Roots [Completed]

Chapter 1 - Part 6

[The Saltwater Room by Owl City]

"Janey."

The whisper sounds so distantly that my eyes barely creak open. The room is still dark, from what I can see, and that means, sleep.

"Janey! Wake up!" The voice sounds again, more insistent this time.

I only open my eyes when the blanket is tugged off the edge of my bed.

Topher stands over my bed, fully dressed. My bedroom window is open behind him, and I know he did that strange thing where he seems to climb the house. He's very good at it. Blinking my eyes slowly, I take in the room, which is still too dark to see anything, and I tug at the blanket he still holds in his hand.

"Topher, it's too late to play," I protest with a yawn, "Go to bed."

Topher shakes his head and doesn't release my blanket.

"Janey, we have to run away. Tonight."

This is when I notice the backpack strapped to his back. It looks heavy, but he doesn't seem to notice it.

"Run away?" I blink blearily.

Topher lowers his eyes to me, more serious than I have ever seen him.

"I told my parents a bad thing," he whispers, panicked, "and I think they're going to take me away."

"Take you away?"

Topher nods. "But I won't go. I'm not leaving you."

"Did you," I say, panic waking me up, "did you tell them the werewolf secret?"

"No, they already knew that. They're like me, Janey," he sighs, slightly exasperated, before the fear comes to his eyes again.

"I told them a different secret that I've been keeping secret for a long long time. And they found this."

Suddenly, he pulls off the backpack and  unzips one of the pockets conspiratorially. Though I can barely see in the darkness, I recognize the comic that I gave him for his birthday. At least, what's left of it.

"They were really angry," he whispers, holding up two misshapen shreds of bright comic pages. The stretched arm of Mr. Fantastic is ripped in half, and it looks like several chunks of the paper are totally missing.

I put a hand on Topher's shoulder, expecting to see a quiver in his chin. I know that it would make me cry.

Instead, his forehead lowers into an expression of anger. "It's not fair." His whisper is harsh.

"They know I didn't choose, it's not fair. They think because you're human it's different, but it's not. I knew they wouldn't understand."

I take my hand away, confused. Is this because of me? Something I did?

"What did you tell them?" I ask quietly.

Topher opens his mouth to speak, but no noise comes out.

"What?" I whisper.

"I - I can't tell you," he stutters in response.

"Why not? I tell you my secrets."

"My dad told me not to," he says, a sour expression twisting his mouth. "But that's not important, Jane. We have to run away, tonight."

I take a moment to consider. A cold breeze comes in through the window and I shiver, looking at my warm bed enviously.

"I can't leave my mommies," I protest.

"You have to," Topher insists.

"Can't they come?"