TOM

Chapter 3

Tom had abusive parents who also had drinking problems. They used Tom as their personal punching bag. He was never safe, not even in his own home. Usually, when he has to get away from them, he went to a motel. About a year ago, Tom stole his dad's debit card. That's how he was able to pay for food and a room at the motel.
I would ask my parents if Tom could stay with us, but one, they didn' actually know about Tom. They thought I was always with a girl named Sarah, our neighbor down the street. Because of our how small our town was, my parents weren't very protective of me. They didn't care much where I was as long as I replied to their texts and was home for dinner. Therefore, I could go almost anywhere I pleased at any time.
Tom and I had a special spot in The Angel Park. It was by far the quietest place in all of West Bay, Washington. It's about a ten-minute walk from our neighborhood. The park was called The Angel Park because there was a graveyard. The park is beautiful. In the Summer, there are patches of colorful flowers and tall, green trees with occasional cool breezes. In the Winter, the park is covered in pure, sparkling, white snow with icicles that looked like clear daggers.
We entered the park, trees slowly starting tower over us. There was a faded, painted sign that said "Welcome to the Angel Par". The "k" had fallen off. The town government believes that the  funds shouldn't go to the park. Tom strongly disagreed. He said that one day he would replace the sign with his own money.
We found a place underneath a huge shady oak and plopped onto the ground. The moon was bright and the wind gave a quiet howls.
Tom sighed and leaned against the tree.
Before I could even ask, Tom launched into his story.
"They were drunk as shit again," he whispered, "they had gone to see their lawyers about the divorce. Then they came back hours later then when they were supposed too. I heard the door open and I heard the screaming at each other. I was in my room with the door locked. Then I heard pounding coming up the stairs and I knew he was coming for me."
He paused. Then sighed again.
"My dad smashed the handle with something and guested into my room. He leaped onto my and holding out an empty beer bottle, was about to hit me in the head. Then, I actually fought back. He had me up against a wall so I kicked my foot up, hitting him in his balls and he fell over grunting. Then I grabbed my "get-out" bag, hopped out of my window, and came to you."
He looked up at the branches far above us.
If you had parents like Tom's you would probably run away and tell someone. But the thing is, our little town had by far the worst police enforcement ever. They were so lazy and laid back. The only time they leave their office is to go home or if someone had been killed or murdered. The last major crime in East Bay was in 1995. Some old man killed his wife for the insurance money. He ended up being found guilty and put into prison. East Bay is a quiet little town. That's why no one believes in police officers anymore.
I broke out of my thought and looked down at my watch.
4:23.
"I need to go home," I said as I stood up.
"Ok you go ahead," Tom said not moving, "I'm gonna stay here for a little while."
"Ok, well, talk to yah later today?" I asked.
"Definitely." He said then looked at me and smiled.
"Bye," I turned and walked back from where we came from

Tom was falling apart, but by bit. I thought I could save him.
I thought.