Regrets

Chapter 18 - The Fear

Song: The Fear - The Score

Marcus didn't return from work that night, and not the following day either.

Thomas felt lonely and unsure. Why wouldn't he come back already? Was there a problem?

The fridge was raided empty by now and there was no money in the house. He would be back to starving and stealing if Marcus wouldn't be back soon. Well, according to Marcus, that was what he was supposed to do anyway, wasn't he? He basically had stolen from Marcus by emptying the refrigerator like that.

He didn't know if Marcus meant to stay away, if having Thomas around was too much for Marcus and he had just decided to leave, but he didn't want to believe that.

But Marcus hadn't cared all that much about the boy's feelings before, so why would he bother to lie? No, Marcus was honest with him.

Doubt began settling in Thomas' mind, like an infection that spread slowly and tediously. A brain tumour of a mental origin.

His head flopped onto the kitchen table with a loud bang. He instantly sat up straight again, rubbing the aching spot tenderly.

"Oww... that was stupid", he mumbled to himself as he got up. His feet carried him to the bathroom, where he looked into the dirty, blotchy mirror. His hand moved to rub over the small cut on his forehead to see if it was split open yet again. Luckily for him, it wasn't. Not that it would've made his situation any better or worse at this point, but he was glad either way.

By now, Thomas knew every inch of the apartment due to having spent a fair amount of days locking himself up in it, only having gone outside when he felt hungry. Now that he was living with Marcus, he had realised how insecure he felt in the outside world. He had spent most of his life cooped up in his room, more or less of his own accord, so everything was a new experience for him right now. The boy began wondering if he had made a mistake by running away, but each memory of 'home' reminded him why he didn't want to be there. Anywhere but there. And he wouldn't be thinking of home at all if not for that one person.

The phone began ringing. It had been ringing quite often yesterday, but this was the first time today, even though it was already late afternoon.

Thomas walked back to the kitchen and picked it up, as he had done many times the day before. Yesterday, an angry woman had called about twenty times or so, asking for Marcus and that he needed to come to work, and she was the only one that had called. Each time, Thomas had told her that Marcus wasn't home, and hung up, not awaiting the response. She would surely ask something like "Who are you?" and Thomas really didn't know how to answer that satisfyingly.

Before Thomas could even utter a word into the speaker, only a beeping noise could be heard from the other line. He had been hung up on.

Frustrated, Thomas slammed the receiver down, causing the phone slide over the kitchen counter due to the sheer force.

The phone started ringing again, but when Thomas, already quite annoyed by the previous experience, picked up this time, the other line didn't hang up on him.

"Hey Thomas"

Thomas eyes widened. He knew that voice.

"Marcus! Where are you?!", he exclaimed gleefully, unable to contain the pure relief he felt from hearing the man's voice.

"Listen, Thomas. I have two minutes. I'm stuck here, got remanded in custody. I dunno for what, yet, but I can imagine. Either way, you should stay put if you don't wanna go back. I know it sucks but it would be best if you did what I tell you now", Marcus began talking, as if he was reciting a text he had rehearsed so much that he knew it by heart.

"What? Custody?! Marcus, I don't understand", Thomas whined helplessly. He was at a loss of what to do. The news hit him like a train wreck.

"Thomas, I can't tell you much. Police might come to my apartment. Don't open, they don't have a warrant. I don't want them sniffing around. I have some money stashed in the freezer, you should defrost it first though. Call Michael, if you remember his number. He's a lawyer. Would help me out a bunch. Also, treat your wounds. I know it'll hurt, but you need to pull the threads, otherwise they'll grow into your skin. And bandage them tightly afterwards, yeah? There's clean bandages in the first aid kit under the sink. If you can't do it, go to a hospital. I don't know what you're going through, but it can't be worse than sepsis and infection", Marcus sounded hasty, vague and, if Thomas were to guess, even worried.

"What happened? Why are you in custody?", Thomas was scared. He had to know what was going on. He needed to understand.

"Sorry Tom, I-", the call cut off. Thomas began shouting frantic "Hello?"s into the speaker, not quite realizing yet the fact that the other line was only offering beeping noises as replies.

Marcus had been arrested.