All Your Fates (Currently editing/updating)

Chapter 27: Blast from Another Past ~ Tom Liljeholm

Part Two of Three written by Tom Liljeholm

DAVID's POV

Mum walked me up to my room, and as we made our way up the stairs she leaned in on me as to tell me a secret and whispered, “We’ve kept your room exactly the way you left it. We knew you’d come back.”

I smiled at her and I could see how much she appreciated it.

When we reached my room, mum opened up the door for me and stood aside for me to step in. What I saw confused me a bit. The room was spotlessly clean. Pristine. Hadn’t she just said that they had left it as it was when he had left? If there was one thing that I would admit about myself, it would be that I didn’t exactly keep the tidiest of habitats. I could never be bothered with picking the dirty socks up and putting them in a basket. Making the bed had never seemed to make much sense either. It was just going to be a mess again the next morning anyhow. 

But this place was quite unlike any that I had ever stayed. The books in the shelf had been alphabetically ordered. There were perfectly aligned stacks of paper at a patinated wooden desk, and everything just screamed order.

Still, I felt strangely at home as my mum made my bed with clean sheets and hugged me good night. But the feeling vanished as soon as she had gone. If my mother reminded me of my true origin, the room played quite the opposite part. 

I walked over to the window -- trailing the bland wallpaper with my index finger. I looked out the window to find that it faced the back yard.

There was not much of notice outside the window. There was no pool, no trampoline, no playhouse. It didn’t seem like a place where a kid could run around and play. Besides a toolshed and a cellar door, the only thing that caught the eye was six small crosses positioned perfectly outside my window. 

I felt a searing pain in the back of my neck and had to support myself against the window ledge. Then came another attack. And in a flash of bright lightning I saw myself burying the cat in one of the graves below, my father peering at me angrily.

When the flashback was over I found myself lying flat on the floor. What the fuck had just happened? I got up as gracefully as I could manage and took another look out the window. Nothing had changed. So the crosses outside my window was graves? That’s uplifting... 

As tired as I was, I realized that there was nothing that would convince my brain to sleep at this point. This house was not a place that I’d ever want to live, and still – I was sure I was here for a reason.

I turned around and headed out from my room. I could hear a soft sobbing when I came out in the corridor. I tracked the sound to a door further down the hall. Gently, I swung the door open and stepped in. 

Martin was sitting on his bed. He had changed out of his clothes and into pajamas that seemed a bit too big for him. “Did you inherit those from me?” I inquired.

It took a split second before I realized how what I asked must sound. Stupid, stupid David! If it’s your old pajamas, you’d know about it. 

Martin didn’t seem to notice though. Instead he lit up into a big smile and nodded eagerly.

“Did I hear someone crying in here?” I asked. 

Martins smile died off quickly and he shook his head, looking down on the floor.

“It’s ok. I’m your brother, right? You can tell me anything.” I prompted. I needed to know what was going on, why I was here. 

Martin investigated my face for a while before he said: “It’s just... I... I don’t like it when dad gets angry with me.”

My heart bled for the little guy.