Safe Hands

11. Pass History

Grayson lay in his bed, unable to close his eyes. The night was tough; he couldn't sleep without getting nightmares. The plank over his window reminded him of his old room, where Charlie had forced him to hold a plank while he nailed it to the wall. Many times, the hammer hit his fingers. When he could no longer hold it, Charlie became rageful. All he could recall was lying on the cold ground, paralyzed by pain, as the door creaked shut and Charlie swore out loud.

He turned to stare at the wall, trying to ignore the barred window, but his eyes kept drifting back to the plank. It made the room dark, and the sunlight no longer leaked in.

Grayson watched his empty bed just below the window. He wanted to sleep on it, but his toxic thoughts told him Charlie might burst through the window and strangle him, at least that was what happened in his nightmares. Grayson frowned at his thoughts but couldn't brush the feeling away, so he tossed on his side. The ground was fluffy thanks to the rug, and the sheets kept him warm.

He was interrupted by approaching footsteps, and in no time, the door creaked open, allowing the hallway light to leak in. It was Alex. Grayson shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep, not wanting to be forced into a conversation. He could hear Alex muttering a few words worriedly before he walked into the room, paused at the desk, and then left as carefully as he had come.

Downstairs, Grayson could hear the other boys, Russell and Julian, as he had come to know them. He bet they were getting ready to head to school and felt glad he didn't have to join them. Hopefully, the comments on his academic records would scare any institution away.

After a few minutes, Grayson got up, feeling an instant headache that almost discouraged him from doing anything. But he recalled Alex's words; he needed to help Rosa with the chores, giving him the right to step out of his room and explore the house, or try to run away.

Grayson got into the shower, washing up because Alex seemed disgusted the other time and had made a fuss about the importance of bathing. Grayson went over the scars on his body, counting the fading ones and trying not to think too much about the stories behind them. He didn't forget to take a smoke by the bathroom window to relax for the day, as usual, he flushed the evidence and got rid of the smell.

His first smoke? He had stolen Charlie's expensive packet of cigarettes and tried them out because he was hungry and thought they were somewhat satisfying. Charlie took it, as did his mom, who was no more. In the process, he got caught. Wanting to get rid of the poison that hurt his throat and gave him a horrible cough, Charlie forced him to finish all the sticks, even when he bled through his nostrils after the third one and begged for forgiveness.

A soft knock drew him back to reality. He quickly put on gray shorts and a black hoodie, not forgetting his stockings. He did not bother to respond as he slipped the cigarette packet back into the drawer.

Rosa walked in. "Good morning, Grayson. Mr. Alex would like you to help me with the chores. He said he already informed you."

Grayson wanted to ignore her so badly, but he didn't want a long sermon from Alex and Damien while facing the wall.

"I'm coming," he breathed softly. She nodded and left.

Grayson noticed the notebook and pen on the desk; they weren't there until Alex came in. He went straight to grab the pen and started doing a profane graffiti on the wall. He was so engrossed in it that he didn't notice the time flying by. When he was done, he pulled the curtain to cover the art.

Getting out of his room, he headed downstairs cautiously; the voices were gone. He climbed down the stairs to find the living room with the attached dining space empty. He walked to the kitchen for the first time, only to be mesmerized by the space and kitchen setup, mainly oak and gray. Compared to the old kitchen that had roaches and rats sharing rent, it was the first time he saw a kitchen one could live in.