Chapter 28: Judgement Day
When Wirt began staying at his dad's house, he didn't imagine things ever becoming the way they did. He'd fantasized of sleeping soundly at night, without fearing the sound of footsteps approaching his bedroom door, and of no longer needing to feel like he had to hide. He wanted to see his closet simply as a small storage space for his clothes and personal belongings, not as a hiding place; he wanted to see his bed simply as a comfortable place to sleep, not as a trap; and he wanted to see his home as an escape from the everyday burdens of school, not as a prison.
It was subtly saddening to imagine never talking to his mom again, but then he remembered how she'd chosen a sick monster over him, and he didn't know to feel. He felt everything yet nothing, both at the same time. He felt grief losing the mother he once knew; he felt anger having been tossed into such a hellish situation at a young, young age and being used as somebody's vengeance and as a toy; he felt betrayal for not being his mother's first priority and for risking the insanity and safety of her own son; he felt euphoria from leaving and feeling safe for the first time in many, many years, and being the closest with Sara he's ever been in his whole life; yet he felt numb, empty, and drained, like a sort of "emotional whiplash."
The day following his dad's- Stephen's confession, he broke down and asked on the phone with Sara and her father if he could stay with them, just until the court case came to a conclusion. Sara's dad didn't even hesitate, telling Wirt to pack his things and to be there by six o'clock. Wirt did just that, packing a few days' worth of clothes, his clarinet, his suit, a notebook, and his school supplies. Upon arrival, he was promised a comfortable spot on the hide-a-bed and told to set his things in the closet.
The evening before the jury's final decision on Jonathan's fate, Wirt and Sara filled a bowl with popcorn and M&M's, sat together on the couch, and searched for a movie.
"Do you do scary movies?" Sara asked, remote in hand.
Wirt shrugged. "Not particularly."
"Hmm..." They sat in silence for several minutes as Sara scrolled through the movies available online, but she couldn't seem to find one and gave up, pressing the power button to turn it off. She sighed and looked at the clock up on the wall.
"Do you want to go up to my room?"
Wirt looked at the clock as well and nodded. It was almost ten, and suddenly he felt a surge of guilt at the realization that he'd left Greg alone at Stephen's house. Around this time, Greg would be in bed, and he was likely terrified of lying in a dark room without Wirt there, considering what had happened the last time Wirt had left him for an outing with Sara.
Sara stood and picked up the snack bowl, waiting for Wirt to follow.
Up in her room, Sara opened up her closet and pulled out a modest-looking dress and an ironing board. She left the room for a few moments, and came back with an iron. She plugged it in and waited for it to heat up.
"What's that for?" Wirt asked.
She spread the dress out over the board and straightened out the creases. "For tomorrow."
"Wait... you're going?"
Sara nodded a little shyly. "Yeah..."
Wirt became uncomfortable at the thought of Sara being there to see everything unravel. At that point, she'd already seen him throw up on the floor, his back and torso all tattered with bruises, his forehead and hair covered with dried blood after a vicious attack. But he still couldn't stand the notion of her sitting next to him in a court room while the judge and lawyers exploited the torture he'd endured in front of a stone cold jury.
"My dad wanted to go to see what happened," she explained, "and I wanted to... you know... be there for you."
Wirt didn't know how to respond, so he just stared at the dress Sara was pressing.
"What if they don't believe me?" Wirt asked out of the blue.
Sara looked at him, and stilled the iron.
"I don't know... I mean... You could stay with your dad."
Wirt cringed and shook his head. He realized Sara didn't know what his dad had told him. "Some stuff happened, I can't go back there..."
"Why not?"
Wirt crossed his arms. "It's a long story..."
Sara kept staring at him as if expecting him to continue, so he did. "My dad was kind of involved with Jonathan before I was born and all this other junk..."
Sara raised her eyebrows with concern. "Really?"
Wirt nodded. "Yeah, I can't go back."
Sara flipped the dress over and began pressing the back. "...I don't think my dad would be entirely opposed to letting you stay here. And, you know... Greg too."
"Nah, I don't want to bother your dad like that."
But really, Wirt couldn't think of anything better than that. He didn't have anywhere else to go, and he'd love to live with his best friend.
"...anyway, I mean, I don't think you have anything to worry about."
But Wirt wasn't so sure.
They sat in silence as Sara finished ironing the dress and hung it up.
There was a soft knock on the door. Sara invited whoever it was to come in, and her dad poked in his head.
"Don't stay up too late, you guys, okay? We have to be up at 7:30."
"Yeah, Dad," Sara said. "We won't."
"Good. I'm heading to bed. Love you, bumblebee." He looked at Wirt. "Goodnight, Wirt."
"Good night, Mr. Evans."
Sara's dad closed the door.
Sara opened her closet back up and turned to look at Wirt. "Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?"
Wirt thought for a moment. "Your dad might already have the hide-a-bed set up..."
"I can fold it back in," she said, then she realized how inappropriately insistent that sounded and quickly added, "Only if you want to though."
Wirt glanced at the door, and then gave in. "Sure."
Sara smiled, and began taking blankets and pillows out of her closet. "You can take the bed."
"That's okay, I'm fine on the floor."
"Hey, don't even sweat it." She began setting a pillow and blanket onto her carpet.
Wirt glanced up at her desk, and his stomach twisted in on itself when he saw the tape he'd made just before Halloween.
He stood up and wandered over to his backpack to pull out a white tee and sweatpants torn into knee-lengthed shorts. "I'm going to change into my pajamas."
She hummed back in confirmation, otherwise not paying any attention to him.
