Thank you all so much for the reviews! After I had my Chemo I felt very tired and went to sleep. I felt a little sick after a hours (but that's normal) when I felt better I came to check my Fanfiction and I was so happy to see the reviews. I love you all so much!
-The Youngest Writer.
CHAPTER 3-THE FIRST NIGHT
~Three Days~
I could hear the thunder before I gazed out of the window watching the dark grey sky. I gulped, being in a strange house against your will was bad enough, but I hated thunderstorms. I could deal with them at home where I had Soda, or even Darry to run to if I got scared, but there was no one to turn to here. I was told to stay in "my room", to make matters worse, Rex came in not long after I got dressed; I was laying on the bed trying to think of a plan to escape, thinking the door was locked, but he stomped in. I immediately got scared and huddled to the edge of the bed in the corner.
He just chuckled and began screwing something on the door. He chuckled, admiring his handy work. I noticed he had made a large key-hole, the key, tied on a string around his neck like a necklace.
"Now we'll know if you're in there or not." He smirked, laughing as he walked away. I felt my bottom lip quiver and slowly lowered my head, not wanting to look at him anymore. I laid on the bed for what felt like an eternity, needing to use the restroom and my stomach began to growl. I guessed I was probably locked in the room for maybe four hours, judging by how high the sun was by looking out my window, I could tell it was around noon.
I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me, as if I had been running all my life. I felt my chest heave up and down, I tried to gasp for air. I didn't know what was happening to me but I caught myself tangled in blankets and sheets and I cried out for help. A pair of hands gripped my face and when I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see how dark the room was. I felt sweat run off of my face and I tried to keep myself calm.
"Sssh, baby, you're okay. Momma is here." It was Chrissy. I didn't want Chrissy, I wanted Soda. I wanted Darry. I wanted to go home! I bawled louder and harder as she held me against her chest, rubbing my back.
"My dear Boy, what happened? Was it a nightmare?" She continued to ask me questions but I couldn't answer her, I was crying too much. It had dawned on me then, I wasn't just having a nightmare, rather I was living one now. Chrissy handed me a glass of water, when I didn't take it, she gently pressed it to my lips, slowly allowing a river of water to enter my mouth. I sniffed, calming down a little as she nourished me with the cool, iced-water. I did calm down a little bit, but I shivered and silent tears left my eyes.
"My Goodness, Michael. What happened?" She sounded worried. I knew right then I must have passed out from this afternoon and probably suffered from a nightmare. The scary thing was, I don't remember what I had dreamed about, all I felt was scared and confused. Normally I don't remember my nightmares, but when I do they're real bad, maybe I don't remember them because they're that terrible.
"Was it a nightmare?" She asked again.
I shrugged and she give me a look of pity, kissing the crown of my head before helping me on shaky legs away from the bed. She took me by the hand down a spiral of winding stairs, my eyes felt blurry, irritated and my throat felt raw. Where she led me was to a large living room with extravagant windows that gave us a nightly view of countryside Tulsa.
"Sit and wait." She softly spoke, leaving me alone on a leather couch.
Here's my chance! Run away! My brain told me. No, stay. What if they catch you?! My conscious told me. My thoughts were emotions were having a fight and it just left me with an upset stomach.
Chrissy returned with a medium sized bottle and a spoon. She sat next to me and poured a dark red, goop into the spoon before holding it up to me. It reminded me of the medication Mom would give Darry, Soda and I when we were little and sick. I was hesitant at first, this woman gave me no reason to trust her, but then again, I'd rather her company over Rex's.
She firmly glanced at me. "Open up, Michael."
"May I have aspirin?" I asked.
"No, this will work just as fine. Now open." She commanded. Not wanting a fight, I slowly opened my mouth, allowing her to put the spoon inside and swallowed the cherry medicine with a stale aftertaste. I grimace when she poured one more spoonful and held it up to me, I closed my eyes and allowed another dose to enter my body. She smiled sweetly at me, handing me another cup of water to wash it down.
