Hi everyone! I apologize for it being a REALLY, REALLY long time. I got caught up in helping one of my friends with his story, so go check him out! His user name's alloutassaulthorizon, he's awesome, and we're sorta co-writing a story of his together. I'll try to update faster, I'm actually a bigger updater during the school week than on weekends. As always, ENJOY!
-8tickles
P.S Shout out to mum2shane, pottergirl, bloody, and alloutassaulthorizon for commenting, it means more than you'll ever know to me!
(Isabel's POV)
The older boy slammed the door behind me as I slid down against the wall into a crouch, burying my face in my knees. I fought back the need to cry, instead focusing on the numbness tingling just below the surface of my messed up pool of emotions that I called a life. I looked up at the boy, forcing myself into a poker face. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Ima go get my brother." He began slowly backing away from me, turning around every second or so to see if I was still there on the floor and hadn't made a break for it.
He slipped up the stairs two at a time, all the while calling, "Tommy! Thomas! Thomas! THOMAS!" with his calls becoming louder and more incessant every time. A door slammed open and closed. I heard a foot stomp on the floor, followed by the boy's voice growling threats and swear words. Finally, the door opened and was quickly pulled shut. Then, Thomas appeared at the top of the stairs, looking like a god, as usual.
I thought about the mark on his cheek, then my mom, and I lost it. I let the tears come and sobbed. So much had happened in the last day, it was too much to take in. As soon as Thomas saw me crying, he nearly tripped over his own two feet he moved down the stairs so fast. He flung himself down the landing and was by my side in a split second.
"What's wrong?! Is it me?!"
"No…I…I'm homeless and parentless."
"Oh my god." Was all he could muster.
"Yea." I said, then he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tight against his chest. He pressed his face to mine, the scar on his cheek rough from the closing wounds. After a while, my sobbing dwindled to crying, then to little sniffles, finally ending when he rocked me to sleep, tear-stains dried on my face, too stressed out to do anything but sleep. It was not a peaceful slumber. I woke up once or twice, nervous when I didn't remember where I was, until everything came rushing back and the tears would flood my cheeks, once again. Every time, Thomas would quiet me down and hum a lovely tune until I relaxed enough to close my eyes.
Night fell, and my stomach began growling at me. Slowly and shakily, I rose to my feet. Thomas came up right behind me, ready to support me if I were to fall. He wrapped an arm around my waist, his much lighter skin tone making me remember he darkness of his brother's. "Why do you and your brother look so different?" I murmured, still a little groggy.
"My mother is black, my father was white. Both of my brothers resemble my mom, while I look much more like my dad." With his curly black hair, warm golden skin tone and rich cocoa eyes, I never would have guessed that his mom was black. "Where is everybody?" I turned so that I could see him, our faces only inches from touching.
"Ricky, my oldest brother, left for work about an hour ago, my mom isn't home yet, and I have no idea where Jack is, as usual. We'll go for days on end sometimes, then he comes home and mom starts interrogating him about where he was, and he won't say a word. Com'on, I'll go make us dinner." He grabbed my hand and tugged me down the short hall and into the kitchen. It was quaint but neat and tidy with laminate counter tops and cupboards in a pale blue-grey color. A square, rickety plastic table with old bar stools was centered under a huge hanging light that cast a warm glow throughout the room. An old refrigerator in the same blue-grey color was snuggled into a corner. The only signs that a family lived here were only evident in a few places. Homework was spread across the table. A note to buy milk was taped to the fridge. A pair of shoes that were flung carelessly under the table.
I pulled out one of the stools and plopped down, splaying out my arms and resting my head in the nook of darkness I'd just created. My life had been spinning slowly in a downward spiral, just waiting to collapse; now, the wave of aftereffects crashing down on my shoulders, pressing down on my very soul. It'd just been too much. What was I going to do?
(Thomas's POV)
The whole time I'd held her, my heart was racing faster than a freight train rumbling down the tracks, unstoppable and ready to hit anything in its course. I was sure she would notice, but she didn't. Now that she sat at the table with her head down, I could stare at the back of her normally shiny blonde hair, flopped around at funny angles because she'd slept on me for so long. I put two patties of meat in a pan on the stove and waited, watching very carefully. A few minutes passed, and the burgers were ready. I dug some hamburger buns out of the pantry, added lettuce, cheese and tomato, and placed her plate in front of her on the table while taking mine to the opposite side. She raised her head and picked up the burger, delicately pulling off a tiny piece before she set it down again.
"I don't think I can eat, anymore." She sighed. I tried to lighten the mood. "Don't make me come over there and force-feed you." I attempted a smile. She just sighed again. Give her some space you genius. We sat in quiet for a few minutes until her hunger won out and she ate about half of the hamburger.
"Do you want to go to bed now?" I asked her. She just nodded. I got up and offered her a hand. She took it and wouldn't let go. I led her upstairs and into my room. "Holdon just a sec." She looked down and nodded vaguely, dropping my hand.
I rooted through a drawer and found a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that didn't look too big. "Bathroom's down the hall to the right." For the first time in many hours, she looked up at me and smiled. Damn it. There went my heart rate again. She took the clothes and slipped down the short hallway.
As I pulled out the trundle bed that stores under mine and began to set it up, I hummed "Same love" by Macklemore while I worked. No laws gonna change us. We have to change us.