He silently plucked the tape from her desk and took it with him to the bathroom.
Once he'd shut and locked the door, he tossed the tape deck to the floor. With his shoes still on, he stepped on and smashed it, the plastic bending until it couldn't anymore. He picked up the long black strip of film and began tearing it apart, using his fingers and even his teeth. This way, nobody could try to recover it no matter how hard they tried.
Then he calmly changed into his pajamas, hid the damaged remains of the tape into the bundle of his previous clothes, and went back to Sara's room.
Sara was already fast asleep in the little makeshift bed.
Wirt quietly stuffed his clothes into his backpack, and lie down.
"Night," he whispered out loud, even though he very well knew she couldn't hear him.
With that, he shut the light off and fell asleep.
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Both the Unknown and Aberdale began facing Winter at the same time, but the Unknown saw the harsh snow sooner.
Wirt and Greg trudged through it, Wirt squinting and gripping his cloak tightly.
"I-I-I-I's-" Greg sneezed thrice consecutively. "It's so cold."
"I know," he turned toward Greg. "I'm trying to look for the tavern, but-"
Wirt stopped, seeing how pale Greg was and how blue his lips had become.
"Oh gosh!- alright, we're stopping."
He picked Greg up and walked over to a tree.
With Greg still in his arms, Wirt began kicking away piles of snow from the base of the tree. He sat down and set his cloak over Greg like a blanket. He cradled him and watched the flakes falling from the sky. It was relaxing and hypnotic, and before he knew how tired he was, he dozed off.
Wirt gave a soft snore, and Greg poked his cheek. Wirt didn't react, and Greg giggled.
"Gregory."
Greg recognized the voice, and with wide eyes, and he slowly looked up.
"This is no good," The Beast told him. "You're here laughing while your brother is not."
"I just-"
"Hush... don't wake him."
Greg pressed his lips together.
"Your brother is pain, Gregory." The Beast squinted. "You know that, right?"
Greg nodded slowly. "Yeah..."
"Don't you feel guilty? Laughing and being so joyful while he's suffering. And after all he's done for you?"
Everything went dark except for himself and the Beast, and Greg began to cry out of sheer terror.
"For giving you his cloak? For trying to make the pain go away after you were hurt?"
Greg looked down and bit his upper lip.
"Your brother despised you when you were born, Gregory. Do you know why?"
Greg didn't say anything, didn't even shake his head.
"Because you're nothing but a burden to him. You came from your father, the one who harmed him, and therefore you're nothing but a monument of your brother's suffering."
Greg began to cry harder, wiping his tears with his cold sleeve.
"Don't you think you owe him quite a bit?"
The darkness vanished, and he could see his brother's sleeping face beside him.
"Come with me, and we'll take your brother's suffering away. I'll help you fulfill your duty to pay your brother back."
Greg looked between his brother and the Beast, tears still rolling down his face.
Finally, he made his decision.
He stood up, and set the cloack back over its rightful owner. Wirt stirred, but didn't wake.
"Let's go, Gregory." The Beast held out a branchy hand. "Your brother will greatly appreciate this."
Greg forced himself to stop crying, his eyes and nose still burning and bottom lip still trembling.
He took the Beast's hand, and let himself be taken away into the darkness beyond the trees.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Greg awoke, eyes wide and forehead moist.
He looked over at the clock. It was almost two o' clock in the morning. The sky was a strange grey, almost orange color, and Wirt wasn't there.
From down the hall, he heard voices.
He sat up and slid off the bed to leave the room. He wandered down the hall toward the noise.
Stephen was fast asleep in the living, sitting upright on the couch, but the TV was on.
Greg knew something had happened between Wirt and his dad. He felt like even acknowledging Stephen would be betraying his brother.
But at the same time, he felt so lonely and scared in the dark bedroom by himself.
He gave in and picked up the remote, sitting beside Stephen on the couch.
There wasn't anything on at this hour, not for him. There was Sesame Street, but he didn't want to watch that now. The main cartoon channel aired grown-up shows late at night and early in the morning, so he didn't bother with those.
One of the movie channels was airing Coraline, a movie he'd watched in his class the day before Halloween. He selected it, having liked the movie a lot.
As soon as he changed the channel, Stephen woke up and looked at him. "What are you doing up this late?"
"I didn't want to be alone in there." Greg was timid, but honest.
Stephen blinked and looked at the TV, and then looked back at Greg. "Okay, but try to get some sleep, okay?"
Greg gave a small smile and nodded. "I will."
Stephen fell back asleep, and Greg followed a few minutes after.
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Wirt wondered if this is how the girls and women of Salem felt in the late 1600's before finding out whether or not they'd be put to death.
Today in court, Sara sat on one side of him and Olivia sat on the other. Next to Sara was her father, and speaking now was the judge.
"Perhaps we can all agree that this has been a disturbing, confusing case..."
The judge began his ramble. Wirt was restless and terrified, fumbling with his hands and just waiting for the juror's decision to be announced. He looked up at his mother, and they both looked away quickly upon making eye contact.
She sat up, folding her hands in her lap and listening to the judge talk. In her eyes was disappointment, loss, and even fear.
Then it began.
"Jonathan, on multiple accounts of incest, and on multiple accounts of sexual assault on a minor under the age of eighteen, we find you..."
Wirt's pulse pounded in his ears, and it startled him when he felt Sara reach over and take his hand.
The tensions, trauma, and suffering that had built up over almost an entire decade were building up like air in a balloon, on the verge of popping.
And then, it was...
"Not guilty."
