Catboy

20: lawrence

Lawrence woke up to the sound of the world crashing down.

Well, to be more specific, something had crashed in the kitchen. He sat upright, leaning over to his bedside table and grabbing his hearing aids out of their container. It took a moment for him to get them in, but it was better than him having to rely on feeling the vibrations of sound through the floor.

He could hear persistent bumps, as if someone was running up against the cabinets. He paused, waiting for confirmation that it was indeed a person- they'd had birds fly in before, thanks to Julian's habit of leaving the windows open. Dimly, Lawrence hoped that that was all it was.

No such luck. He could hear the slaps of feet against the tiled floor. Fuck. He tensed, then leant over the side of his bed and found his baseball bat, comforted by the familiar weight in his hand. It wasn't like he had ever used it to hurt anyone- but if he had to start now, it would be in self-defence. Somehow, the thought was almost calming. He managed to get up, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The noises were growing louder as he crept over to the entrance to his room. Gently, he pushed the door open, wincing at the creak it made. He slipped through it slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had broken in without alerting them to his presence.

The first thing he noticed was that the kitchen light was on, illuminating the hallway. His mind immediately flooded with confusion. If it was a burglar, they wouldn't turn the light on, right? He took a deep breath, raised his bat up high, and pressed on. The noises kept on getting louder, more persistent. They were closer together, the crashes resounding just next to each other. It was almost as if someone was lurching back and forth, slamming into the kitchen cabinets. Lawrence took another step forward, his hands shaking.

He stepped into the kitchen, his breath hitched, and immediately realised he was unprepared for what was happening.

Lloyd was in the kitchen, his steps slow and mincing, barely holding himself up. Lawrence watched, eyes wide, as he crashed forward and slid into the kitchen bench, which was covered in pots and pans. Even though he was obviously winded, he pushed himself back up, his breath coming out in short pants as he turned toward the cupboards. It almost seemed as if he was looking for something. No, Lawrence thought, and his stomach began to churn. No. Reflexively, he turned his head away.

He heard the crunch of a body slamming against the wood of the cabinets, and he gasped as if he was the one that was being winded. "Stop!" he yelled, but he couldn't make himself move. He was stuck in a loop, watching Lloyd stumble and fall. "Stop!"

Then, all of a sudden, he was running. His hands reached out for Lloyd's shoulders, grabbing at him, trying to steady him. Trying to reach him.

It was no use; Lawrence could tell almost immediately.

Lloyd's one functioning eye was blank with confusion, clouded over with whatever had somehow possessed him. It was scary, yes- but it was nothing compared to the other eye.

The tree was dying.

Before, it had at least had a few little leaves, a touch of greenery. It had always been strong; not like this. Never like this. Lawrence reached out to touch it.

The bark crumbled between his fingers.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was stepping backwards; and then he was sprinting, one hand clasped over his mouth as he choked back sobs.

It only took him a second to get to Julian's room. He flung the door open without knocking. "Get up, get up, get up!" He could see Julian's alarm clock shining in the darkness- dimly, he realised that it was just past 3 a.m.