flatsound || newtmas

seven

He was in a room, the white walls enclosed him inside. "Where am I," he said as he unfurled from the fetal position. Other than him, the only other thing was a desk. A desk that was made with deteriorated wood and had nothing inside it. He slammed against the door, screaming. "HELP ME!" Thomas's voice broke as he sank on the floor...

Thomas woke up to the sound of banging on his door. "Thomas, get up! You have to make sure Chuck gets to school safe!" his mom yelled as she gave the door one more slap.

Groaning, Thomas threw the duvet onto the floor. His veins popped out of his hands a bit as he pressed them to the sheets. The floor was cold, his toes curled up at the feeling. The fog in his mind cleared as he got used to the feeling of being awake. The feeling being prominent; he realized that the vinyl wasn't spitting out lyrics anymore and the cold air from the now closed window didn't pass through his small bedroom.

As he stretched his lanky arms, the knocking started again. "Thomas get up! You have 30 minutes till the train leaves!" now his father was at his door now. He picked up the deep voice and stood quickly.

He smothered the blanket under the bed, not bothering to pick it up. Random tshirts and black jeans poked out from the overfilled dresser. He slipped on a second-hand, charcoal colored shirt and black jeans. He threw on a zip-up black sweater and his shoes.

His reflection looked through him. He bit his lip in distaste. He looked like a trainwreck. His hair was pointed in directions he didn't know how they weren't defying the laws of physics. The dark patches of skin beneath his eyes were puffy and wrinkled.

His bed looked welcoming and he just wanted to sleep again. He reached over the fluff to grab his phone. The door cracked slightly and Thomas looked up to see a timid looking Chuck at his door. "What's wrong Chuckie?" Thomas said, patting the spot next to him.

"I don't like it when he yells," Chuck whispered. "I know Chuckie, I'll tell him to stop yelling," Thomas said, giving him a side hug. The pudgy boy's semi crooked teeth pulled into a smile. Thomas tousled his hair and shooed him off.

Thomas sighed and dragged his hands over his face. His hand grasped the bag on the floor, one of the pins cool metal poked his skin. He gasped and pulled his hand back, the blood dripped onto the floor. It ran down his skin in one stream. He sucked on the spot, trying to stop the bleeding.

With his other hand, he maneuvered around the pins and grasped on the straps.
He slung the strap over his right shoulder and grabbed his house key.

When he walked out of his bedroom, Chuck sat on the couch. His eyes were darting across the television in excitement as the koalas came up on screen. "Are you watching National Geographic?" Thomas asked while grabbing an apple off the counter. "Of course! Did you know you can contract clamidya from those cute things," the small boy said while pointing at one of the animals.

"Okay, that's enough NatGeo for you for a while," The older said laughing while turning off the small box. "Hey! They were just getting to the fun facts!" Chuck yelled at him. "I think you know enough facts about them, c'mon were leaving." He clicked his tounge and turned the door knob,"Let's go Chuckie." He grabbed his messager bag and wobbled after Thomas.

***

Thomas held the boy's sweaty hand even though Chuck said he was gonna get pushed around by the other kids.

Thomas stopped in front of him and got down at eye level. Chuck was twelve years old, but Thomas still felt the need to protect him at all costs. "Hey, no one is gonna mess with you man. Not as long as I'm around," he reassured before patting his back. The younger threw his arms around him before running up the school steps.