Doll House

XXI. Crossing

 His feet are moving in place, she notices. She's watched this boy for years, and yet, she only started seeing him a few hours ago. If you asked, Tara couldn't really tel you all that much about Tom Abbott. He was quiet, she knew that. And he couldn't hear as well as other children, because of an unfortunate incident a few years back. He was a boy who never really bothered anyone and in return, no one ever bothered about him much. And he was scared, right now, not because of what had been once, and not because of what might be, should he manage to escape the world of nightmares. He was scared because of what was. Right now. He was scared of the faded purple haze that hung low over the bridge, and of the unstable wooden boards.

One missing here, and only three more to go, hop, skip, make sure you don't fall.

He was terrified of the nightmare sounds coming at his back, turning, reeling, searching for their leader even now, hungry for power.

Tara knew everything about him and she was... overwhelmed. She should've done more for him, perhaps, she should've talked to him sometime, been nicer to him, because here he was now, in a riddle he might never leave. And it seemed a shame to think that all there ever was in his childhood was silence.

'It's alright,' he said, hearing her in his mind. But it wasn't. She could tell by the almost soundless gulp in his voice that it wasn't alright. That he'd waited ages for someone to feel this way and now that it had finally come, it was a tad underwhelming.

'Let's go now,' she pleaded.

And there was despair inside the boy's heart, for he found he didn't really want to leave the dreamworld.

'Why?' he asked, more despondent than ever. 'What's out there for any of us? The only home we've ever known is gone now. There is no one to care for us, no one who wants us in their lives.'

She could hear the nightmare voices in those words, but she could also hear the boy. The voices had merely formed a thought that existed inside the boy's mind long before. Tara thought about this. With the gentle swing of the boy's hand, she glimpsed in his other, the teddy bear, remembered how shallow he'd sounded that first night, how mean. She would've never pictured him on a journey such as this. And yet here he was, once again tormented by the nightmares all around him. There was something broken inside the old bear's eyes, something almost... mournful. And she knew that if they didn't get out of here soon, there would be nothing left inside his head.

'There is the house of toys,' she said, quietly. 'There is something more waiting for you, even when you think there isn't.'

And she saw it in her head, clearly, the boy's life – days that might be, days that might not.

'There is a whole world out there, Tom.'

Her words sounded kind in Tom Abbott's ear, and not many ever had, so he believed her, even though he wasn't exactly sure why. There was hope, in what she said, and maybe she really could see things in her mind.

Maybe I can, she thought and it all happened in a flash. There was no big 'aha' moment, no shocked cry, no pause to wonder. There was just the briefest of seconds behind her cobalt-blue eyes, where she understood, finally, what the Overall Man had meant.

Your gifts are for you alone to discover.

And she thought she knew hers. And she finally understood why she'd always felt so strongly about the Overall Man. And she understood many things, and set them aside to a quiet part of her mind, that might deal with them later. She knew. And it would really be a shame now that she knew.

In the second that Tara thought all this, Tom Abbott gathered up all his courage, reeling it in in fat handfuls. He would cross the bridge because he could. Because the things on the other side might be bad, but staying in here forever seemed even worse.