Burn slow

Chapter 13| Dead sleep

POV Wednesday

The living room was poorly lit with dim light from the fireplace and ominous shadows were crawling around the room. I sat on the couch having leaned back and tilted my head.
Father was supposed to get back from a business trip only the next day so Mother was the only one to solve the case. Her strict voice clanked in my ears:
- I am asking you again, young man. What did you do to my daughter? - Mother questioned Xavier so I realised from whom I inherited my love of a interrogation.
- I did nothing, - Xavier held his ground. - We were at the festival of Death. And... - Xavier sent me an S.O.S. with his glance.
- Did you get drunk? - interrupted Mother having come to her own completely wrong conclusions.
- No, we got into a fight with a freak, - I gave a brief but an honest answer. Mother gave me a freezing glance like she poured me with cold water:
- Usually you lie better, Wednesday.
- Usually you distinguish the truth better, Mother.
Mother looked at me askance scanning if she really could trust my words and then she turned to Xavier:
- And what is your name, young man?
- Xavier, - he coughed nervously keeping his hands in pockets. - Xavier Thorpe.
- Thorpe? - Mother crossed her arms on her chest and cocked her eyebrows. - Is Vincent Thorpe your father?
- Yes, he is, - Xavier admitted frowning with bewilderment. My mother pursed her lips breathing deeply and her eyes got widened:
- It's very late. I guess it's time to go home, mister Thorpe.
- Sure, - Xavier felt he just was chased away. He made several steps backwards addressing to me:
- Wednesday, let me know how you feel in the morning.
I gave a nod to Xavier watching him leaving my house. I gulped trying to swallow the weird feeling of being too alone.

The door shut and the subtle silence lingered in the room for a minute that felt to last for hours.

- Let's talk in the morning, - that was the only thing that Mother said to me after Xavier had gone.

After these words Mother left the room leaving me alone to collect my thoughts and gather physical strength to get up and go to my room.

I crawled in bed in the hope of falling asleep but that was in vein. I laid with arms to the sides, staring at the blackness of my canopy. In spite of the desperate attempts to process everything that had happened my brain felt to be made of foam and the throat seemed to have turned into the red-hot iron. I felt someone had poured rocks into my lungs so every breath seemed an ordeal and fingers were constantly being pricked with needles. Last events could ruin my world and the inner pain that I was enduring was like hot lava spilling out from my heart spreading across the rest of my body. This lava could burn my entity to a crisp. But I am not whom it would work with.

I shuffled backwards on my stomach letting the cold from the cotton sheets at my bed soak to my head and limbs.
My fingers got into the sheet and I roared like a wounded animal. But the thing is when an animal is harmed it gets enraged. I am wounded but still alive. So my fangs and claws are ready to rip out the flash of my enemies.

"Tyler's feeling" that had tortured me before morphed to the emotion more familiar and pleasant to me - fury. May the anger lead me so I can plan a decent sophisticated revenge. And as it is known the revenge is a dish that is served cold. Even blood-chilling, I would say.

The events of the last evening mingled with something ... less appalling.

Xavier's silhouette loomed in front of my eyes in the darkness, he hovered in the air restricting me from sleep. It seemed to me I could see his olive eyes glittering in the darkness and I was almost certain I could hear his remote voice.

Or maybe I just hit my head too hard.

I managed to fall asleep in a couple of hours before the sunrise.