Chapter 1
Years had passed since that day. Thomas somewhat had come to terms with Allison's death. He had spent his days at school like any other kid, did sports and gym. He had changed. Somehow, the memory of the writing on ceiling was pushed out of mind completely. And yet, he was still gay-in-closet. That's one thing he was not able to change about himself. Deep within this secret was connected with Allison and as she died, it died with her and deep inside himself, he still missed his cousin greatly. Occasionally he would see her in a dream, happy, smiling. And despite the dream, he would always wake up, silent tears streaming down his face.
- 'Mom, I am home!' Thomas said, closing doors behind him. It was last week before school began and before Thomas had to begin his Senior Year at school. Yep, he was 16 and in December would turn 17. He had just got home from his shopping with his friends for Senior Year.
- 'In the kitchen honey!' A voice responded. Thomas took off his shoes and put on his home slippers and walked in.
- 'Hey mom.' He said but was a bit surprised. His dad was home also.
- 'Hi son.' Raymond Silveret greeted his son. Thomas waved back and was about to go upstairs.
- 'Thomas, we have to talk.' Cassandra Silveret spoke. Thomas looked up at her but shrugged.
- 'Sure thing, what's up?' Thomas asked and grabbed nearby stool and joined to his parents at the counter.
- 'It's… well, we know it's your Senior Year but umm…' She seemed to be at loss with words. She looked meaningfully at her husband for help. He avoided her gaze and was extra careful gazing at the fruit plate on counter.
- 'Mom, what's going on?' Thomas sensed she was about to drop off a large bomb on him. Seriously, he could tell when she was about to say something huge.
- 'Your dad's work is relocating him for a construction job. And they say it will be a huge project so it will take a while so he umm… well… we are moving.' She finished. Thomas flinched.
- 'Mom, it's my senior year.' Thomas said in flat tone.
- 'We know son.' His dad said.
- 'SSSSSSSeeeeeeennniiiiiiiioooooorrrr yyeeeeaaaaaarrr.' Thomas ignored his dad and dragged every syllable on those two words as if his parents were crazy people and didn't understand what he was saying.
- 'Thomas, I know, okay? We just… we have to do this.' Cassandra said silently.
- 'Wait, why do I get the feeling the worst is yet to come?' Thomas said, looking from his mother to father. They both exchanged seriously loaded looks.
- 'It's… where we move.' She said. Thomas frowned and kept himself from laughing. How the hell place can be worse than the moving fact itself?
- 'We are going to Beacon Hills.' His father told. After that, it seemed the time itself had stopped. There was no one talking, only rasped breathing coming from Thomas and an old family clock ticking from hallway his mother had found in attic. It seemed her grandfather had left it to her. Thomas grew uneasy with each second. He looked at his mom and then at his father and back again, bouncing his sight, basically pleading that one of them is about to say a very belated 'April Fools' on a very, very horrible joke.
- 'You are serious.' Thomas whispered, hiding his palms from their sight. They curled in fists.
- 'Yes.' His mom stiffly nodded.
- 'No way! No, that's out of the question!' Thomas said, raising his voice. His mother threw a quick I-told-you-so look at her husband. Thomas rose to his feet and with balled fists sharply spun around on his heels to leave kitchen.
- 'Son, we a-' his father began but Thomas was not listening.
- 'Shut up.' Thomas said.
- 'We are going in two days.' His father said, his tone serious.
- 'Fine! Go! Go to Beacon Hills! I don't care. I am staying!' Thomas exclaimed.
- 'Thomas… It's… your father set things in motion. We will live at Chris' place and we have already put this house for sale.' Cassandra said, pleading.
- 'And I will ask you to watch your mouth young man.' His father said.
- 'Really? Really dad? Do you honestly expect me to be calm after pulling this on me?! YOU WERE BETTER OFF NOT BEING HOME AT ALL!' Thomas swore.
- 'Thomas!' Cassandra exclaimed.
- 'NO, I'VE HAD IT! HE AND JOB JUST KEEPS MESSING THIS UP! HE COMES HOME, IT'S ALWAYS THIS, ALWAYS THAT! I DIDN'T SEE HIM BEING THERE WHEN I NEEDED SOMEONE THE MOST, WHEN ALLISON DIED! OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SUCH A HYPOCRITE! YOU COME HERE AND WANT TO DRAG US TO BEACON HILLS?' Thomas couldn't control himself.
- 'GO TO YOUR ROOM, MISTER!' Raymond exclaimed, clearly beet red and shocked.
