Your real family

6

The telephone violently rang in the distance as they walked into the house; Wilbur plucked it out of the socket and with a thud the phone cracked from impact on the ground. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as the ringing died out like a man taking his last breaths. (Tommy felt like he could relate to that now)They hadn't spoken on the car ride home --mostly because Tommy couldn't. His mouth was taped shut with duct tape that was stuck so hard Tommy could hardly breathe. You could say he was terrified over and over again but it would never explain what he deeply felt. Anger? Resentment? Guilt? No not quite. Tommy dug his brain for a word he could relate to when it finally hit him: remorse. Tommy knew he deserved this, his family was right to be mad at him. He'd left the house without their permission, they were probably worried sick for him, he wished he could just make it up to them...

Tommy snapped back to his senses when they stopped in front of a room, a broad doorframe, newer than the others, cradled the chipped, brown, wooden door with a freshly painted, golden door handle accompanied by a keyhole. He'd never been in the room before, but he remembered Techno labelling it as an office. It was anything but.

A light flickered as Phil unlocked the door, mono-yellow wallpaper, sprayed with dust covered the walls that were tightly squeezing the room, making it feel so much smaller than it already was. The ground was scratched concrete tiles, hard like a rock. The room was empty with just a hanging light above that didn't stop buzzing and flickering, spewing yellow light across the room like puke.

Tommy heard Phil breathe for the first time since they arrived. "Tommy what were you thinking?" The words jolted at Tommy like fire being released from a dragons mouth. Tommy felt himself crumble inside so he chose not to answer. "I mean, anything could've happened to you, you could've gotten kidnapped, attacked, injured and we wouldn't even know where to look!" Phil could've screamed if it weren't for the late hour.

Techno shifted behind him.

Phil sighed heavily. "One week I'm giving you. For one week you will have nothing to do but think about what happened, okay?" Phil continued after a needed breath. "We will bring you food and water daily, but it will be just enough for the whole day, don't waist it."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Wilbur was quick to answer. "He means you will be staying in the room."

"What!? No you can't do that!" Tommy interjected, his voice thick with anger.

"Sorry Toms, but it's for your own good."

Those were the last words Tommy heard before all he could see was mono-yellow and the feeling of cold concrete floors beneath his feet.

The first night had been terrible. Tommy couldn't fall asleep as he was distracted by the shivering feeling of the hard, concrete floor. When Tommy could only assume was midnight, the light flickered off, leaving Tommy huddled next to the wall in a pitch black room. He hummed himself a tune before he drifted off into sleep. 

Tommy found himself drowning in a lake, whatever he did, he couldn't swim up. He kept fighting for the surface, but the more he swam up, the further the surface was from him. He slowly felt water drift into his lungs, he choked and tried to cough it out, but was unsuccessful. The salt burned in his throat as the last of his breath escaped his body and he was left helpless, drowning in an ocean he couldn't remember being at. Darkness slowly closed his vision as he fell through the misty, blue ocean. 

Tommy gasped when he woke up, sweat beaming down his neck. He tried to slow down his breathing when he realised he wasn't wet, but once again became devastated upon realising where he was. He glanced beside himself at a yellow container sectioned off for different foods.  The first section was filled with some salad, not nearly enough for even one meal. The second was filled with one chicken slice and next to it, the last one was filled with one pizza slice. 

How is this supposed to last me a whole day? Tommy thought, still drenched with sweat from his dream. If I eat this little per day, there's no way I'll survive. 

This is the moment Tommy started to realise something. This whole time, he didn't realise the act his family had done. He couldn't believe it, he didn't know how he had been so stupid, he had fallen fort it, he couldn't believe he had fallen for it. He was gonna leave this room -- this house. He didn't know where he would go, but he knew any place would be better than here. Why had his parents left him? Who killed them? 

Tommy dug his brain for a plan -- just something to help him escape, but he came up with none. That was until it hit him. Every morning, Phil had said that they would bring him food, basically saying they would open the door. He knew it was crazy as they would obviously be by the door, but if Tommy were to just misdirect their attention for one second... 

The fork clang next to the wall when Tommy accidentally kicked it with his left leg. His eyes widened when an idea came to mind, the fork. If Tommy just kicked the fork into the hallway when the door would be opened, whoever were to be there, would go up towards the fork, or at least look at it, giving Tommy enough time to make a run for it. Even if they were to see Tommy (which they obviously will), Tommy would just run and run until he's outside, where he will go to the police station. It sounded easy in Tommy's head, but he just knew it wasn't going to be, the chances of him actually outrunning them are low to none. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try though.

Tommy drifted into a nap so he could have some energy, as it was going to be a long night.

-/-/-

After Tommy stopped himself from dozing off to sleep in the pitch black room for the seventh time, he heard something -- footsteps. Tommy grabbed the fork, still stinking with vinegar from the salad and placed it in kick distance from his foot. His heart beat fast in his chest as he heard the keys jingle from outside the door. He then held his breath as the door creaked open...

CLANG!

All Tommy saw before he set off running was a head full of brown hair -- Wilbur who screamed: "TOMMY!" 

Tommy didn't look back as he ran through the dim hallways towards the front door, never mind, it was locked and there was no time to waste. Tommy sprinted towards the window and flung it open with a click of the latch. He felt a cold breeze on his skin and borrowed himself a look at the boy chasing him from behind. Tommy felt his heart drop in terror at Wilbur's anger as he ran towards the window. A small hesitation and Tommy jumped.

"Tommy, come back right now." Tommy heard once his feet had hit the ground, he knew Wilbur was right behind him, so he didn't glance back, or hesitate before he sprung to a sprint once again. 

Tommy hadn't noticed he was crying before the first stranger had forced him to a stop. He nodded quickly and acted as if he were just walking again until the lady looked away, that's when he heard Wilbur's fast - approaching footsteps almost straight next to him. To Tommy's terror, judging by the pattern of the footsteps, he realised Wilbur was just walking. 

"Tommy." A hand latched at Tommy's arm, his heartbeat increased until he could feel it coming out of his chest. He tried his hardest to yank t off, but it just wouldn't budge. 

Finally, Tommy gave up and looked Wilbur dead straight in his eyes. Terror lurched out at Tommy just seeing the fury in Wilbur's blank face. 

"I'm s-sorry..." Tommy managed to blurt out before Wilbur practically dragged him back to the house. Was this the end? What were they gonna do now? 

Tommy knew he messed up. 

He knew this could cost him everything.