The Soundtrack of Life
by: dancechick307
Track 2: Take Me Away
Artist: Luke Castellan
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
-Numb, Linkin' Park
He sprints through his room, ripping down anything that stands in his way, like a mad man. He reaches the closet at the back of the room, and the minute his hand slips onto the cold brass feel of the knob, he escapes into a routine far too familiar now.
He slowly opens the door and ducks below the shelf inside the closet, scrunching underneath it and pulling his knobby knees to his chest. He rests his chin on the top of his knees, trying to concentrate on breathing slowly, calmly, and quietly. He practices on blending into the darkness, belonging to the shadows. Despite how silent he tries to be, his heart pounds loudly in his chest revealing how truly scared he is. He reaches one arm out and pulls the door shut, flinching at the loud sound it makes at it closes.
Swallowed up in darkness, he tries to clear his mind. But the rustle outside, the sound of heavy footsteps, and the raspy voice of a woman, distract him and flood his mind with images of those piercing glowing eyes. He squeezes his eyes tight as though it would help get rid of the frightening images flashing through his head. Perspiration builds up on the back of his neck as he hugs his knees tighter to himself, set on trying to be as small as possible.
It has been at least an hour now and she still hasn't found him.
Good. He'll be safe here, in his little hideout. Reaching his arm above his head, he feels around in the darkness for a long string to turn on the light above his head. The light is dim and will surely not give him away, or at least this is what he says to himself.
He relaxes a bit, now that the light is on and the buzz sound of the television downstairs is heard. He slides himself back, going deeper into the small closet. Suddenly his head hits the shelf above him and the impact sends a cardboard box full of books crashing down.
His sharp reflexes kick in and he catches the heavy box in his hands. He sighs and tries to balance the big box, but fails and watches its content spill onto the floor. The box is full of children's books. He slowly brushes his hand across the dusty cover of the one that's fallen nearest to him. He picks it up delicately as though the book is made of glass and holds it close to his face. He turns the pages with care, absorbing every picture on the pages. His dyslexia prevents him from being able to read the words, but he can see fine and understands what the story is about just by looking at the pictures.
He flips through the book faster and faster now, no longer being careful of the pages. He's mad now.
He hates this book.
He hates everything about it. He hates the pictures. He hates the words even though they jump off the pages before he can read them. He hates the colors that paint each picture. He hates the author of the book. He hates the characters in it. But most of all, he hates how it reminds him of something he doesn't have. A family.
The last page in the book contains only an illustration, no words, because after all, a picture is worth a thousand words.
And this picture is worth everything to the little boy hiding in the closet. It's his hopes, his dreams, the little fantasy that plays over and over again in his head. This picture shows a mom, a dad, and a young boy sitting on a red-checkered blanket having a picnic. The mom's blue eyes are focused on her son and her hand is resting on his shoulder while her other hand is resting on her husband's hand. The dad has a football tucked underneath his arm and his hand is on the boy's other shoulder. The boy has his arms wrapped around a golden retriever. A lunch including peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and watermelon and lemonade is set out in front of them. The sun is shining above and the sky is a bright blue.
This is the picture of a perfect family.
The boy, wrapped in his own thoughts, stares at this picture and his eyes glaze over with a sense of longing. His heart beats out a unsteady tune and his breathing is hoarse as a lump forms in his throat. He runs his small hands over the page, wishing to be sucked into the book. Suddenly the door of the closet is flung open and bumps him in the knee. He drops the book and his eyes go wide with fear. He's too frightened to pay attention to his throbbing knee.
"I found you!" the woman standing over him yells cheerfully. She laughs loudly and he cringes. He wants to get away, to hide back into the shadows of his little closet, and to close his eyes and pretend that he lives a much different life.
She tugs at his arms, puling him up, and he follows her, despite his wishes, out of the closet. She smiles brightly down at him, and he doesn't even attempt to return the smile. It won't make a difference.
His eyes study her, watching her every move, trying to decide what state she is in. Her eyes aren't glowing; he notes relieved. Yet as his nerves calm down a bit, a voice, a quiet one, asks him what other normal boy has to analyze his own mother and make sure if she's still dangerous or not?
He wants to snap back at the voice. He wants to tell it that he's just making sure whether she's sick or not because his father will home soon to take them out to dinner at a nice restaurant where all the other normal families go on a Friday night. But he can't. Because it's a lie.
So instead he swallows hard and shakes his head slightly as though to get rid of the voice, and he looks up at his mother with renewed hope.
"Mommy?" He says slowly, looking up into her eyes, hoping, hoping so hard that she will come back to him.
"Oh, nice to meet you!" She cries, pulling him into a tight hug. His head ducks into her chest and she rests her cheek on the top of his head. He can hear her heart beating beneath her clothes. His hope is shattered.
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes violently in his mother's arms as hot, steaming tears roll down his face. He clenches his hands into fists.
He tries to picture himself somewhere else. Somewhere far away.
Somewhere, anywhere, but here.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading everyone! Reviews are always appreciated :)
Oh and thanks again to everyone who reviewed last chapter!
xoxo