The Veil

Chapter Sixty-Six

It was Tom. 

He looked young, maybe thirteen or fourteen but it was Tom. 

His blonde hair was just as shaggy as it was in the present, his eyes still the same, wonderfully green and beautiful. He was wearing a long sleeved tee under a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans slightly too big for him. He looked so small and innocent.

With a sudden squeeze of my heart I realised what I was seeing, Tom's past, whoever gave me the ability to see ghosts was showing me this, just like Lindsay used to show me memories with my parents. 

It seemed like it was going to be as upsetting as my own dreams, maybe worse. 

I got some happy with my parents before they turned bad, Lindsay trying to make me go home to get closure, to see who had killed them.

This was different though, this seemed bad from the start, I could feel young Tom's panic, his worry and his internal pain. It made me jittery and panicked in a way I'd not felt before, especially not in my own dreams and not when I was awake. 

From what little I knew about Tom's dad, his childhood, I didn't want to see this. I didn't want to see Tom scared and alone. 

I tried to walk towards the front door to get out but as Tom walked to the kitchen I got pulled that way, like I had a rope attached to my stomach and the other end was attached to Tom.

I gasped at the feeling and my heart rate picked up even more.

I was forced to sit down in the seat across from Tom's dad, who was looking down at the table, wobbling in his seat.

"What do you want?" Young Tom asked, his voice so soft and small.

"Whatever." his dad replied not looking up.

I could tell Tom repressed a sigh and grabbed a frying pan from a cupboard, turned the flame on the grill and put some oil in the pan, he grabbed ingredients while the oil heated up. 

I started to panic, what was going to happen? Why couldn't I wake up?

I stopped paying attention to what Tom was going and started watching his father, watching for signs that he was going to explode.

"You not going to ask how my night was boy?" He grunted, his weathered face an angry scowl.

"Same as usual I expect." Tom replied. 

I held my breathe, I'd never been around an abusive alcoholic, I didn't know what would set him off, or even if he would in this dream, or could this just be a calm night, just a warning from whoever seemed to control my life, did I need to push Tom to see his dad when I woke up, before it was too late to see him again? 

"Don't get sarcastic with me you little shit. Just like your mother." He growled, Tom didn't turn to look at him as his dad looked up at the back of his head, from my angle though I could see the worry on his face, I could feel the gut wrenching fear he was feeling and it was hurtful. 

"Sorry." Young Tom gulped, he was close to tears. 

"So ask me how my night was then." His dad growled again. 

I started to shake, Tom's fear teamed with my own was too much, I could barely breathe. 

"H-how was your night?" Young Tom stuttered, turning the heat down slightly, lifting the edge of what looked liked a grilled cheese to check the underside.