another std test after he bled all over me," Brett said. "You'll be happy to know the last one came back clean after he spit on me."

"Well, that's one silver lining in all this," I replied.

While I showered Brett grabbed a few things to take to my house, and after I borrowed some clothes from him we walked back to my house. I grabbed my bag up at the top of the hill. Neither one of us wanted to get too close to Dustin's stump where I'd found him laying. From the hill, we could see the lights on at the Smiths' house. I wondered if they knew by now what had happened to Dustin. I wondered what life was going to look like for Dustin after everything that had happened.

When dad got home we told him what had happened. He sat up with us and we talked until two in the morning. Dr. Reilly called to let us know that Dustin was going to live, but he'd be in the hospital for quite a while even after he recovered physically, maybe months. When dad sent us to bed, neither one of us really slept. Brett was feeling better after talking with my dad, but I could tell that he was still really shaken up by what had happened. My mind never really settled down either. We both tossed and turned and alternately went from holding each other to being on opposite sides of the bed to eventually finding somewhere in between. I lightly stroked his back and he eventually fell asleep. I finally got to sleep soon afterward, only to wake up in terror from a nightmare involving Dustin and a lot of blood. It was going to take me a while to get over what happened that night.

Thanks for reading! Thanks even more for sending an email to let me know what you thought of this chapter, or the story in general! I really appreciate it!

You can reach me at jkwsquirrel@yahoo.com

Next time: Dustin's Revenge