After his parents' sudden death, Chester Covington leaves everything behind and moves in with his aunt.
But nobody knows what is going on behind the facadé of a traumatized boy who has watched his parents die that he puts up ever single day of his...
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I have no idea when I fell asleep or how I could feel safe enough to let my mind shut down in someone's arms. But when my eyes jolt open, I'm not in the school's restroom anymore.
Sitting up with a start, I look around me with frantic eyes. It feels hard to breathe until my eyes suddenly find my backpack at the end of the bed that I'm sitting on.
I quickly grab it and zip it open, checking if anything is missing. When I'm positive that everything is still there, I let out a shaky breath of relief. My mind is a mess and with all those voices screaming at me, I have no chance to fix it, which causes my stomach to churn painfully.
It could cause a panic attack to take control of me if I'm not cautious, which would be a horrible thing to happen in a place that I have no idea of where it is.
I glance over to the small window of this cramped yet tidy room. The sun is already halfway back into its hiding place and the sky's colors are just as much of a mess as my head is. Only thing different is, that the sky's mess consists of beautiful colors that are intermingled with each other, and the one in my head is just a bunch of voices, laced with fury, yelling at me all at the same time.
Carefully, I swing my legs over the bed frame, set on leaving this room which slowly starts to make me feel suffocated.
But when I try to stand up, my legs give in and my stomach burns in agony. I fall back down onto the bed, my face scrunched up into a grimace. I think back to what happened at lunch time and mentally groan in frustration. I almost forgot, but how could I when I had a reminder of what happened plastered on my stomach?
With one of my hands, I lift my hoodie only a tad bit, revealing a purple bruise right underneath my belly button. But on top of that, I guess the punch has agitated the other, much older bruises as well, because they have become more painful again. Their colors have most probably also been triggered, seeing how vibrant they are looking again.
Sighing, I swallow down the growing lump in my throat, and attempt to stand up again, only this time slower and much more careful.
After a few failed attempts, I'm finally on my feet. I instantly swing my bag over my shoulder, before I tiptoe my way over to the only door in this room.
As I proceed to do so, I let my eyes wander around the room once again, this time with questions racing behind them. Whose room is this? Where am I? Why does it look so empty in here? Why the hell am I even here?
I halt abruptly when a thought crosses my mind. I think back to Riku's arms around me, his hand buried in my hair, playing with them and twirling them around with his fingers in a somewhat calming manner.
Is this- . . No, it's not, right? That's impossible.
I push the thought aside and instead try to concentrate on the task at hand - getting out of wherever the hell this place is.
