Bellman Tower

Chapter 11

Recap:

He crouches down until his face is inches away from mine, "Look and feel the pain."

His eyes meet mine and then I'm falling...

Chapter 11

"Trevor, we didn't expect this from you at all. I never thought I'd see you in such a state! What will the village say? That my son came home in an intoxicated state?! You've made a mockery of us, Trevor!"

I stare up into mum's eyes, anger flaring up in my chest, "Well, it is my birthday! I'm allowed a treat. So what if I drank a little too much? It happens."

"Trevor!" Dad's voice booms, "You do not speak to your parents like that, ever! Have we raised you to see this day?"

"I don't know. You're the ones who decided to have me, not the other way round!" I screech indignantly. It must be the drink talking; I would never dare to speak to my parents like this in normal circumstances. I was raised to be better. "Trevor!" Tears prick mum's eyes, "You know how hard we tried to get you. It's your birthday, please don't be like this, Trevor."

"No!" Dad says sternly, "You are not the one who should be apologising, Delilah! The one who made the mistake should be tthe one to express his shamefulness. Well, Trevor?"

"I do not have anything to apologise for." I lift my head up with pride, refusing to admit my mistake. I am fourteen now, they have to learn not to keep me on a leash. I need my freedom, I need to get used to my drinking habits!

"Trevor, what you feel does not count. You will apologise for the shame you have brought upon this family!!" Dad roars at me, his fists clenched by his side.

"Dad, I don't have to apologise. I don't have to do anything you say! I am my own person, I don't need you telling me what's right and what's not!" Dad clenches his jaw, looking down on me like I am but dog waste under his foot.

Mum gasps, "Trevor! Why are you acting so disrespectful? Drink is an evil thing. Look what it's done to you, my son."

"No, Mum." I shake my head, "The drink has not done anything to me. You have this to your son! You insist on keeping me on a leash like I am some sort of dog! No, Mother, I am your son and I need my freedom to drink."

"You have to earn freedom, not demand it." Dad snaps, "Right now, you do not deserve an ounce of freedom. Go to your room. I have never been so disappointed in you, Trevor McLane."

I glare at Dad defiantly for a moment and then trudge up the staircases to my room in the attics. I go over to my bed and sit down. Then I look toward the window. I go over and open the window to let the air in.

I gaze down at the sprawling garden lane. How would it feel to fly through air? To feel wind in my hair as I glide down to the ground, my feet landing gracefully on the soft grass? To soar through the sky without a care in the world?

Before I know it, I am standing on the window sill, my eyes closed in breezy bliss. But this is not enough. With a lazy smile spread across my face, I step forward into the nothingness. For a moment, there's nothing but me and the air rushing past me, whistling in my ear.

But then I start to drop. I open my eyes and look down. I'm going too fast. I can't stop. I somersault in the air, unable to control my position. The ground is getting closer and I flail around in the air, trying to grab onto something to block my fall.

But there's nothing to hold on to. The ground is much too near and now logic is filling into my head. What are the chances of my survival? My heart lurches with panic. Oh no! "Aaarrgghh!" I screech as I hit the ground and then --