Are We Alone?

Way Back When

TW: fighting, rejection, hateful parents, running away

"Honey, his eyes are showing again," a man in a dress shirt and tie called from reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee. The coffee steamed, curling in the air.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it," a woman with brown hair in tight curls muttered angrily, "Virgil. Come."

Virgil looked at his mother with wide eyes. He was fourteen now. He had been for a week. No one celebrated.

Not even him.

"Yes, Mother," he whispered obediently as he crossed the room in his worn chucks. They squeaked against the polished kitchen floor.

He could see Thomas peek around the kitchen door with bright brown eyes. Curious eyes.

Scared eyes.

"Oh, Virgil, Why can't you be normal? Do you see Thomas? His eyes are a beautiful caramel, why can't you mimic that?" His mother uttered bitterly.

Virgil fully looked at Thomas and his eyes that resembled rich dirt. He smiled meekly at his seven year-old brother.

"I'm sorry, Mother." Virgil looked at her, focused and changed his eyes to brown. She smirked, proud of herself for whatever reason.

"Better."

Virgil looked down at his worn chucks as his mother returned to the dishes. Then he looked at Thomas, dresses nicely for school. He compared his clothes to Thomas'. He really didn't mind his barely-together jacket.

He had learned to sew at an early age.

"Why are you still looming here? Get ready for school," his mother tutted, shooting him towards the door.

He walked out of the kitchen, grabbing his book bag for school. Thomas stared shyly, reaching towards his brother.

Virgil looked at him, opening his arms for Thomas. "Are you all right, V?"

Virgil nodded slowly. "I'm all right, Thomas."

"Am I making it better?"

Virgil smiled, weak tears falling down his face, falling onto Thomas' nice collard shirt. "You always do."

Virgil let go of Thomas, looking into his brown eyes, searching for the small specks of green in them. Thomas smiled, his front tooth missing.

"I like your purple eyes, V!" Thomas whispered loudly into Virgil's ear. "They remind me of purple popsicles."

Virgil giggled a little and kissed Thomas' forehead. "Thanks, Thomas."

"Let's go," Virgil's father said, yanking Thomas away from his 'strange' brother. "Time for school."

Virgil followed them to the car, sitting in the backseat while Thomas sat in the front.

They'd do anything to stay away from Virgil. No matter how dangerous.

Virgil tapped his fingers against his leg. He didn't want to spend another day at school. He always felt like he was slowly losing his mind, like the world was slowly unraveling him.

Mr. Sanders pulled in front of the middle school. "Out," was all he muttered disgustingly, not even bothering to spare Virgil a glance.

Virgil slipped out the car, his chucks padding across the sidewalk to the middle school. His heart beat faster and faster with every step.