Changes
Chapter I - Scar Tissue
Evolution is a painful and sometimes violent process – Mohinder Suresh
Jason jolted out of bed. A cold sweat covered his face. He placed a moist hand on his face and wiped the beads slowly trickling down his forehead. He glanced at the clock. 5:30. Perfect. He lay back down on his pillow and stared at the ceiling, thinking of the day that lay ahead of him. He closed his eyes. Silently, tears began to stream down his face. If only, if only…I could change all of this. Move away. Find somewhere, anywhere, better then here. Everything would be perfect. Everything would be all right. His pillow began to become wetter as the clock slowly changed…5:31…
Jason's eyes shot wide open. Someone was at the door. Banging. He faintly heard screams from outside. Jason crawled out of bed and slowly drifted across the floor. He tripped and fell, banging his elbow. Swollowing his pain, he slowly began to creep across the floor when- 'I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! LET ME IN!' Jason gasped. That sounded like…him. The man who had tormented Jason's dreams for so long. Jason slowly felt himself crawl to the door, shaking in fright. He heard the man behind the door begin to slowly call his name…Jason…Jason…
'JASON! Wake up! You are going to sleep your god damn life away! Get off your lazy ass and get moving!'
As the sixteen year old slowly dressed for school, he drew upon his dreams from the night before. Why did the first keep coming? This was the fourth night in a row that he had had this dream. Was someone…up there trying to tell him- no. It couldn't be. There was no god. There wasn't someone watching him because if there was, there wouldn't be poverty, war, or hatred in this world. He wouldn't be stuck here, his dad wouldn't have done what he did, and the stupid bastard that called himself Jason's father would never have even met Mrs. Warden. Another reminder that he'll be late for school, damn it, shocked Jason back into his senses, and he hurriedly chose a blue long-sleeved shirt and a pair of tattered blue jeans and scampered downstairs.
The breakfast table was silent when he arrived. Willow was chewing on her cereal, quiet but contented, Warden was in her bathrobe, emblazoned with small teddy bears, given to her by Jason and his father when everything was all right. As usual, Rick was glaring Jason down from his seat at the head of the table, hurriedly dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and an undershirt.
'My, You're up early. Must be almost 8,' he snapped at Jason.
'Good morning to you, too,' Jason muttered back. 'Morning, Willow, Morning Warden,' He said, knowing full well what he had put on himself. Rick stood up from the head of the table.
'Boy, what did you say?'
'I called her by her name.'
'You called her by the name that criminal gave her. You know that we never speak his name in this household. You may call her mom, mother, mommy dearest if you really wanna, or, ma'am, but never, ever, call her that filthy name.
Jason narrowed his eyes. 'You mean my name?'
Rick took a step foreword. 'Yes.'