Cold As Ice

Chapter twenty four

*Thomas's P.O.V*

 We were walking to my house. My old house. I rang the doorbell, that familiar sound sent shivers down my spines. A man opened the door.

"I'm getting my stuff." I said, avoiding his eyes.

"You even got your faggot to help you." he said.

"Don't call him like that." I said, looking into his eyes. For the first time, my eyes met his eyes. We had the same eye colour. 

"Make it quick." he said, letting us in. The mother was still in the kitchen, smoking and coughing. Chris was, again, drinking.  

Derek opened my bedroom's door. There was a bed. White sheets and a yellow duvet. I remember sleeping in it with him here once or twice. I stepped in and got in the middle of the room.  The white walls, the furniture, everything seemed untouched. A Batman toy resting on my drawer. I looked around. The ceiling, the wooden floor. If my parents would have cared about me, this would have been my bedroom. The one where I would sleep every night, the one where I would dream of people I love. Not a prison. I walked to the closet and opened the door. I sighted and touched the wall. Little black lines were marked there. It would take a while to count them all. Those lines. Each hours I'd be stuck in my bedroom as a kid, there would be a line. It started at 5 year old, It ended when I was 11. Yes, I met Derek when I was 7, but I started running away when I was 11. Whenever I'd come home when I was a kid, I'd be sent into my room, for no particular reason. Each hours that I wasn't sleeping, I'd take a Sharpie markers and make a little line on the white wall. I'd make line on my skin, even though my mother would scream at me. Of course, I never told anyone. I only said that my parents didn't want me in the house. 

''Where do we start?'' Derek asked.

I kept my eyes on the wall, filled with little lines. I could spent my entire day here, stuck in this room with one window. ''Take my Batman, that's all I want.'' I said.

''You're sure?''

''Yes.'' I took the black marker on the floor and opened the lid. I went to a blank wall and wrote. 'The last line on the wall' followed by a long and thick line. 'Sincerly, Thomas, the accident.' I turned around to my best friend. ''You took everything?'' I asked.

''Yup.''

I looked around again and back to Derek. He hugged me as I started crying. All the times I cried, screamed and suffered from loneliness when I was here. I couldn't stay one more minute in there. I whipped my tear and got out of the room, followed by Derek. With the marker, I wrote 'Thomas's prison' on the door, visible enough for everybody to see. I ran down the stairs and looked at the two people who were suppose to me my parents. ''Go away.'' the man said. 

''Farewell.'' I said. Derek and I went outside. 

''What's with the line and the prison thing?'' my best friend asked.

''My nightmares.'' I simply said. Derek stayed silent, knowing he shouldn't bother asking questions, since I wouldn't answer. 

We were walking back to Derek's house, silently.

"Derek." I chuckled.

"What?"

"I DON'T HAVE PARENTS!" I shouted. I started laughing. "I don't have parents! My parents are disowning me!" I kept on laughing. 

Then came my birthday. January 31st. I was turning 18 years old. 

Following the family tradition, we ate the birthday cake throughout the day. After supper, it was time for gifts. The first thing I got was a card from the Taylor's.