Information

148 10 0
                                    

It never left his mind, it kept coming back, all his thoughts that had nothing to with what happened yesterday all ended up somehow in the same place, the figure. The look of it, so familiar yet unrecognizable.The sight sparked up the memories of the night his father was killed, ringing a bell in a place of pain. All outcomes pointed to the relieving yet horrifying possibility that the same figure had been the one who murdered his father. One side screaming at him to give them what they deserved and the other one calming down its out of control storm that begged to know who they were after all these years. 

Thoughts went static, flashing in and out of the night of then and yesterday, mind struggling to keep up with what went on inside, horrible feelings churning up within him. Hands gripped at his head and closed his eyes with all of his force, trying to push them away. Roger, don't you move away from there! Gunshot. No..stop it. The shooter's dim glow in their eyes, staring down into the soul they had shattered right then and there. It wouldn't ever leave his scarred self, never. The trail of blood streaked across the white snow, leading back to Roger's feet, looking over at the dead body that lay lifeless on the ground. No! Everything came to a sudden stop, clear of any thoughts and being left with a blank mind in the pure silence that filled him and the place around him. Hesitating to do so, eyes opened with doubt and once the sense of calmness and that he could trust that he was alright settled in, he faced the sight that awaited him. Nothing out of the ordinary, good. The urge sparked up again, and that was when he knew today was going to be the day he was going to take matters into his own hands to get the answers he wanted. Walking outside the bookstore, he was ready to go find them.

"Hey, Rog!"

The voice caught him off guard and coming to his senses last minute, it was too late. The ice underneath him gave way and he had a mini heart attack as his legs gave way. One moment he was walking over to get his answers and the next he was fallen on the ground, laying there. Struggling to get up, the sharp pain in his head brought him back down to where he started. From a distance, the panicked voice of Brian rang in his ears.

"Oh god..."

Going up to where Roger was, he reached his side, whimpers leaving him with every moment with the pain that he was in. He grabbed ahold of him, helping him back up to his feet again, trying not to hurt him any further.

"Are you okay?" he asked him as he rubbed along his sore head.

"Yeah..." he groaned out.

Standing there in the silence with Brian still holding onto him, it was broken when they looked one another in the eyes, bursting out into laughter. He couldn't take it anymore, it was too funny of a situation to not at least have a nice laugh about it.

"Here, Let's get you inside," Brian guided him back into the bookshop, struggling to do so still laughing. Making their way inside, Roger took a seat while Brian went over to the back. Confused as to what went on, doubts came to a stop at Brian coming back with an ice pack in hand.

"I'm fine, really, Brian."

"Nope, you slipped on the ice and hit your head kind of hard, so no skipping out on the good old fashioned healer, ice."

He went over to him, holding the pack out.

"Do you mind if I—"

Roger shook his head.

"All right,"

Taking a seat next to him, he looked over at Roger in the eyes, his gentle gaze easing the storm going on inside of him. His eyes giving him the message that he could trust him, a sense of safety filling him. He loved the feeling, it made him feel safe and Brian was the only one who had ever done that to him. His worries going away, he scooted in closer, Brian's soft breath brushing up against his face as he placed the ice pack on his head, holding it there. Roger didn't want for him to go through that and took over for him. 

Within the Mist- MaylorWhere stories live. Discover now