I lowered my head and pinched my eyes shut, desperately hoping that this situation wasn't real and that I was just in some kind of dream. I didn't like the fact that Lauren was standing behind me after she'd heard me ‘talking to myself,’ I also didn't want what happened between Adam and I to be true! It's too much for me to believe. The light, the pain, the fact that he called himself an Angel and messenger of... of God—all of it, it's just far too bizarre.

Who knows, maybe I got into a horrible accident and now I'm in a coma or something. Probably the medications they've been giving to  me, is the reason I'm having this... horrible dream. I hope that's the case because I just want to be able to wake up and forget about this unusual nightmare.

“Thomas, I'm talking to you,” she sighed, sounding calmed down, soft even. “Don't act like you can't hear me.” Curses! This is real; I'm not in a dream.

Her hand was probably on her hip in an ‘intimidating’ way like always, but whenever she did that, I never looked at it like that. It would just be funny to me whenever she did something to try to make herself seem bigger than me when we're having one of our frequent disagreements. One time that killed me, was when she stood up on one of our dining room chairs, trying to be at my eye level. She is a tiny thing but she can be feisty, I'll give her that much.

Also, what we were talking about wasn't even that serious. She just wanted me to eat with her on the table so we could have time to talk and bond with each other. Who the frick do I look like? That's never going to happen.

I inhaled sharply because as I tried to straighten myself out​, pain tugged at my nerves, forcing me to arch my back once more and rely on the sturdiness of the railing. Adam is going to pay for this! He better not have broken my back. As if it was happening right now, at this instant, I could feel the repeated blows to my back when I was slammed to the wall and then dropped onto the hard floor. My adrenaline rush ran out, so that's why, now, all I could feel was pain. I sure hope these aches and possible bruises and small cuts will go away tomorrow, along with my memory. That would be lovely.

She inhaled softly. “Are you okay?” when I didn't answer she continued, “Thomas, look at me, what's wrong? Why do you look like you're in pain?” I didn't bother to reply to her aggravating questions, because all I could think about was my appearance. I clenched onto the wood tightly, so tight that my knuckles most likely turned white. What if by the way I looked look, she would know that I've gotten beat up by somebody. Hopefully she won't think I've beaten up myself because there's no one else out here. She'd probably believe I've finally gone mad. “Thom...as?–”

“Do you see someone in the distance... with a white hoodie?” I asked, cutting her off, completely ignoring all her questions of concern. I couldn't see and I just wanted to be sure if Adam had left or not, because he could possibly still be here. Somewhere.

“W–what? Some...one out in the distance,” she trailed off for a moment, I guess, to see if anyone was out there. “No, I don't... why? What's going on? Is there something you're not telling me?” Her tone became more anxious with every word she spoke. I can already tell that her tired brown eyes must be widened with fear already. She was such a worry freak and I never really understood why. She has problems. “You're not on anything... are you?”

“What?” I asked offended, crinkling my face. Aggravation poked at me and felt as if there was a constant pins and needles sensation, crippling my neck. She really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. “You—you know what, Lauren, why would do you keep asking me that? You continue to ask that same question over and over even when I've asked you before to stop. You know I've been off Xanax for almost a year now, so can you please get off my back about it for a moment, only a moment? That's all I ask. Can you, though, because you're really getting on my nerves about that. It's like every two weeks or every frickin' month you're asking me about it and I'm tired of it Lauren, I really am.”

She sighed. “Thom–”

“I'm sick of it,” I spat angrily.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” Her voice faltered when she spoke and almost sounded teary-eyed but after Lauren cleared her throat, she quickly caught herself and strengthened her tone. “I wake up and the next thing I hear is your voice; and after wondering why you were outside I got up a looked out my window only to see and hear to talking to yourself like a wild man. Like, something's seriously wrong there, Thomas.”

“Please Lauren, and you don't?” I asked, scoffing at her, unimpressed. “You talk to yourself all the time, so don't even start with me.”

“Sure, if I'm like, uh, counting things or... or reviewing the plans I have for the day; but never have I ever had a full blown conversation with myself, like I saw you having not too long ago. That was just pure madness!” she said then a short moment of silence consumed us so much, that the chilling wind was all that was heard. “Who's... who's Adam anyway?—nevermind, just please would you get inside. It's really frosty out here. You don't want a cold now, do you?”

