The Curse of Thelonious [✓]

twenty nine

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, the howling wind dispersing it further and further. Golden flames rose high, consuming all around them. There was a scream, loud and clear until it blended into the roaring of the fire. A quiet sobbing echoed across the chaos and then it stopped, stark silence in comparison.

Atlas couldn't move.

His body appeared to be frozen. He could hear the shrieking of the family but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move to help them. His feet were heavy, as though they had been glued onto the singed carpet. He tried not to think about it but the way his body was forced still was reminding him of the dream he'd had on the cliff-side. It seemed light years away but that was the day Atlas had realised his dreams were more than just made up scenarios in his head. They meant something. They were real.

Atlas was cold.

The thin black hairs on his arms rose against the breeze, despite the smoke dancing around him. Amber streaks swirled around his body but they didn't touch him and he couldn't feel a thing. The fire seemed to twist around him, as though he was barely there.

"That's because you're not there," sang a familiar haunting voice, echoing around his body.

He tried to spin around to catch sight of the source but it was no use, he was immobile. "It's just a dream, darling," his mother's voice spoke again, quieter this time as though something was stifling it. "Almost just a dream..."

Atlas wanted to close his eyes, to escape and wake but he couldn't. All he could do was watch helplessly as the family burnt to death inside the beautiful home, the outer frame of the house falling apart slowly. There was a weak cry of the child before it faded completely as she watched her older sibling fall to the ground. The back of the boys head seemed familiar but Atlas couldn't place it, too focused on the parallels with his own life. With a sinking heart, he thought back to when he had watched his mother die in front of him as a young child. Although he had been young and couldn't really remember too much of it, he knew exactly what had happened. This was similar, too similar. 

A panic rose inside him, fear spreading through his bones as he finally put together the pieces of the puzzle. He recalled who the boy was and now understand why he was seeing it. The Thornton's.

"Oh God," he thought in panic, his limbs trembling ever so slightly as he thought back to his anger the previous day. "What have I done?"

Before he could mull the idea over in his mind, the image began to fade, growing lighter and lighter until all he could see was the deepest black. With a frown on his face, sleep overtook his worn out body.

---

Lera woke in a good mood, the sun was shining bright against the blue curtains fluttering against the morning light. She lay in bed for a while, a small smile painted across her face until she finally pulled herself up. Her voice rang as she hummed to herself whilst getting ready, twisting her curls into a bun at the base of her neck and slicking her baby-hairs down.

Her smile faded as she looked over to Atlas - mumbling in his sleep. His skin was paler than she'd ever seen it before and his closed eyelids were almost mauve. His inky hair was standing up on edge, as though he had been tossing and turning all night.

Atlas obviously hadn't slept well and although she was worried why, she pushed it out of her mind. Padding softly against the bedroom, she pulled his thin duvet up from where it was lying, tangled against his legs and left him to get some obviously needed sleep.

"Morning, mum," she mumbled through a yawn when she had stumbled downstairs. Lera stretched, her limbs clicking as she flicked the kettle on to make a cup of tea.