the alternatives ⇒ tmr trilogy & newtmas au ⇒ COMPLETED

Chapter Three

Thomas stood in front of the old, white rotary phone and fished the scrap of paper out of his pocket.  He couldn't hold back a small smile when he saw the scrawled words.  A shaky hand began to input the numbers on the phone. 

Once he finished, Thomas put an ear to the speaker and listened to the what seemed like infinite ringing. 

"Thomas!" a shrill screech awakened him from his euphoric daze.

His mother was home.

"Who ya yappin' to on the phone, honey?" Thomas's mother hollered.  She met Thomas's eyes, sending a chill down his spine.

"Hello?" a faint voice on the other side of the phone said, yet Thomas barely heard it.

His mother was a petite woman with the same brown hair and eyes as Thomas.  But, unlike him, she had a fiery temper and could get angry in an instant.  Thomas had lived in fear of her since the incident with his brother.

Lightly placing the phone down on the table, Thomas shakily backed away from his mother.  She smirked, an evil-looking expression that gave Thomas goosebumps.  Her face was inching closer to his, flashes of insanity flickering in her eyes.  Thomas put a hand, slick from sweat, on the table to steady himself.

"You have friends?" his mother cackled.

And then, like a taught wire, he snapped.

"Yes, Mother, I do have friends.  But why would you care?  You don't care about anything.  Nothing at all.  So why don't you back away, nice and calm.  And from now on, cool it."

For a second, Thomas's mother looked hurt.  And for a second, Thomas felt bad.  But as the words slowly dawned on his mother, she looked at her son.  Her mouth slowly opened, and Thomas hoped for an apology.

"You ungrateful little..." she screamed, and with a quick, fleeting motion, slapped him across the face.

Thomas clutched his burning cheeks and cried out.  Tears erupted from his eyes and streamed down his face.

"I've never liked you, and I never will.  Get out of my house." his mother ordered with maddening defiance.

And once more, Thomas ran.

But this time he wasn't coming back.
...
Thomas couldn't find the Alternatives.  He had looked everywhere.  He should have never left their side.  Losing hope fast, Thomas entered a park, empty in the dead of night.  He scanned the premises and found a sullen Newt sitting on a bench, alone.

He had never been happier to see someone, even if he had only known him for a day.

"How's it goin', Tommy?" Newt asked as Thomas plopped down on the bench beside him.  "And why are you out in the middle of the bloody night again?"

"My Old Lady's been givin' me problems again." Thomas sighed.  "I tried to stand up for myself, but she went ape on me."

"Parent issues, huh?" Newt perked up.  Thomas remembered what Minho had said; not to mention Newt's personal life.  Even if he was curious, he wouldn't want to disrespect the boys and feel the wrath of Minho.

"Yeah.  It's been goin' on since forever." Thomas explained.

The boys were silent for a moment.

"What does she bloody do to ya that makes you all depressed?" Newt wondered aloud.

"I'm not depressed." Thomas said plainly.

"Yeah you are, slinthead.  You aren't the curious little shank ya were this morning." stated Newt.

"I'm tired, that's why." Thomas wouldn't look directly at him, deflecting the question.

"Bloody hell.  Just tell me.  I'll... understand." Newt pushed.

Thomas finally gave in.  "My mother hits me.  With whatever she can find lying around the house.  And... and..."

"Get with the words, Tommy."

"She makes me feel like it's my fault.  Like I'm a disappointment to her, even though it's her doing the wrongs."

Newt looked at Thomas with deep sympathy as he said, "We've both gotta get through it, and we'll bloody get through it together.  Read me?"

"I just want her to pay her dues." Thomas admitted.  "Revenge is coming her way."

The older boy nodded and noticed the pain still laced through Thomas's shaky voice.  "Wanna crash at my place?" Newt asked Thomas. "It's not much of a 'place', just where I get my shuck beauty rest."

Thomas laughed.  "Sure, thanks."

He stood up and immediately heard the sound of glass crunching beneath his feet.  The faint moonlight didn't help to identify what it was, but Newt answered his question.

"Beer bottles.  That's why I was out in the bloody town, stealin' some brew."

"You stole it?" Thomas raised his eyebrows, shocked.

"Does it look like I have any shucking money?" Newt snorted.

The two boys exited the park and took a pattern of back roads to arrive at Newt's sleeping spot.  Once they were about halfway there, a loud siren began to blare, making the boys cover their ears with their hands.

"What the shuck?" Newt yelled to be heard over the endless wailing.

"I think it's coming from over there." Thomas pointed to bright lights contrasting against the pitch black of the sky.

"We gotta bloody go check it out." Newt cut through the dense forest, pushing trees aside to clear a path for him and Thomas.  Thomas didn't have a better plan, so he followed Newt.

The old, dilapidated house in which the sirens were coming from was Thomas's.

"That's my house." he whispered, awe-struck.  "Why..."

"There's three bloody cop cars." Newt reported, just as surprised as Thomas was.  "Did they bust ya for somethin'?"

"I've never committed a crime in my life." Thomas told Newt.

"Such a shuck Greenie." Newt commented with an eye roll.

Continuing the route to the crime scene, the two boys were deeply frightened.  They had no source of light except for the red and blue police car lights, which didn't provide much.

They clambered past the last tree and stepped out into the open, frigid air.  The scene was finally coming into view. 

Thomas's mother was handcuffed and being questioned by the police.

Thomas gasped.  This whole scene was unreal.  His mother, finally getting what she deserved.

But then why did he feel so guilty?

Newt looked at him with wide eyes and smiled.  He held his palm up for a high five, but Thomas stalked away, towards his home, ignoring his friend.  Newt dropped his hand back to his side.

Thomas neared his mother.  He stole a quick look at her, then at the policeman holding her captive.  She struggled to free herself, but the man's meaty fists tightly grasped her shoulders.

"That's him!" Thomas's mother shrieked.  "That's my son!"

"Is it true that you beat up your mother every day?" another policeman asked, notepad and pencil in hand.

"What?" Thomas yelled in frustration.  His mother must have told the police lies.  Lies upon lies.

When the policeman questioned, "Are you admitting to it?", Thomas exploded in fiery rage.

"She's the monster!  She's the one to arrest!  Please, can't someone take my side for once?" Thomas ripped his throat raw.  Sheer emotion bombarded his speech.  Pure anger slithered through his every vein.

The policemen looked at each other with indecipherable glances, and the one confining Thomas's mother gave him a dead stare.

"Arrest him."