“You go inside. I'd rather freeze out here and die than to have you telling me what to do.”

“Ah, Thomas,” she sighed, as if having all the weight of the world placed on her shoulders. “What am I going to do with you? You're like this everyday with me and... and I don't know why. I have no idea. What wrong have I done to you? Huh? Tell me, what wrong have I done for you to treat me the way that you do?” Anger and determination was intertwined in her voice. I knew by the sound of her that she wasn't going to let this one go.

I released a long and heavy sight then cleared my throat. “You've done no wrong, Lauren,” I said then for some odd reason felt a very strong urge to cry; it was compelling, so much so that my head pounded and my throat ached as I tried my best to force the tears to stay back in there place. But they came out anyway. I quickly wiped my eyes and cheeks with the back of my hand before more could come out. “I'm just angry. That's all.” My voice was but a whisper.

“An...gry? Why are you—” she stopped mid-sentence and inhaled deeply. “Thomas, I'm... I'm just worried about​ you,” she said then silence fell between us. There was a light, cool breeze that brushed against me, tickling my already cold skin and whistled a song right into my ear. It felt good as the wind combed through my hair, it reminded me of the good days with my mum. When I would lay my small head on her warm lap, she used to gentle tousle my hair with her fingers as she softly sang lullabies to me until I fell asleep. I felt so comforted, so loved at that time. Sometimes I just wished that I could somehow go back to the good ol days. But sadly, I can't. “I'm worried about you because I–”

“There's an easy fix to that,” I said then cleared my throat again. “Just stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself anyways. I don't need anyone to baby me; especially you. Stop treating me like I'm some helpless child. You're not even my mother, so don't act like you are.”

“W–what?” A painful crack in her voice made it blatantly obvious to me that she was tearing up. “Do you—are you hearing yourself right now?” I already knew that her eyes grew wide with hurt. “I became your mother when I adopted you–”

I sighed loudly, cutting her off. “Please stop. I'm done talking to you,” I said seriously, completely fed up with this conversation, but there was still a touch of softness to my voice. I was tired. “Just... allow me to be able to go all the way up to my room in quiet. I can't take anymore noise right now.” When all I heard was a sniffle in reply, I took that as an ‘okay.’

I knew that it was going to be extremely complicated to maneuver around her, having a really bad ache in my back and without her spotting my blood and tear crusted eyes; just finding my way to the stairs might itself by a tough job, but I'm going for it.

If my judgments were correct after hearing her speak, then I can swear that she must be leaned over to the left of the door frame, which means that there's an opening on the right that I could most likely scurry through, since Lauren was so small.

Even though my back was still in pain, I pushed myself from the support of the railing and forced my body to move. I kept my head down and swiftly side-walked toward the entrance—I kept my back to her, so that she wouldn't have a chance to see my face at all. Hopefully, she won't take it as suspicious, though.

Unfortunately, when I reached the door frame, I slammed the side of my face on it, sending very painful vibrations to my neck and up; it was worse because I was speeding—almost running because I was so confident that I knew exactly where to go. I guess, I stuck out my neck a few inches too much; I stumbled slightly, but thankfully kept my balance and was able to keep going.

“Goodness, Thomas, are you alright?!” she asked trying to get a hold of my arm, but I yanked it away.

“Y–yeah, I'm fine,” I replied, “I just, uh... I just wasn't paying attention.”

It was instinct for me to groan aloud in agony but I bit down on my lower lip and held the rest in. The reason is because I really didn't want to worry her more than she already was.

I tried my best to continue and walk inside as smoothly as possible. Although, I couldn't help but to stretch my arms out in caution; I really didn't want to run into anymore walls. Just as I was thinking that, I stubbed my big toe on what I believe to be the leg of a chair. Once again, I was speed walking, so that freaking hurt like a son of a gun! That shot so much pain through my foot that a tear or two came out. I honestly couldn't stop myself from cursing out loud; I was in agony. Now, both my face and my big toe we're throbbing, how wonderful.

Anyway, I finally made it to the stairs. When I reached the top, I felt my way to where I believe to be my room, then closed to door behind me and locked it. I went straight to the bathroom and turned the cold tap on like how Adam instructed me to do so. I would've preferred the hot one since I had been freezing outside not too long ago but I really wanted to insure that my sight would return, so I just held my breath and braved myself.

