Connor walks into his empty house, tears rolling down his cheeks soundlessly. How could he have been so stupid! He freaked out. though he was so ready to let Brad in he still couldn't get over his anxiety.
"Your such an idiot!" He screams at himself as he runs up stairs to his bedroom, falling onto his bed. By this point he had started sobbing loudly, muffled by the pillow he had buried his face into. He was going off the rails again.
**flashback
"M-mom w-what are you d-doing?" thirteen year old Connor stammers, walking into the living room. His mother was standing in the centre of the room, her eyes closed. They fluttered open when she hears Connors voice.
"M-mom" Connor looked at his mother who held a gun to her head, the barrel pressed firmly to her temple. Tears were forming in her eyes at the sight of her son. What are you doing, the boys not worth it. A voice in her head scolds her and she ignores the desperate boy.
"N-no y-you can't! M-mom" Connor screams as the sound of a gun shot echoes through the house. He runs over to her limp body which was now on the floor. The small blonde boy ignores the pool of blood falling to his moms side.
"Mom" he screams again his dad running in now. His jaw drops at the sight of his wife and the Crimson liquid coming from her head.
"Connor!" He calls to his son who was balling over his mothers body "Connor!" his voice is barley audial over Cons sobbing
"S-she's gone!"
***flashback over
After the incident, Connor had spent a year in a insane asylum, and two more in therapy. Every once and awhile he'd run off the rails but his dad had always been their to pull him back on his feet. His mom had been crazy. She was never mentally okay and no one had seemed to take notice to her insanity. Connor had always guessed that's where his slight craziness has come from.
Now he sat on his bed crying, and shaking like crazy. The only thing he could think of was Brad. What was he going to tell him? Was he even going to speak to Connor? Maybe this was just part of a cruel joke Brad was playing. At this point the thought of Brad almost drove him mad with emotions.
Your sane. Your sane. Your sane. He repeated the words in his head over and over again until he started to mutter them to himself silently.
He lay there muttering for what seemed like hours-But in reality was only half and hour- until he had fallen asleep curled in a ball.
