tragic

7- noah- hunger

the mood^^ but its raining

My heart pounds relentlessly in my chest as I sprint through the rain, escaping from Theo, his promises, and the sympathy in his eyes that pierces through my soul. The rhythm of my shoes crunching on loose concrete and scattered rocks echoes in my ears, harmonizing with the relentless patter of the raindrops on the sidewalk. Tears merge with rain on my cheeks, a never-ending stream of agony and despair. Wiping them away seems futile, as they're replaced by new ones. And so, I let them flow. How could I have been so foolish? My dad is going to kill me. Panic and fear pulse through me—I'm really going to die. "It's okay, Noah," I murmur, seeking solace as I push open the front door, my heart pounding like a drum.The living room stands empty as I peer around, searching for any signs of my father. I move towards my room, my sanctuary, but find it vacant as well. Confusion tightens its grip—where is he? I glance out the front window, spotting the empty driveway I'd overlooked during my hasty escape. A soft "huh" escapes me as I navigate to the kitchen, my stomach gnawing at itself. Maybe I can grab something from the fridge or pantry before he returns. Survival instincts kick in.Opening the fridge reveals nothing but a jar of peanut butter and expired milk. Cupboards yield a half-eaten pack of saltine crackers and a lone can of beans. Sighing, I grab the saltines, extracting two and muttering, "Bon appétit," as I nibble on one. My room beckons, and I flop onto the bed, my gaze drawn to the red spot on the carpet. A grim reminder of last night's nightmare, I stare at it unblinkingly, devoid of emotion. My body aches from the trauma, but the pain is numbed by a detached emptiness. I shut my eyes, succumbing to the fatigue that envelops me, slipping into a deep sleep.My eyes flutter open as the sunlight pierces through the window, and I mutter a curse while covering my eyes. A glance at the clock in the living room reveals it's 2:35 pm. "Oh man!" I whisper, realizing I've slept the entire day and missed school. Dread coils within me—I'm going to be in so much trouble. A moment of silence reigns, and I take note of the absence of any noise. I glance out the window—still no sign of my father. Oddly, I don't feel anger or anxiety, just a strange sense of relief. But then, reality settles in—I only have a week's worth of food left. If I ration it carefully, maybe I'll manage, but what happens when it runs out? "Calm down, Noah. It's only been one day, and at least you don't have to... endure that." A sense of empowerment surges through me, bolstering my spirits. "Hey, that's right. Screw him," I declare, heading to the kitchen to grab a few more crackers. But in my haste, I consume almost three days' worth of food. "Aw man," I sigh, familiar pangs of hunger gnawing at me. I settle on the old couch, staring at the wall, uncertainty creeping in.A knock shatters my trance, and I jolt off the couch, startled. "Oh shit, is he home?" Panic tinges my thoughts, but I quickly realize—it's not him. "Noah, open up!" The voice booms, and recognition dawns on me. "Theo?" I question, my gaze flicking to the clock—3:45 pm. Slowly, I open the door to find Noah on the other side, hand raised mid-knock. "Thank God you're okay," he exhales, pulling me into a hug. I tense momentarily before he lets go, his apology palpable. "Sorry, I was just worried when you didn't show up to school," he confesses, glancing at the ground before meeting my eyes. "Why weren't you at school?" he inquires, genuine concern evident. "Are you okay?" he rushes out before I can respond. "Yes, I just overslept," I reply, trying to seem casual despite my racing heart. Doubt flickers across his features. "Are you sure you're okay?" he persists. "Yes, I'm sure," I assure him, hoping my eyes convey the truth. He pushes his way inside, then realizes his misstep, hastily correcting himself. "Yes, please, just come in," I offer sarcastically, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. He stammers an apology, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Umm..." I hesitate, torn between letting him in and worrying about my dad's return. But he's already inside, right? Still, my heart races at the thought of my dad coming home and finding someone here. "Sure," I finally decide, closing the door behind him."It's not much, I know..." I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper as he wanders around the house. He proceeds down the hallway, and a sense of urgency wells up. "Wait!" I call out as he enters my room. I hurry inside, eyeing the familiar surroundings—my small bed, the stains on the floor, the cracked mirror on the wall. His mouth falls open, like a fish out of water. His gaze fixates on the large red stain, a visual testament to the nightmare that had consumed me. When he shifts his gaze to me, his voice quivers as he utters, "I'm so sorry." His arms envelop me, his warmth a lifeline in the darkness. "I'm so sorry," he repeats, and I take solace in his embrace, allowing myself a moment of respite from my agony. "Are you hungry?" he asks, and my stomach grumbles in response. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckles. Guiding me by my arm, he leads me to his car. "Where are we going?" I inquire, my mix of fear and excitement casting a dizzying spell. "We're going to get burgers."