CHOICES [The Pen Pal Program]

The First

Louis sits cross-legged on his bed, wearing the thickest  pair of  sweater he could find with a blanket draped over him. His eyes  are half  open, half closed, and he has trouble keeping them open.

The  clock on his nightstand reads 4:53 am. He wants to close his  eyes, he really does, sleep is one of the most important things to him and it seems so close right now, just an arm's length away. And yet he can't.

He knows that when he starts closing his eyes again, pictures of him start appearing again and he can't let himself do that. He just wants to forget him. He wants to forget it all.

Wants to forget his rough voice - keep quiet b***h, you are only making it harder for yourself -, his fingers - bruising fingers - and the feeling of him - thrust in, thrust out.

He slowly gets up and starts moving towards the door. He wants to be out of this room. It has too many memories - too many bad ones. He wishes he would never have to enter this room again.

His steps are slow and quiet, he doesn't want anyone to notice him. Especially one of his little siblings.

At  the age of 17, he is the oldest of the children and has to protect his four little siblings - Lottie, Fizzy and the twins Phoebe and Daisy. He has to be strong for them, to keep  them away  from him.

He knows that it is  going to be hard and he has to put up with lot in order to do so, but  his siblings are still his siblings and he  doesn't know anything or  anyone that matters more to him. They are his  world.

His  fingers have already grabbed the handle of the door, ready to turn it, when he suddenly hears someone coughing in the hallway. He  freezes and waits for it again. He is sure he it was his step dad:  Bill. The person  he wants to get away from the most.

He  waits some minutes until he hears the soft snoring of Bill right  next to  his room until he turns the handle and slips into the  hallway.He looks  around almost frantically, like he fears Bill will  eventually come out  of a corner and laugh at him while saying, "I  tricked you. Hahaha. You  stupid, stupid kid. Now go to your bed and  strip."

He  almost hears his voice talking to him and can feel the goosebumps rising on his skin. He quickly pulls the sweater closer to his body - desperately hoping to feel warmer, safer - and makes long steps with his feet touching the floor softly, like they are afraid they are going to break it if they are putting more pressure on it. Upon entering the kitchen which is one story below, he lets out a huge breath he didn't even know he was holding.

He already thought that it was  going to happen again. He isn't sure whether he would be able to survive it. It hurts so damn  much everytime and it doesn't stop, it never stops. Because sorrow and  suffering is something that is a part of  one's life, makes up most of  the room because it just costs so much  energy and feelings.

He has a glass full  of cold and soothing water in his hands and downs it within some  seconds. It really helps sometimes. He instantly feels better about everything, about himself.

He gladly fills it up again and sits down onto one of the stools to  relax himself  some more. His legs have stopped the little shaking they started some moments ago and finally, just for a little moment, he  feels safe in his skin again.

He looks out of the window and can see the dawn starting. It's a lovely view. How  everything still looks so sleepy, but the sun is coming  and waking all  up by his brightness and warmth. He never has anything found this  calming before.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps behind him. At first, he doesn't think anything of it, Phoebe  has always been a light sleeper, but the steps  are too heavy for it. And  before he can do anything else, maybe run or  hide, a hand grabs his  shoulder. He would have let his glass fall if it  hadn't stood on the table.