Thirteen-years-old, Connor Wolfhard, a considerate and magnanimous teen, trying to cope with the enslaved power of a merciless creature. With the abidance of detest, deep-rooted for his contentious mother, and intricate in an explosive concocted sto...
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T H I B B A U L T
Six hours.
My eyes were locked on the wall in solemn, withholding to give a blink. The ticking sound of the clock could be heard clearly in the room since it was as silent as a grave. For the past few hours, I was sitting down on the mattress, holding a stagnant mind and indicating a pensive mood.
I put my head back to the wall, closing my eyes momentarily, but the pounding headache has only intensified and my body wasn't in a state of functioning the way it usually does.
I never retain so glumly and humorless. No matter what the complicated circumstance, I got myself entangled, I have always culminated, by hook or by crook but this situation was something else.
My brother is kidnapped. I couldn't bear that terrific feeling.
Connor. He is guileless and unworldly.
Despite hardly a few hours, this is what our condition is undergoing. Everything feels so grim. Even the oxygen feels hard to inhale on just remembering about him. I could feel my knuckles clenched whenever a picture of that person is formed in my mind, the one to kidnap him.
My brother has become a victim of the unpleasant situation that took place several years ago.
Just at the thought, the intense sentiment has been sustaining me through the hours since I have been known for his absence.
Robin is not a fine person. He is the younger brother of a serial killer. He will get his revenge at all costs. Connor is under the attention of him.
The guilt, remorse, sorrow, or whatever you can think of at the moment, was killing me all inside. What I had done cannot be un-do now. I should have gone myself and picked him up from school. I shouldn't have left him in anybody's responsibility.
After all, I'm the oldest one here. It was my responsibility to ensure he reaches safe and sound from school to home and it could have only been when I had refused to share my work with anybody else.
A soft knock on the door aimed to draw me away from my thoughts. I remained still as I was a statue, no attempt was made by me to make any response. The door creaked when it was opened, exposing Emma inside the room.
"Dinner is ready. You can come downstairs." She informed me politely.
"Ask Elliot. I'm not in a mood to eat." I whispered.
"You both didn't even do your lunch." While her manner was gentle, she tried to convince me. "Punishing yourself wouldn't unravel anything." Nonetheless, it didn't lessen my grief.
"Just go." I closed my eyes in anguish. "Please."
The door was shut back and I was all alone, again. In a brief period, I forced myself to stand up and wandered around the room in silence. Opening the drawer, I pulled out the pair of headache painkillers, Aspirin. I clasped it when I decided to walk out of the room to have some water.
