I'm Sorry (Not Really)

Chapter Three

   

The lovers are puppets

To the master of the strings.

Cut free?

~A. F.

       It's been a few days since I was first given a new room, and this morning is the first morning of school. The only times I've been let out of my room were with my mother and or sister. I haven't seen anything from my father, not that I want to. It's around 7 in the morning right now, I was told to be ready by 7:30 but I'm already ready now. I don't know how I'm supposed to get to school, but I guess we'll see.

          I don't plan on listening to what my parents said about 'laying low', oh no, I'm going to become the most popular kid in school. I'm going to have all the power, I'm going to run that school. I smirked to myself slightly, standing in front of the mirror, I'm not necessarily the most handsome person out there, but I'm not ugly either. My dark brown hair in combination with my darker skin tone and light grey eyes creates an odd contrast that people find interesting. If I use my looks and charisma, it shouldn't be too hard to climb the social ladder.

          There was a knock on my door and my mother's voice could be heard from the other side, "Thomas, are you ready?" I didn't bother responding and instead only opened the door, "Oh! Good, we can take you to school early then." She clapped her hands together and smiled, annoyingly peachy for so early in the morning. I gave her a sweet smile and nodded, following her as she went downstairs.

          Once we got downstairs she took me to the kitchen and handed me a prefixed plate of food, "Now, eat that and I'll give you your bag. Remember, don't get into any trouble and lay low." She lightly patted my head as she left the room, I assume to get my bag. I ate fairly quickly and pulled out my new phone, my mother had said it was to be used only to contact her, my father, or Taylor. But I don't plan on following that rule very well, I need to have contacts from school, people I can call or text for whatever I desire. Of course, this requires me getting used to a cellphone and such, luckily during my time spent locked in the basement I've had plenty of time to read about and research whatever I like, all I had to do was send a note saying that it was needed for my studies. Which technically was true, it was just personal studies.

          I heard footsteps approaching, they weren't my mothers, no, they're heavier, but not as heavy as my fathers which means it's Taylor. I looked up as she entered and started to slip the phone back in my pocket but Taylor just smiled and put one finger up to her mouth while winking, silently telling me she'd keep a secret. I grinned like the Cheshire cat, perhaps Taylor could be useful, even though she's young.

          My mother's voice rang from the hallway as she approached, causing me to put the phone away anyway, "Taylor! Thank goodness you're up, it's time to go. It's too late for you to eat I'm afraid." My mother took my empty plate from me and set it in the sink, a bag hooked on her arm as she did.

          At our mother's words, Taylor looked crestfallen, "Mooom, are you sure?" She whined, drawing out the word 'mom'. I saw our mother roll her eyes as she passed me my bag and started out the back door to the garage, Taylor followed still whining and I followed behind the two of them. As soon as we were outside I took a deep breath of the air, it smelled crisp and wonderful. I always feel as if I can breath better outside, being outside also helps me think, it's just so freeing. Though I guess that's what you can expect from someone who wasn't allowed outside for four years.

          I got in the backseat because Taylor called shotgun. Mother started driving and as soon as she did I noticed her hands tense and her breath caught slightly as she began to speak, "Thomas... to avoid... Uhm, unpleasant encounters..." She kept trailing off as she spoke. Taking forever to get to the point, "your father and I have decided to use the cover that you're a foster child we are taking care of for the time being to explain why no one has ever seen or heard of you before." She rushed out all in one breath.

          I looked down in my lap, this could hurt my reputation while trying to climb the social ladder... Unless... maybe... I could make this work.

          Taylor was stiff as a board now, her lips pursed, she didn't like this, "Why couldn't you have just said he was from out of town? Or a distant relative who came to visit?" Taylor pestered.

          "Because-"

          Before my mother could even get another word out Taylor cut her off, "Because you wanted your status to go up? And saying you're a foster parent is a good way to earn brownie points?!" The words were spoken with such venom it was hard to believe this was the same laid back girl I had grown so used to. The more I see of her the more I'm starting to think she could be much more useful than originally anticipated.

          My mother flinched at her words and I decided to speak up, "It's okay Taylor... they've already told people and probably the school so there's no point in arguing with it now.." I decided to play the defeated and hurt son. This seemed to be the right choice because my mother sniffed and when I looked up she had tears streaming down her face. I saw Taylor soften considerably and reach into the glove box, pulling out tissues.

          "Oh mom, don't cry... look, I'm sorry," Taylor caved in and handed our mother a tissue or two. Maybe Taylor couldn't be trusted as much as I thought earlier, she has a conscience and can be easily guilted it seems. I watched as mother used one hand to drive and the other to dab at her tears, her makeup didn't look at all affected.

          Damn, that's some strong shit she's using for it to not even run or smear at all.