Iceheart

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Guest

The day seemed to blow by Jason. He went to his classes, ate lunch, talked to Maxwell and Jenny, avoided Jaxon and his goons; you know, a standard day. As Jason boarded the bus, he thought. How would he not get noticed by his father if he was awake? Jason deliberated, making plan after plan in his head. None of them would work. So, Jason had to go with his normal strategy. Hope and pray his dad was asleep, and if not, run for his room to delay the abuse.

Jason slowly creaked open the door. The TV was blaring. Jason listened carefully. No snoring. He tiptoed towards his room.

"Jason?" a voice yelled, slurred. "That you?"

Oh boy, Jason thought. His dad was drunk. Again.

"Jason!" the voice yelled again. "Get in here or I will throw the couch at you!"

Jason groaned silently. Oh please, God, Jason thought. Help me not get mauled by the wild beast that I call my dad.

Jason cautiously stepped into the room. "Yeah, Dad?" he said.

"What were you doing, slinking around?" his father slurred. "You ain't in trouble, are ya?"

"Um, no sir," Jason said. "I need to head to my room. I have a lot of homework."

Jason's father looked his son in the eyes. His eyes showed no love and no care. Only hatred and anger.

"Go," he said, his breath brushing into Jason's face. Jason coughed from the stench of alcohol. "But you better not be lying to me, boy. Because I will find out if you are."

Jason laughed nervously and backed away. "Don't worry, Dad," he said. "You just relax. I'll see you later."

Jason backed into his room. He sighed and slid down the wall. He took off his shirt and checked the gash. The bleeding had stopped. He went into the bathroom and grabbed the hydrogen peroxide. He poured some on his shirt. The blood dissolved into merely a brown stain. He sighed in relief and walked back to his room.

Jason slipped on a new t-shirt and sat on his bed. He opened up his backpack and pulled out a textbook. English.

"Well," Jason sighed, "guess I'm starting with this."

Jason sat down and opened his book. "The Effects of Dependent/Independent Clauses on Short Stories," he groaned. What a boring subject. Reluctantly, he began to work, until the pile of books went down and down. Jason sat up. It was an hour after he had started. Jason sat up and stretched. "That's done," he said.

Jason walked into the kitchen and grabbed a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese. He poured in the ingredients and sat down. He would have to stir it. "Bon appetit," he grumbled.

As Jason poured the Mac and cheese into two bowls, he sighed. He brought the food into the living room, where his father sat, asleep. Jason set down the bowl on the table and tapped his dad.

"Dad?" he said. "Wake up! It's time to eat!'

Jason's father opened his eyes. "Wha?" he said. He'd come out of his drunk state. "Oh, um, thank you." He sat up and dusted himself off.

Jason nodded and headed back to his room. He ate his Mac and Cheese with a fork. He opened his laptop and sighed. "I wonder how we'll be able to keep this up," he said. "Especially if Dad gets drunk and loses his job."

Jason sighed and looked at the time. 7:30. He sighed. "Why must days last so long?" Jason said, flopping on his bed. Jason's eyes slowly shut. He drifted off to sleep. As he did, he felt a strange feeling in his body. One he'd never felt before.

.............................

Jason slowly opened his eyes. He was in a forest. "That's weird," Jason said. "This never happened before. It's always snowy. It feels... humid."