"Better, my child?" She kissed my forehead.
I felt shivers. I couldn't tell what was scarier, either I was kidnapped, or the fact that she literally was in a state of mind where she believed I was her child. She wrapped a blanket around me and flipped on the TV to some movie playing on the Late Night Shows. I felt a little more relaxed when I could get into the film of Cowboys, Indians and John Wayne. I was pulled out of the Old West mentality when someone plopped on the couch next to me. I shrank down when I realized it was Rex, sipping a beer with an arm drown across the rim of the couch.
I scooted away from him, but into Chrissy's lap.
"You're affectionate, Michael." She smiled, pinching my cheek. "Isn't he so sweet, Rex?"
Rex looked over at me, I tried not to make eye-contact. "Yeah, he's a Momma's boy alright." Chrissy seemed pleased with that statement and continued stroking my hair.
The movie was over and Chrissy led me with her hand on my back upstairs to "My room". I shivered as she tucked me into bed, trying to ignore the fact that her nearly exposed chest was in my face as she kissed my forehead goodnight.
"Momma loves you, Michael." She cooed, "How about I get my boy some warm milk before he goes back to bed?" Anything to get her away from me. I nodded. She left with a smile, promising to be back in a short while. I figured now was a good chance more than ever to try and escape. I took the covers off of me and started running for the door before I ran into Rex's toned chest. I fell to the ground on my butt, fearful.
". . . what are you doing out of bed?" Rex asked, the side of his teeth grit together. Rex reminded me of Johnny's dad. I had only seen the man once and it was on total accident, Dad and I were driving home and we saw poor Johnny getting screamed at on his front lawn by his father. The large man with broad shoulders and a bottle of beer in his hand. I remember being frightened of him and Dad holding me close, rubbing my back. He told me it was alright and he wouldn't let Johnny's dad within ten feet of me.
I felt a lump coming to my throat in remembering my father, my REAL father, not this joke.
"Get in bed." He hissed. I nodded, climbing back into the covers. Rex stayed in the room, just watching me. Every now and then he'd take a swig of his alcoholic beverage, but his eyes never left me. I slithered deep into the covers, hoping I could pretend to sleep good enough so he'll leave me alone. Instead, he came closer.
"My. . boy. . " He hiccuped, rubbing my back. I cringed, closing my eyes tight, hoping this was all just a nightmare.
"Michael~ Momma has your milk." Chrissy came in, sitting on the edge of the bed. I held back a whine as I sat up. My eyes widened seeing she had brought me a small child's milk bottle with the rubber nipple and everything.
"May. . . I have a glass, please?" I begged. Chrissy shook her head, "I didn't want you dropping it on you, Michael. Lay down and Daddy will sing for you." Rex, with his slightly clean-shaven face, steel blue sharp, cold eyes and black hair. . . never crossed my mind to be the singing type. I didn't want Rex to sing to me, I wanted to go home! I wanted Soda to sing to me, I wanted Darry to hold me, I wanted Two-bit's lame jokes he laughs so hard at, hell, I even wanted Steve to call me a tag-along kid.
It's a redundant cycle: I want to go home.
"Drink, boy." Rex growled. I didn't know if he had a heater, or maybe a knife, or a blade on him so I allowed Chrissy to stick the childish item in my mouth and felt the warm milk drain down my throat. I fought hard to keep awake, but with the warmth of the milk and oddly enough Rex's alto singing-song voice, he would have been good if he hadn't drank so much and had to pause to either belch or nearly vomit. I felt my eyes become heavy and I fell right to sleep.
"I love you, Michael."
Michael . . . Michael. . . Michael. . . .
I wasn't Michael, I was Ponyboy.
~Three Days~
Short chapter, I know, but I didn't have much time to write today, but hopefully this was enough for you all.
Thanks for the kind, encouraging reviews, keep them coming.
-The Youngest Writer.