The Fire That Sparked My Soul- Newtmas AU

Chapter Fifteen

♫ Afraid by The Neighbourhood

~I've got a Spotify playlist I've been making for this fic; there's songs from it and then there's ones I really like that haven't been included.They're songs I usually listen to when I'm reading a fic and they usually put me in the mood. If I were to make it public, would you listen to it? It'd probably be updated every so often because I'm always on the hunt for new and good music.

TW IN THIS CHAPTER

Newt's POV

TW

Several cuts on my arm mark my skin; there's ones from blades and other's from elastic bands I hide discreetly under my sleeves. The scars give me a sense of release. Something I've created myself. When I run my fingers over them, it feels lumpy, but also like they're a part of me.

Ever since I was beat up in school a month ago, I've had the urge to cut-to escape. It tears me apart slowly when I don't. My skin scratches and screams at me until I can't take it anymore.

I want out.

I want the prison in my mind let me have a taste of the free world. One where I'm not afraid. One where I can be who I am without being criticized every day.

TW

Sighing, I take an old drawing book from under my bed and grab a pencil, not caring whether it's blunt or not. I start to draw lines, doodling and dotting all over the paper. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but it feels right.

I've missed drawing. I used to draw all the time as a kid but ever since dad died...

I push those thoughts out my head as I continue to connect random lines, focusing on the shading of whatever this creative mess is supposed to be.

I don't realise the time until I notice the sun setting outside my bedroom window. It hits the walls of the other houses perfectly at this time of night just before it slips behind the roofs. The sky is a colour of pink with fluffy white clouds scattered about.

My eyes go back to the drawing I've completed-a rose.

Like mum's name, I think to myself. Dad used to tease her about it and buy her rose's on his way back from work, or he would buy her rose scented perfume for her birthday. Good times I can never have back.

I'm lucky enough to have those memories.

Thomas's dad is strict. He doesn't like the idea of two people of the same sex being together, which terrifies me. I don't know how Thomas can cope with him. He wants him to only be successful in PE, but I know Thomas is more than capable of achieving a high grade in biology and English.

I know he can do it if he puts his mind to it.

However, whenever Thomas has a competition for running, his father is always there screaming for him to 'push on' and win. I'm afraid that, one day, athletics will cause him a major injury.

I put my art supplies back under my bed and I promise myself I will paint tomorrow.

After taking a quick shower, I put on a pair of boxer's and a jumper then climb into bed.

It's not long before sleeps over powers my body and I let my eyes droop.

~~~
Tap tap tap,

There's a knocking noise coming from somewhere. I turn on to my other side and put my arm over my face, shielding any possible light keeping me awake.

Tap tap tap,

I groan and sit up. I almost scream when I see Thomas at my window, crouching on the window ledge. His face is tear stained and he looks freezing. I quickly open the window and let Thomas in.