Chapter 6: What Was Okay?

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Chapter 6: What Was Okay?

“Trey, wake up.”

He felt his body being shaken, but at the same time, he didn’t want to move. It was as if all his energy had faded, leaving his limbs heavy as bricks, and his head smothered underneath thousands of roaring oceans. He tried moving, tried opening his eyes, but the dark comfort of sleep rendered him unable to move. He needed the rest, drew back to it, feeling a slight sticky stuff keeping him bound to his bed, or wherever he was.

“Come on, get up.”

Trey felt the prodding again, and finally opened his eyes, if anything to see what was disrupting his sleep. And he saw the foot of his Dad standing over him, and saw that he was lying on the kitchen floor, albeit, a lot redder than he had remembered.

“Dad?” he weakly muttered, none of this making sense to him.

He saw his dad bend down over him, grab his shoulder and begin to pull him up. Knowing what he was supposed to do, Trey pushed himself off the ground, his arms barely able to get himself to a sitting position. As he did so, he saw the sights everywhere, the broken table, the shattered dishes, and the scattered silverware. And as his eyes gazed from one piece of wreckage to another, he kept his sights high, knowing subconsciously what lied beneath him.

This wasn’t a nightmare. No, this was a reality. One he couldn’t just sleep away. He reached up to touch his hair, feeling some kind of sticky substance in it. And as he pulled away, he saw the dark red fragments that made him shiver. He stood up, leaning against the stove for support, feeling like he was about to keel over at any second. But as he did so, he saw the floor, the once nice tile covered by red, and two imprints clearly visible. One from his dad as he nearly took his last breath, and then beside it, his own outline, from where he passed out.

He remembered it all.

His vision began spinning, his stomach did knots, and his ears began ringing. This was all too much for him. Knowing the feeling in his stomach, he ran to the trashcan, which had been knocked over, and didn’t make it there a second too soon.

He threw up.

And as the stomach acid stuck to his teeth, he couldn’t get the images out of his mind fast enough. He tasted the pain, the gore, and the sights of his dad on the ground, bleeding, crying in pain, and nearly dying.

He continued heaving the rest of the contents of his stomach, wanting to expel it all, get rid of the memories, banishing that reality into the dark trashcan, put it down, and then go on with life as usual.

But as he felt his dad gently rub his back, there was nothing else that he could do.

He wondered how this happened, how a day of things going perfectly right could go so wrong so fast. He was excited to make the track team, to ace the math test, to even get a date for the dance Friday night; but then, when he got home, none of that matter.

The memories rushed through his mind again, of Ashley taken, of his Dad nearly killed right in front of him, and of his own cowardess, only sitting back and letting it all happen. Could he have saved them if he moved sooner? Was that why he had his powers, to do something good, to save his family. Or was he just a coward, someone who hid. He had to be given these gifts for a reason, and when it came time to do something beyond just having fun, he choked.

He continued coughing, trying to get out the last bits of pain and guilt, but as he did so, nothing else came up. His stomach turned, waiting to produce something else, trying harder with each heave, but it was still empty.

“It’s okay,” Trey heard, though this only made him cry more. What was okay?

He stood there for a minute; trying to breathe steadily, keep his stomach in order. But he didn’t pull away from the trashcan; afraid he’d need it again. Though he put the trashcan down, and moved over to the chair and sat down, his head spinning way too much to stay standing.

“You better now?” his dad said kneeling down beside him. Trey looked him in the eye, sure he had to look like a mess, tears in his eyes, something covering his chin, and blood at least in his hair, and probably elsewhere too. But Trey didn’t dare think about how his dad looked, how such a strong, and confident man could look so beaten. His suit was torn, and covered in blood. His hair was disheveled, eyes weak and tired.

Trey only nodded to the question, knowing that he was far from better, but if anything this was progress. He could look across the room without wanting to pass out, though he looked away from all the carnage along the floor.

“Thanks for saving me,” his dad said, raising his hand to where the wound was in his chest. “If you didn’t come when you did, I could have died.”

“I wanted to help,” Trey said softly, the first words to come out of his mouth since waking up. He didn’t exactly remember what happened. When Zack left, he just knew he had to do something, and somehow his courage overcame his fear. He wanted to help the whole time, he truly did. But he could only help his dad recover instead of doing something to stop the injuries to begin with.

“And you did. We need to get cleaned up though, and then I’ll answer your questions.”

“Okay,” he said, not thinking about any questions now. Sure he had them, somewhere in the back of his mind, but for now, all he could focus on was the blood, and the sights of his dad on the ground nearly dying and his sister being taken.

“Can you get up to your room?”

Trey shrugged, amazed that he managed to walk the few feet to the chair. He wasn’t sure if he could make it across the room, much less across the house and up the stairs.

“Come here then,” his dad said bending down, and taking Trey into his arms. As he was carried across the house, Trey wondered how many years it had been since he had last been carried like this. It was one thing to fall asleep in the car when he was a kid, but now he was 16 years old. Still, he was far too tired for his masculinity to protest. He could only hold on and rest in his dad’s embrace until he was sat down on his bed.

The softness of the blankets under him made him nearly instantly fall asleep. But before he succumbed, he felt the bloodstained shirt being pulled off his body, and thought he heard some voices as he faded into sleep.

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