The Boy in the Black Hoodie

Chapter Forty-Nine

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Carson's POV

Darren knocked on the door to our room at around noon, shaking me from my dazed state. It was a nervous, unsure knock, from what I could tell. I could read things incredibly well, that I had figured out. Perhaps what gave me this ability was the time I had spent sitting alone in all of those dark and silent rooms, motionlessly waiting for someone to burst inside and unleash all of hell on me. I had learned, from those days, how to interpret the movements and sounds of a person without seeing them. Darren clearly needed something. Information, maybe. Either that or he had some sort of bad news. I hoped for the former. How I knew the person at the door was Darren, well, I had his footsteps pretty much memorized.

"You can come in, dude," I said, slipping my pistol back into my jacket so I wouldn't raise suspicion. I kept my knives in my hands, everyone knew I needed those.

Darren stepped into the room, looking surprisingly calm. I stood from my chair at Trey's bedside. The boy was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling steadily.

"What's up?" I asked.

His eyes darted around the room. They rested a moment on Trey before moving to the ground. He stared awkwardly at his feet for several seconds.. "I, uh, just wanted to check in with you guys, I guess."

I scratched the back of my neck, internally debating whether or not to tell him about the emails. Probably not. "Trey's fine," I said, smoothing the sheets around the younger boy's body. "It's taking him a while to get used to everything, but he'll pull through."

"I've always meant to ask you that," Darren told me, a small frown of confusion crossing his face. "About getting used to things, I mean. Aren't you just happy to be away from everything you went through?"

I grinned, though I felt a tiny pinprick of pain stab my chest. "It's really complicated. When you've lived your entire life like I have, it's impossible to just become...normal. Abuse is all you know, all you've ever known. And all of a sudden you're completely free? It's like moving Vostok Station to Death Valley; you can't adapt to the change. It's so incredible, yet so impossible. For a while it feels as if you're dreaming, floating through this magical fantasy that could be snatched away at any moment. It's still kind of scary for me, actually. I may never get used to it."

Darren narrowed his eyes in interest. "I couldn't tell."

A hissed a small breath of relief. "Good," I said. "You're not supposed to."

"You hide a lot of things, Carson," he said quietly. 

I smiled sadly, tapping my fingers against the flat of my knife. It was true, there were a lot of things I never spoke about. But I had my reasons, as I was sure many others with secrets did. "I have to," I decided to say, choosing my words carefully. I paused for a moment before continuing in a more reserved tone. "I conceal these things from myself, Darren, not just from you."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid. I'm so damn afraid." I leaned on my shaking elbows and ran my hands through my hair. I always did that when I was talking about things like this, and I needed to stop.

You're weak, Paul's voice whispered menacingly in my head. His face clouded all of my thoughts, consuming whatever cognizance that remained. I tried to get him to leave, but it was to no avail. The words continued coming. That's all it is. You're weak and pathetic and worthless.

"Carson?" It was Darren's voice this time. I blinked once. Twice. Shook my head. Blinked again. Paul was gone, replaced by my friend. "You okay?"