Start Over

Once upon a time. . .

So imagine a boy. A small one. Barely able to form coherent sentences due to a minor speech impediment. Put a shock of blond hair on his head and then add bright blue eyes. Now imagine with those features a small cute little mouth and a button nose with the background of satin smooth, cream colored skin. This was Riley. At least when he was three.

At this time he is oblivious to anything that doesn't effect him. Of course this is true due to the simple fact that he's three. He doesn't even really register the fact that he had broken his arm a couple weeks back. This still did not hinder him from playing with his toys or action figure of whatever t.v. character fad was happening.

Not a care in the world.

Sounds like he's the perfect toddler with the perfect life doesn't it.

Skip forward a couple months and his parents are at eachothers throats again. He's four now and already he's memorizing this scene subconsciously. His mother with her explosion of wild red hair and his father already with a bald spot framed by wispy blond hair. He is scared from all the yelling and is hiding in the corner of his room with his stuffed Labrador he had gotten at the store and lovingly named the cotton filled bag,"scypher."

Every time the pitch of the intense battle seems to reach the summit of anger, it goes higher. This only scares him more as he cowers in the corner, hiding from the scary and loud world he lived in.

The screams stop but he doesn't see daddy much more. And for some reason he has the same dream, over and over again. Every night for weeks. He's always falling in the dark and then he sees his bed comforter and thinks its going to catch him, but he falls right through it and wakes up in a child's fright and a cold sweat.

He still hides this because he doesn't know how to tell others about it.

He us scared and doesn't know how to stop that.

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Sorry if this is short. Did this on my phone and low battery. It seems long enough though.