✔ CHURCH BOYS ⇢ MCHARRISON/LENNSTARR

FIVE

George's POV

Later that night, all night, I was sitting by the piano.

"What are you doing, George?" My mother asks.

"I'm just learning this song from choir, mummy."

"Alright, do you want me to be here with you? You know you get scared at night."

"No, no, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure, honey?"

"Yes, mother."

Then she left. For about two hours, I sang and played piano. I learned all five songs in about an hour, and spent the other playing my own songs that I wrote. If sleepless nights have done anything for me, they've improved my musical ability. Whenever I woke up at 2 am with a nightmare I would just go downstairs and play softly on the piano until I fell asleep right there on the piano bench. Now, I could play music by all the great composers. Mostly Mozart. He's my favorite composer.

I was snapped out of my thoughts of mozart by a loud crack at the other end of the room. I jump, recalling memories shrouded in fear. The creaks that often came from behind me. Then he came, and he did awful things. He told me not to tell my mother, and I didn't. Until I did.

My heart races and my head spins. I curl up into a ball and rocked myself back and forth. I remained there, for the rest of the night. When my mother came downstairs she knew what had happened.

"George, are you alright?" She asked, taking me into her arms.

"I'm just fine now, mummy."

"I told you, I told you a thousand times over."

"I know, but I just had to learn the songs. Then a little noise scared me, it's not the end of the world, ma."

"Did you think about...him again?"

I nod, silent. She pulls me, gently, to my feet and smiles,

"Well, it's alright now, Georgie. You're fine." He smile fades a bit, "We got him arrested, he's not coming for you."

"What if- What if he does? Then, what can you and dad do? He'd kill me before you could do anything." I broke down into tears.

Now her smile is completely gone,

"I will never let him hurt you ever again. That's a promise I made to you a long time ago, and one I intend to keep. And, if we ever see him again, I will kill him. I will kill him before he can move a muscle."

"Wow, thanks mom. Wait, but what would you kill him with." Fear hits me like a piano, "DO WE HAVE GUNS?!"

She laughs,

"No, and don't worry. We'll work out the details later."

She ruffles my hair and heads downstairs to make pancakes, three, exactly. She places the knife with the pointy side facing the plate so I do not accidentally injure myself and the fork on the opposite side, slightly tilted to the left, just slightly.

It's obscure. It's fun. It brightens my day up that much more. It's ridiculous and that's just why I love it. I head downstairs and my mom spots me, she checks the silverware once more and quickly adjusts the fork.

"Thank you." I smile, my bad feelings disappearing.

"Why do you like it so much when I tilt the fork like that. So much so, that you make me adjust the fork like that every day?"

"It's my little bit of madness. It's crazy! It's awesome! Live on the wild side! WAHOO!"

"Georgie, calm down, you'll give yourself a nose bleed. Wild man."

I laugh. It's been a long since I've last laughed.

"Wow, George. It's been a while since I've heard you laugh."

What did I tell you?

"Yeah...I guess it has been. I haven't laughed a lot since...well, since it happened."

"I know Georgie, I know. I know how it changed you. It changed all of us. But, in the end, it changed us for the better."

"How so?" I ask.

"It made us more alert, now we are much safer. Well, actually, now that I think about it, it helped me and your father. You, not really."

"Gee, thanks mom."

"Well, it made you more alert and aware. Green doors are ugly anyway."

"They are. I mean, make it white or grey or red even. Red doors are cool. But green, no."

My mother laughed, I tried to push away the memories but they remained. I couldn't get them out of my head. I began to sweat. My mother plopped a few pancakes on my plate, but I didn't touch them. I couldn't move. I shuddered and pulled my legs up to my chest.

"Did you...think about it again, George?" She asks me, kissing the top of my head.

I nod.

"Georgie...you need to forget. Or at least, you need to try. No matter how bad it was, you can't let it haunt you for the rest of your life."

"I can't, it's just too traumatic to be forgotten." I sigh.

"Please try, it kills me when I see you this worried. And I know that it's just a result of the trauma, but I know that you can forget and be happy again. I miss seeing you happy and laid back."

"I do, too. I miss the way things used to be. But, you know that I had no choice."

"I know." She puts a hand on my shoulder and sighs.

"I finished my pancakes by the way."

"Wait, you were eating this entire time?"

"...No?"

She laughs and kisses the top of my head and takes my plate,

"Hey, George, shouldn't you get ready for school?"

"Alright."

I head upstairs and slip on dress pants and a white button down shirt, as always. I slip on socks and head downstairs. I grab my knapsack, slip on my shoes and head out the door. All day long at school, I was thinking about Paul. No one had ever been so nice to me before. No one had ever talked so softly and kindly. No one had ever seemed to care so much about me. And he...he was perfect. Just perfect.

What am I saying?