The third time I splashed the ice-cold water on my face was when my eyesight began to come back. This encouraged me to keep on going. By the seventh or eighth time, I was able to see completely and I couldn't help but laugh, feeling gratitude overwhelm me. I guess this, in a way, kinda made me appreciate my sight a little bit more, because some people aren't as fortunate and are born blind or need to wear glasses; my eyes are twenty-twenty and I'm thankful for that.

I finally decided to lay on my bed and when I did, I actually thought about Lauren and wondered why she won't just leave me alone and give up on me. I'm a mess and I cause her way too much stress, so why does she keep fighting for me? She always tells me that she's praying for me or whatever, but everytime she did, I'd just discourage from doing it; but she never really listened and pray for me regardless. Prayers don't work anyways, so what's the point? I always thought that it was wasted breath.

Only a few memories, back then, I think, now, to be good but the rest is ugly. My childhood was like a pile of week-old horse crap that rotted; I prayed when I was young but nothing changed.

Lauren always tells me that it's not too late to go to God and ask for forgiveness and repent; but I can't help but to laugh at that thought, because He should be the one to apologise to me for giving me such a messed up life. 

I remember Lauren telling me that the plans He has for everyone is good, so why has His plans for me been a living hell? Why has Dawn been sentenced to die so young if His plans are good for everyone? Why did I need to take Xanax, in the past, to feel good about myself and happy? It was given to me because back then I had severe anxiety, I still do but not as bad; and unfortunately, it wasn't long before I became addicted to it. Rehab was hell, I'll tell you that right now and I don't wish to ever go back, but you never know.

Also, I have depression and was prescribed multiple antidepressants to take regularly, but only Lauren has access to them and gives them to me when it's time. She doesn't trust me with them since, I guess, I'm ‘prone’ to abuse those as well.

I don't get, God. That's why it's so much easier to believe that there isn't a God at all, it puts me at ease because if there was one, then I'd be bitter and angry toward Him everyday and all day. Although, now I can't say there isn't one because of what I had experienced with Adam. He said that there's only one and He's the God of the Bible, so I guess there is no Budda or, uh... any of the other ones—just Him. If He's real then... does He not... care for me?—I don't know, whatever, this whole freaking thing is confusing.

Ah man, I really wished that I never pulled Adam's hood off. I wouldn't be in my thoughts thinking of crappy s—hey, wait. What if I stayed awake the whole night? Would I forget my memory then? He clearly said that only when I wake up in the morning, my memory of him and what happened would be gone. Surely this must be the first time someone, like me, was intelligent enough to outsmart an Angel, an actual Angel!

But as soon as I thought that, a heavy drowsiness quickly began to overwhelm me. I fought it at first but it wasn't long before I finally gave in and closed my fatigued eyes, allowing a very deep sleep to fall upon me. It was unbreakable.

***

I gently opened my eyes and stared up at the blank and boring ceiling for a long moment, in bewilderment. My ears were filled with the pestering sounds of the morning birds and the light that consumed my room was preventing me from falling back asleep, so I might as well get up.

It's late anyways, I thought then glanced at my wrist watch. It's eleven forty-three. This was so weird to me because this was the first time, since I last took Xanax, that I slept completely through the night. My sleeping pattern is... terrible, unfortunately.

I stayed in the comfort of my bed for another few minutes before I actually decided to sit up. Although, oddly enough, when I did, I felt soreness all over—my neck, my back, m–my right toe, even the side of my face; but my back hurt the most. What happened to me? Was I in a fight with someone or... something? I slid off of my bed and slowly made my way to the bathroom, groaning with each step I took.

My eyes widened when they landed on my reflection. Black and blue was painted on the right side of my face and on the center of my neck.

Where... did these... bruises come from?

———————

Hey here's another chapter for you guys!!

And I thought it'd be interesting to let you in on some of Thomas' life.

**What do you think of it?

**What do you think if him and how he acts?

Tell me in the comments and please don't forget to vote to show your love for the story. I won't throw anything at you if you do, I'm harmless!!!

Anyway, God bless and have a great day!

~Jiana