The Grean Household

18: Crawling Slow

Willow's mother would come and go, a gift always in hand as she did. However, when she'd come back, a few things would go missing when she'd leave. Oliver's room was beginning to thin out, Sarah's clothing beginning to disappear with every visit.

Though, each visit was like the last, with Willow hanging off her mother's hip, telling her about school. She noticed that Emma wouldn't go near her mother with Willow around, just the same as Alex would avoid them if he saw Sammy. The two looked at them like they were snakes wrapping around their mother's ankles. 

Oliver was getting quieter, taking care of the young twins who were close to their 2nd birthday. It was the summer of 2033, the heat swirling around in their visions as they ran through the neighborhood. Every house seemed to have sprinklers in their front lawn, splashing the kids as they ran by.

Sammy was in the house, the cool breeze blowing in his hair. His skin seemed to be on fire from the heat of the afternoon sun, his internal body temp rising. Sweat dripped down his nose in thick beads, his breath labored as he drank cold water. Willow was next to him, and her mother in the laundry room, folding clothes. It was quiet before an echo bounced off the walls and down the stairs.

Willow paused, cup to her lips, glancing at Sammy who kept drinking. Then, the sounds of rushing feet were coming down the stairs, the sounds of Alex snickering getting closer. Now, Sammy took the cup away from his mouth, watching the doorway. 

As soon as Alex appeared, he thrusted a toy out for for Sammy to look, only to stuff it under his arm and begin to run. Willow only saw Sammy throw the cup onto the counter, the cold water spilling as it tipped. Then, he bolted out of the kitchen, after Alex, whose hard feet were thumping before the door swung open, knocking down a metal object. Willow was quick to clean up the spilt water, glancing around the corner and out the windows where she saw Alex bolting for the street, with Sammy following close behind. Under Alex's arm was Sammy's old stuffed animal that was given to him by their mother.

Sammy sprinted as fast as his 7-year-old body would take him. His breath was labored, legs pumping viciously as he chased after Alex, who was 8 and outrunning him by a couple feet. Sammy had his eyes trained on the flopping part of his stuffed elephant, trapped underneath Alex's arm as he sprinted. Soon, he noticed Alex was slowing down into a jog, apparently winded from the long time sprint. Although his body was beginning to give, Sammy didn't stop pumping his legs. His pace was beginning to falter, but he only cared about his stuffed animal in Alex's possession. 

Alex began to turn into the street, looking to jog over to the other side. Sammy turned sideways, angling himself to shoot for the point he would see Alex ending up. In a full sprint, Sammy shot across the road, jumping the curb and depleting the distance between them. Alex glanced back, eyes growing wide and legs beginning to pump again when he saw Sammy still chasing after him. His acceleration delayed because of his fatigue, letting Sammy deplete the distance entirely.

His feet left the ground, Sammy's first instinct was to grab his stuffed animal, the second being to try and maintain his balance as his body landed on Alex's back. The grip Sammy had on the part of his toy was strong, the fabric curled in his fingers. Alex bent over, his shoes scraping the pavement as he began to fall to the side. Sammy tumbled over his back, still hanging onto his elephant as his body turned. With his grip still keen on the toy in Alex's grip, Sammy turned him with his momentum, skidding them both against the rough pavement.

Sammy's skin was peeled as he tumbled into the grass, hissing with pain as tears pricked his eyes. Small drops of blood began to roll down his elbow and onto the grass. Still in his hands was the part to his toy. He laid there, unmoving for several seconds as he tried to catch his breath, the burning in his arm and legs taking his ability to inhale. With his nose buried in the grass, Sammy tried to breathe, his nostrils flaring as specks of dirt was sucked into his airways. He pushed himself to his back, closing his eyes, sweat dripping down the side of his temple.

Alex groaned out in pain, holding his wrist before quickly holding his scratched calf. Small trickles of blood painted his fingertips. Falling from his armpit was the animal, stuffing slowly slipping out of the fabric. He glanced over at Sammy, noticing that the trunk of the stuffed animal was gripped tightly in his bloody hand, his body still as he laid there in the grass.

Sammy slowly sat up, huffing gently, breath hitching as pain knocked the wind out of his body. Then, he glanced at Alex, squinting as the sun beat down on them. Alex groaned gently, slowly getting up. He squeezed his calf, limping as he stood up straight. At his feet was the elephant, the trunk torn off. In Sammy's hand was the missing part, stuffing falling out, making the part flat. He stared at the trunk before looking back at Alex. Sammy said nothing.

Willow jogged up, noticing her brother sitting in the grass, looking up at Alex. She was quick to his aid, bending down in the grass, realizing there was blood dripping from his arm, but he seemed unfazed. Sammy stared straight at Alex, his gaze wide and unsettlingly dark. She grabbed hold of his back, helping him up. Sammy limped, grabbing at the side of his knee, which was also bleeding a considerable amount. Emma came around the corner, stopping as she noticed the state Alex and Sammy were in.

The two girls quickly helped them home. Emma notified their mother, to which she threw the clothes she had in her hands onto the bed, quickly rushing out to her bleeding boys. Willow had sat Sammy down in a chair, noticing how he was still staring at Alex, saying nothing. 

Sarah quickly aided Alex, noticing how he jolted ever time she did a strip of fluid onto his wounds. Her focus was solely on him, working her hands quickly as she wrapped a bandage around his calf. Then, she glanced up at Sammy, noticing that Willow was dabbing his elbow and knees with a bloody paper towel, trying to get his attention. Sarah noticed that her son seemed unfazed and was focused on Alex.

She quickly bent down in front of Sammy, softly dabbing his deep scrapes with a small wipe, watching the blood soak through the whiteness. Sammy didn't flinch, he simply stared straight at Alex, a frown on his face. His fists were clenched, body still as Sarah begin to bandage him up. 

"What happened?" She asked, noticing that Sammy huffed shakily, almost preparing himself to cry.

"I don't know, Sam started chasing Alex, and-" Willow began to explain, pointing at Alex across the room, who glanced at Emma by his side, who was staring at them.  

"He took Theodore." Sammy finally whispered, opening his palm, revealing the trunk that was torn from his elephant when he tried to tackle Alex. Sarah stared at the dark blue  fabric in his palm, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Then, she softly shook her head, looking back up at her son. Sammy's brows were knit together, lips forming into a pout as tears began to pool in his eyes.

"Look buddy, we'll get you a new one, okay? Don't worry." Sarah managed a smile, watching as Sammy nodded, rubbing his eyes. He wiped the tears away. She had no patience to yell, and barely had the energy to think about a talk with her oldest son, so Sarah decided to simply leave the incident at that. Alex cowered as she walked by, but grew surprised as she simply just left them sitting in the living room.

Alex glanced over at Sammy and Willow, noticing how Sammy never took his eyes off of him while Willow pulled him from the chair. The group passed by each other with tensions high. It seemed like they were completely different- like Willow and Sammy were just kids that Sarah picked up from a place she found. It was the instinct that was telling Emma and Alex that Willow and Sammy were outsiders-that they didn't belong in their household.

Sarah returned back to the clothes, the old ache in her bones almost made her lay down, though she remained standing. She rubbed her face, groaning gently as she stared at the piles of clothes she still had to fold. Then, as if to remember what was still waiting for her, Sarah glanced to her suitcase. She always came home with it empty, only to leave with it filled with clothes that she was dumping back at her apartment. Slowly but surely, she began to move into her new role in the capital. It seemed like a completely separate life, the barrier made up of white lies and secret truths, but it was a role Sarah was willing to grow into.