Shadows of the Past

"Are we almost there?" Thomas asked his mother and father. He heard his dad laugh and he pouted. His mom looked back at him with a cheerful smile, taking Thomas' hand and squeezing. Thomas relaxed a little and squeezed back; it was their silent gesture of 'I love you' since the young boy struggled to express himself verbally.

"We're still a little ways away, sweetheart, but we'll be there soon. Did you bring your book?" Thomas nodded vigorously and showed his mother his copy of 'The Tales of Brothers Grimm'. His eyes lit up as she gave him a proud smile and took the book, opening it up to where they had left off the night before."Oh, good job Thomas! Now, relax and mummy will read to yo-"

Without warning, Thomas heard his mother scream and his father yanked on the steering wheel in an attempt veer away from an obstacle that Thomas could see, and then they were being smashed into. Thomas screamed in fear and covered his face as glass splintered and shattered into the back seat, the front of the car collapsing in on itself compacting together. Thomas' legs were crushed and he wailed in pain. They were definitely broken. He struggled to twist around so that he could see his mother and father, and immediately regretted it. His mother lay limp back against her seat, glass embedded in her chest and blood dripping from her broken body onto the floor. His father was slumped forward, glasses askew and broken like his bones, his body twisted unnaturally. The sight of his parents' mangled, bloody bodies made the poor boy faint.

Thomas clutched the sides of the toilet emptied the contents of his stomach into it. His arms trembled and he gasped for air before throwing up again, the vision of his parents were burned into his mind, tears rolling down his face as he started to sob. He still felt sick to his stomach as he collapsed onto the floor, which was thankfully very clean due to his insistence, and clutched his knees to his chest. He hid his face in them and tried to take deep, relaxing breaths as the taste of bile and vomit burned the back of his throat. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, tears still trickling down and his body jerking with choked sobs and hiccups. He shook and tried to control his breathing. He felt trapped, like the walls were slowly closing in on him and the air in his lungs was thickening and turning to mud, stopping him from breathing. He leaned against the wall again, eyes wide in terror as he struggled to breathe and gain control again, try to bat away the walls and the sounds of breaking glass and screaming.

"Thomas? Are you alright?" Bea called through the lavatory door, startling the man. He quickly wiped his eyes and stood, years of suppressing his emotions allowing him to force his tears to stop.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute." He went over to the small sink in the corner and started to wash out his mouth, grimacing as the taste continued to linger.

"Are you sure, sweetie? I thought I heard you getting sick. If you need to go home-"

"No!" Thomas cut her off quickly, his fists clenching in anxiety. Going home meant driving, getting in a car. He couldn't do that, not right now. He would be fine later, as soon as he got himself together. In a calmer voice, he addressed his lover again. "No. I think I just had something bad for breakfast, I feel much better now. Thank you for worrying, though," he finished, splashing his face with cold water so Bea wouldn't be able to tell he had been crying and stepping out. He was greeted by a very concerned Bea, who cupped his face in her hands almost as soon as he stepped out.

"Were you crying? Your eyes are red," Bea said softly, caressing Thomas' cheek with her hand. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he resisted the urge to lean into her touch. He gave her a reassuring smile and shook his head.

"No, I'm alright. Let's not keep the customers waiting." He gave her a quick kiss and squeezed her hand once before going to attend to the customers. Bea watched Thomas carefully as he interacted with the customers and helped them find what they needed. He seemed much tenser, and his smile was forced more than usual. Bea felt a nagging in the back of her mind to talk to Thomas again, but she decided against it. He would never forgive her if she embarrassed him in front of the customers. Thomas, meanwhile, cheered up slowly as the day went on, busying himself with finding the perfect toy for a young child or helping a clueless parent find exactly what they needed. It felt nice to be useful, something he hadn't been accustomed to in his early life. Just like every day, Thomas was sad when closing time came but ready to go home and relax. He locked up and slung an arm around Bea's shoulders, smiling in satisfaction as they walked out of the store. Thomas ignored the growing dread in his stomach as they approached the truck. He opened Bea's door for her before getting into the seat to drive.