Tom's Tale | A Tomarry Fanfiction

Summer

1937

Tom was now ten years old. He had grown fast and was now doing everything the other orphan's were doing, he would walk, talk and do more than just sit in his room all day. However, he was certainly still odd and the other children certainly still didn't like him. Orphans came and went, some finding relatives to take them on and finally getting what it was like to have a family, some got adopted and some just like Carroll Nelsen got old enough to venture out into the world on her own.

Through the years she used Tom as her own way of coping with it all. She was angry about not having a family, angry that people had a better life than her and angry that Tom was so weird. He never cried or complained so it was all perfect. No one would suspect a thing and she could continue to use her punch bag as she pleased. Mrs.Cole noticed them spending longer than normal together but happily placed her finger on him just finding a friend finally. Little did she know the once innocent little boy had seen more pain than she would guess. Carroll never held back and had even riddled his young skin with small and insufficient scars. Tom didn't seem to care, he was emotionless and continued how he normally was. It was as if nothing changed in his life.

Although he couldn't help but be glad she was gone, a sense of relief washed over him yet didn't stick around for long. He went through many different obsessions, fixations if you will. Feeling that pain that burnt his skin everytime Carroll got them alone together had been one of those, his body ached to feel more, to see how much he could feel until he broke so when that left he was ultimately lost and had to find something else that occupied him. Something just as stimulating, something that would drag him deep into the depths of his mind with no way of getting out.

Tom was always reading, he read anything he got his hands on but had been doing that ever since he was little as that had been all he had to do. He didn't enjoy playing like any normal child, he saw it as pathetic and childish. He matured faster than any other child at that orphanage and learnt to read as early as three years old but became competent at such skill at only seven. As much as reading had become an important aspect of his life it wasn't enough, he needed to latch onto something far more stronger and exhilarating. Something out of the life he knew.

All hopes and dreams for him, he believed the world he lived in wasn't good enough, everyone was weak and boring. They didn't seek out power and knowledge. It was all too ordinary for him. That was until one evening just before his tenth birthday. He had run out of everything he could read at the orphanage and was stuck with just sitting in his room at his worn down desk. Tom was bored out of his mind and all his thoughts were revolving around getting a new book somehow.

Tom's mind was set on getting a book and going to the library but he wasn't to go out today. He asked Mrs.Cole but she told him not today so he was left thinking of nothing but the library while sat in his room, ignoring any torment he received from the other children as they walked past. As time passed that day, his thoughts were suddenly propelled through time.

It was unexpected, the feeling of being pulled through a straw at the same time as being on a really fast roller coaster. It was quicker than anything Tom had ever experienced and he felt immediately sick. When he opened his eyes he was no longer in the bricked up cell of wool's orphanage but was instead where he had wanted to go all day, the library. At first he didn't realise, his stomach churned and flipped and made him hunch over while gripping at his stomach. Everything seemed to spin and he felt unbelievably dizzy. Tom let himself fall to his knees as he waited for it all to slow again.

Once it did everything settled and he was hit with shock. No longer was it brick upon brick of boring nothing, instead, an infinite world of knowledge was now at his fingertips. Finally. Something out of the ordinary, something completely and utterly out of this world. It was this moment that he practiced and practiced to be able to do what he did again. He constantly focused on where to go as hard as he could and mainly did it only to the library and back. It was hard work and a few times he threw up. Especially when he worked on it far too quickly.