- 'YOU NEVER CARED! ALLISON DIED THERE! ALLISON DIED IN THAT PLACE AND IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF HER STUPID FRIENDS AND HER FA-' He stopped himself, realizing he was about to betray Allison's secret about her family being hunters of the supernatural creatures. His parents stood there pale-faced, looking at their son who had clearly lost it. Thomas took his jacket and strode straight for doors. He knew this argument wouldn't solve anything because his mother had already agreed to this nightmare and once his father had gotten her over to his side, it was all over.
- 'Where… where are you going?' Cassandra asked, her voice cracking.
- 'Apparently, no one here cares about how I feel about this and just drop the nuclear bomb on top of my head. I need to say my goodbyes.' Thomas said, his arms still shaking. His father stepped forward to grip Thomas' shoulder but Thomas evaded.
- 'Thomas-' his father began but Thomas swatted his arm away.
- 'Don't you dare to touch me. I will never, never forgive you this.' He said to his father and slammed doors behind him shut, making glass objects tremble. He didn't hear his mother's sobs breaking out and also didn't hear her shouting at her husband. Thomas didn't care. They had done their damage.
When Roger, Thomas' best friend had opened doors, he was surprised at first to see him there, as he had just literally dropped him off at his place after shopping. Seeing the look on Thomas' face, he didn't dare to tease him.
- 'Punching bag?' He asked, knowing at moments like these Thomas could use it.
- 'Yeah.' He said in lifeless tone and went past Roger straight to his basement. Roger's mother wanted to greet him but Roger cut her off with short shake of his head, sending signal of not-now.
After Roger had earned nice amount of money for developing a touch-screen phone app, his parents obliged to his wish to redecorate house basement for personal gym, so when Roger offered Thomas 'Punching bag', he clearly meant real punching bag. Roger had every piece of equipment needed to get him abs and rest of the muscles visible. Usually Thomas used his membership to gym but right now, he needed secluded place.
Surely enough Roger stood, his arms and legs crossed, his back pressed to basement's far corner wall and watched as Thomas had gotten special arm bandages around his palm and knuckles, instead of using boxing gloves. Roger didn't say anything, yet, knowing Thomas needed to get the steam off.
First punches came with sharp exhales from Thomas' mouth. His palms quickly warmed up, stinging slightly from being forced against the hard punching bag material. The conversation with his parents just flooded his mind and to think he was perfectly okay just moments before it-
- 'Aaaaaaarrrggghh!' He shouted out loud and accelerated his hitting speed, quickly developing sweat drops on his forehead. Roger frowned as he watched the strength Thomas applied to his punches and clearly knew Thomas was going at his limits. Man, what the hell happened?
No one knew about Allison, except Thomas' family. He had not bothered to tell anyone because then there would be unnecessary questions of 'why it bothered him so much'. His mother learned to quickly stop asking it after first few tries in beginning but in the end she just gave up, hoping he would come to terms with it himself and tell eventually. She was wrong. Gradually she just watched as her son changed, became 'same as others' and socialized in parties and through sports. In the end, she just stopped waiting.
Thomas slid down on his knees, bruising them against basement's hard flooring and panting from exhaustion. He had threw all the punches he could to physically exhaust himself but mentally – it was all there, still raging through his brain cells as insatiable beast. At moments like these he would talk to Allison but Allison was not anymore and yet again he was brought to the harsh truth of the ironical never-ending cycle. That made him to hate Beacon Hills even more, if that was possible.
- 'Are you ready to talk?' Roger asked, carefully. Thomas laughed internally. If Roger knew what was going on behind all of this, he would probably be on his way to tell his mother call nearest asylum to come pick Thomas up and put him in straight jacket.
- 'My parents dropped move bomb on me.' Thomas said, still panting. Roger came and reached out his hand. Thomas grasped it and got on his feet, ignoring the slightly bleeding knees and bruises on his arms. He took off the bandages and Roger exhaled.
- 'When?' He nodded, understanding, yet never to know the full reason behind Thomas acting this way.
- 'In two days.' Thomas said. He sat down on the leather couch and took out bottle of water out of Roger's cold box. He took down whole bottle, never realizing how thirsty he had been.
- 'Damn.' Roger said. Thomas nodded. It was goodbye to his old life.
Chris had come to pick Thomas' family up at the airport. Thomas had refused to talk with his parents after the conversation and just silently sat at the back of car.
- 'What's up with him?' Chris asked, frowning at Thomas' attitude. Cassandra didn't reply. She knew better rather than to bring up Thomas' problems for other people. Even more so if they involved. Raymond had already arrived ahead and made the arrangements with his workplace and Chris.
- 'How have you been?' Cassandra asked. Thomas hurriedly put headphones in his ears and blasted music from his mp3 player. He tuned out Chris and Cassandra, looking straight out at Beacon Hills' woods. Moments later, he could swear he had seen glimpse of two red eyes in misty woods. Welcome to the hell.