Narrators Pov
You would've thought he was dead if it wasn't for his chest steadily rising and falling. As his eyelids slowly opened a dull grey- which used to be a bright blue- filled eyes took in the scene laying beneath him. Staring at the overgrown canopy he lifted him self up, cracking his neck with a satisfactory pop. ' Tommy!' a voice called sounding far off. He estimated he had about 5 minutes before the Jones- people who were fostering him- found where he was and took him back home.
Home. He hated calling it that. It would be more appropriate to call a box his home than that house. His home was gone, as his parents. He still remembered that dreadful night when his life got turned upside down.
{FLASHBACK}
TW: Burning, detailed injuries
It was a peaceful night, and Tommy was sleeping in his bed. Quite quickly the peace of the night was cut through by the screams of his parents, calling out to him. Smoke filled his lungs, clouding his vision. Ash clung to him settling over his burns, adding to the pain.
Finally his mum came into view but something was wrong. Why did his mum have a sleek cut on her forehead, blood trickling down her head falling onto the sizzling fire. As her face came into view-
{ End}
He woke up. Another nightmare.
