Chapter 3- Impossible

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Cate Blanchett will be a Hiddleston sister in this story because why not? 

"Tom," My sister sighs as soon as I enter the house, "I got a call from your Physics teacher this morning. Are you still being bullied?"

"Does a bird have wings?" I muse sarcastically. "Does Robert Pattinson regret his role in Twilight? Of course, Cate! It never stopped!"

"I'm just trying to help-,"

"No, you're trying to intervene." I take a deep breath and pick up an apple from the fruit bowl. I don't eat much anymore. "And this caring act you're playing, its stupid," My eyes brim with angry tears "Lord, if you want me gone so badly, why don't you just kick me out?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't bullshit me. You left the papers lying around like they were magazines, Cate! Responsibility of Thomas William Hiddleston consentually suspended. Gee, thanks! I'll take my bloody leave."

When I'm angry, I sound like a character from Downton Abbey, it's horrid.

I turn and attempt to storm out of the door but my nephews are cowering in the hallway.

I halt and smile sadly at them.

"Uncle Tom?"

"Everything is going to be alright," I whisper, cursing the tears that drip down my chin. "Go upstairs and play, yeah?" Cate scoffs.

"Tom, this is fucking ridiculous. You're being impossible-,"

"Oh, that's ironic," I spit, spinning around to face her again. "I'm so bloody impossible, you can't cope with it. Is that why you don't want me?" I accuse.

I hate the way my voice shakes.

"Tommy," Cate begins but I see the way her aqua eyes flicker to the ground in deliberate hesitation.

"Am I really that bad?" I hush, scoffing in disbelief. "Wow. I don't mean to be such an inconvenience. I'll just fucking go!"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Thomas. It's just so hard! I'm twenty-four and I may as well be a mother of three."

"No, you're a mother of two. And you wouldn't be if you had kept your legs closed."

"That's too far."

"And trying to get rid of me isn't?"

"Maybe it's for the best."

"Maybe," I agree. "And, you know, I guess getting rid of those fucking pills wasn't."

I don't stay long enough to see her reaction.

I think it would ruin everything if I did.

You see, I tried to kill myself last summer and it was hard on the entire family.

I guess I'm just selfish. Selfish and impossible.

I storm into my room and yank my duffel from underneath my bed. I haven't touched it in years, not since I came here from South London.

I haphazardly throw in some clothing, my books, photographs, blankets and a money box. Now that I'm temporarily homeless, I'll need every necessity I can get my hands on.

"Uncle Tommy, you can't leave." Jack whines, tugging at my shirt sleeve with the force of a butterfly. "I'll miss you."

"I know," I sigh, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. He is my oldest nephew of five years. "Give your brother sloppy kisses for me, okay? I love you, buddy."

"Sam would want you to give him sloppy kisses," Jack cries, refusing to let go of me. "You know they're his favorite things in the world!"

My heart swells and explodes into a million tiny pieces.

"I'll find you soon, Jack-man," I breathe. It takes every ounce of strength I don't have to pry his hands away from me and walk away from his desperate wails.


I race down the front steps and out into the street, sobs erupting from my throat. Old Lady Lena stares at me from her porch swing but makes no effort to help.

Paper in hand, I trudge down Maple Street, following the city road map on my phone. "23rd Avenue," I repeat like a mantra, stumbling over pebbles and bracing myself against the crowds that always seem to be against me.

I refuse to think about what will happen if I am rejected from this place.

I just continue walking; I continue hoping.

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