Thomas Hewitt: End Of The Line

Black

Ronnie's labored breath seemed to reverberate off the concrete walls, filling Thomas with unrivaled dread as he watched her rest. With no sunrise or sunset to tell the days apart the only indication that a significant amount of time had passed was her body. Swollen from head to toe, the braces around her wrists and ankles had begun to dig further into her skin as she grew. The only comfort she seemed to find of late was the cool touch of the floor she was curled up on, though Thomas couldn't imagine it did any good for her increasingly fragile bones. It was painful just to watch her move in the last few days. Her spine seemed to have given up trying to stay straight under the pressure of housing his child within her small frame. Occasionally, she would try. With a hand on the small of her back, she would lean into it and try to hide the way she winced as her body struggled to find relief in the seemingly simple, yet difficult movement. True to her character, he hadn't heard her complain, not once. She suffered in silence, but he was far from blind to it. Anytime food was offered from the small hole Hoyt had made above them, Thomas was quick to give it all to her. Naturally, she would scold him until he took at least one bite, but though he was starving and there was no denying that, he couldn't eat. Not when he was forced to watch her own body chip away at itself to keep the child he'd put in her alive. It was killing her and she couldn't hide that fact from him any longer. It was written all over her stretched thin skin and embedded deep within those dark circles that framed her tired eyes. There was a shadow that seemed to hang around her and each day that passed it seemed to come closer, slowly taking pieces of her for itself. In doing so, it taunted him. Those were pieces she'd trusted him with that he had failed to protect, pieces he'd damned just by touching her. The shadow never failed to remind him of that, it didn't matter who's face it wore and it wore many, but he knew each and every one of them all too well. After all, he'd worn them himself. Thomas had been the shadow, they were one in the same not too long before, but now it had become its own entity, separate from him and resentful of that fact. It was starved, just as they were and she was the reason. He had turned away from it for her, now it had come to claim him once more by consuming the only light he'd ever known and it would do so with a smile.

Footsteps from above redirected his attention. He slowly lifted his gaze to that hole in the ceiling and waited. More often than not it was Hoyt, who's face was equally as taunting as the shadow's. He would peer down with that same smile too when his empty eyes drank in Ronnie's withering image. He didn't have to use words to belittle Thomas anymore, that satisfied grin did the job well enough. It got bigger each time he walked by, he knew it wouldn't be long until those pained screams he so craved would fill the Hewitt house to the brim. Thomas wondered who's cries would satisfy him more, because he knew it wasn't about her now, in fact it never was. This war Hoyt was waging had started long before Ronnie, she was simply caught in the crossfire and unfortunately, something he could use. She was the perfect weapon, forged in a love that never should have been and wrapped so tightly around Thomas' heart that when her breath abandoned her lungs, it wouldn't beat the same. It's rhythm was already becoming more unsteady with each passing second that drew her closer to death's door.

The footsteps halted and to Thomas' relief, it was Mama's face that came into view. She gave him a forced smile before she turned to retrieve a basket to lower down to him.

"Here, there's water and a little bit of food I managed to scrounge up. Should last at least the day if you two can ration it right," she said solemnly as she began to lower it down.

Thomas stood and met it halfway. He took out two mason jars filled with water and set them on his work table before he grabbed what was left. A couple of corncobs, a slice of bread and what looked like dried meat. He looked at it skeptically before he looked back up to Mama, who let out a small laugh.

"Don't worry, it's just deer. I wouldn't dream of feedin' her anything else," Mama said, but that little smile quickly faded, "how's she doin'?"

Thomas looked over at Ronnie, who's face contorted. Even in sleep she didn't seem to find comfort. He returned his gaze to Mama and let out a heavy breath. Her brow furrowed and she let her focus fall to her hands.