Can't Say No

Chapter Eight

I couldn't sleep at all that night. I kept dreaming the same thing, of having the perfect family and having them brutally taken away. I always woke in a cold sweat, and finally I stopped to sleep. Sitting up, I looked over and saw Toby was fast asleep. Quietly, I climbed down the rope ladder and sat with my back against the tree trunk. It was cold tonight, but I didn't care. Sighing, I pulled out my pocket knife and started blindly twirling it around. Within minuets I had a new set of cuts on my finger tips, and small droplets of blood had covered the blade. The pricks of pain felt good, but I knew it was a bad idea to continue this. Still, I kept twirling the small knife in my hands, every now and then switching to my other hand. Life was so confusing now, it wasn't even funny. Though, I had laughed these past few days. My thoughts started wandering about, and I started thinking about school. I wondered if anyone but Ellen had noticed I was missing, and if anyone else missed me. Probably not. I was a smart-mouthed outcast that didn't really like anyone. Then I wondered what day it was. I didn't know how long I had been out in the hospital, and it had been almost two days already since leaving there. I sighed again. My thoughts were all a jumbled mess and I didn't really want to think. So I started carving pictures into the tree. A girl with long hair, a younger girl and older boy, and two happy parents. My dream family, forever to be in my imagination. As I was working on the final features, I heard a heartbeat behind me. "Toby?" I thought. "Was he up?" Turning around, I was indeed looking at Toby, but he wasn't wearing his glasses or mask. Weird, he always wears those. "What's that?" He asks, peering at my carving. Shrugging my shoulders, I moved aside so he could look. "Just a picture." Toby sits down beside me, which was again, weird. He was usually really distant. "Why are you up?" He asks. "Could ask the same to you." He shrugged. "Heard you get up, got curious, now I'm here." I chuckle. "Alright then. I just couldn't sleep." I push a strand of hair out of my face. My black hair was now at my waist, and I was really sick of it. "I really need to cut this hair." I complained, tossing it behind my back. Toby laughed. "Why? It looks fine to me." "Yeah, but you don't have to live with it. It's literally the most annoying thing in the world." He arches an eyebrow at me. "Most annoying?" Rolling my eyes, I say "No, probably not. That title goes to... My adoptive parents. They earned that title." Toby went quiet after that. I didn't try and think of why, I just went back to carving. It was easy to make the family's facial features, I had pictured them in my mind thousands of times. I felt Toby watch as I continued carving, but I didn't say anything. Normally, I snap on anyone watching me draw, but I didn't to Toby. Don't ask me why, I don't really know. But he didn't judge, he didn't ask questions, he just kept quiet and watched. I was almost done, when I realized my knife was too big for the hair details and eye details. I dug my hand into my pocket and fished around. "What are you looking for?" Toby asks. "Bobby pin." I say. When he tilts his head in confusion, I say "It's small enough and has a good enough point to do the last details." I can't find a bobby pin, so I pulled out a paper clip instead. "Whatever, this should do." I start on the hair details, when I hear a wolf howl nearby. "That's not good." Toby says. "I suppose... Wanna go back up?" He beat me to it. Toby was already half way up the ladder. "You scared of wolves?" I joke as I climb up behind him. "No." He says. "Ugh, telling a joke around you is impossible. You do have a sense of humor, right?" "No." Damn, he's working me up. "Whatever." I pull out a flashlight, sketchbook, and pencils. I wasn't going to bed, and I wasn't going to sit around doing nothing. I start drawing my dream family again, but a little different. Instead of a brother and a sister, I draw myself with two older brothers. And I make their features different. I try to draw quietly in case Toby wants to sleep, but he just sits and watches me. A bit creepy, but I still, STILL, didn't say anything. I want my perfect family to seem real, I want them to be real in my mind. So I always tried extra hard for them to look perfect. "What's the significance of those family drawings?" Toby asks from his spot. I sigh, again. "Well, it's the family I always pictured I could have. I draw them the way I sometimes picture them. It's kinda hard, but fun. I guess..." I go back to my drawing. Outside, I can hear birds and wolves and all sorts of animals moving about. It's interesting thing to listen to. "Hey, can I borrow a piece of paper and I pencil?" I look up at Toby. "He wants...to draw?" I think. A murderer, drawing... Something here isn't right. Shrugging, I toss him a pencil and a few pieces of paper. "Knock yourself out." I also toss him a small lantern, cause drawing in the dark is hell. After some time, I look up at the window. The sky is gaining light, and the morning sparrows are cawing. "It's morning already?" I mutter. I look over at Toby, ready to ask what he wants for breakfast, and see he's fast asleep, head against the wall. I smile to myself, and peek at what he drew. It was really good. A woman with dark brown hair, a man with light blonde hair, a blonde girl, and a lightly brown haired young boy. He had excellent drawing skills, that was for sure. Quietly, I wrote him a note saying I was going out to shower and buy breakfast, then slip from the tree house. Bag over my shoulder, phone in my pocket, I happily walked down the wooded path. When I reached a cafe, I'd ask what day it was. I was actually planning on going back to school, even though that sounded stupid. I just wanted to graduate, then I figure life out. Maybe I'd still live with Ellen and leave the tree house to Toby. Seemed better than actually living in the tree house with him. Yeah, yeah this could work. I was so happy I began to whistle. Funny how my emotions are like a roller coaster. Upside down one minute, going up high and fast the other. Life was strange now, but at least I was on the high road.