⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ACT ONE ⇢ Sucker Punch.
PART ONE, Ted Bundy and his Tiny Prick
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FADE IN: SCENE ONE
DAY ONE—5:14 PM
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CARRIS MERRYWEATHER, in stark contrast to her name, was a vindictive bitch. This could have something to do with the fact that her husband, Ted (who bore a striking resemblance to the renowned serial killer who shared his name) was fucking his receptionist. It had taken Tommy a grand total of twelve days to be transferred from their care. A new personal record. He had achieved this by breaking every single piece of fine china they owned. So, here he was, being driven by his social worker to his newest family.
He silently reminded himself that he'll only be there for a month (maybe less). This was something he reminded himself of often. It was easier to get kicked out on his own merit than to be kicked to the curb once he started to actually feel comfortable. At least, that's how he justified it.
"They're very kind people." His social worker stated, who, in all honesty, was a saint. He knew it wasn't her fault that he was in the Foster system. However, that didn't stop him from harbouring a deep-seated resentment towards her. "I'm sure you'll get along with the other two boys"
Oh, Right. Two boys lived in the house already, they were older than him and he wasn't sure by exactly how much. He didn't really care either.
Tom slipped into a state of nothingness— zoning out the world as he stared out the window. He didn't bother to reply to his social worker, Helen. After an undetermined amount of time had passed, the car stopped, and Helen turned to Tommy.
"Please make an effort this time, I know it's hard but I really think this one will be different,"her saccharine brown eyes stared into his blue ones. He didn't exactly say anything but made a noise of agreement.
He wanted to stay here, in this eternal state of limbo. He didn't want to meet another fucking family who'd string him along just long enough for it to hurt. They'd get just close enough to stab the knife into him— and he'd be too fucking distracted by the prospect of affection to notice. That was how it always happened, well, unless he got kicked out himself. Regardless, he couldn't just stay here, in a car that's just a tad too nice for a mere social worker to be driving. So, when Helen got out of the car he had no choice but to follow.
knock, knock, knock
He took these final instances of freedom to study the house that loomed over him. It was two stories tall, but it was quite small (not that it's size bothered him). It was more of a cottage than a house—he accredited the flora and fauna splayed around the exterior for the distinct cottage vibe. In all honesty, he quite enjoyed the homey fee— The door swung open.
"Hello! Helen!" The blonde man stood greeting them kindly, "and you must be Thomas"
God, how he wanted to smash his skull against the house in front of him "Its Tommy,"
"Okay, Tommy, Helen, come on in," he moved to the side to let the two into the quaint home "Its just us right now but the boys will be here later" Helen and Phil started talking about something and Tommy didn't care enough to actually pay attention to
"Yeah so... I think that's it" Helen broke Tommy out of his thoughts "Tommy, I'll go get the rest of your things and then be off."
Silence...
"So... I'll let you get settled in, don't wanna overwhelm you today" the man smiled at Tommy "Techno and Wilbur will be here in an hour or so, your room is the second door on the left upstairs, I can show you I—"
"I'll figure it out," and with that Tommy ventured off.
He stumbled up the mahogany stairs and into the second door on the left. Tommy stepped into his new room (which was lit only by the sunset through the leaves). The room was composed of four walls—alike most rooms—that were painted a wistful beige tone. It had a bed, desk and bookshelf, but other than that, it was a clean slate. One which Tommy could mold his personality onto. A blank canvas. There was something so ominous about the emptiness of the room. The loneliness of it all—not that loneliness was something so foreign to Tom—was so off putting.
He took a step towards the window and used his arm to prop it open and leaned out slightly. It looked like he could get a footing onto the roof of the house. He made a mental note to explore that when he had a bit more freedom. So, instead of doing anything or setting up the room he reached into his bag and grabbed his iPod and headphones.
The familiar tune of Age of Consent thrummed through his headphones; as the first of the lyrics sounded Tommy, not so gracefully, fell (or rather, flopped) onto the bed. The song played once, then twice, then a third time... The song kept playing even as Tommy slowly drifted into a state of dreamless sleep...
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CUT TO: SCENE TWO
DAY ONE—8:23 PM
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THE ROOM WAS NOW DREARY, sunlight no longer shone through the leaves. Rain splattered against the window and New Order's Age of Consent still droned quietly through cheap plastic headphones. Tommy, now fully awake, does a double take and looks around the room, momentarily forgetting he was somewhere new. This situation was something Tommy knew all too well... waking up somewhere he clearly didn't belong. Sadly, momentarily didn't last seemingly long enough, as he remembered why he was here, he remembered getting driven here. He remembered his social workers words, her pleads for him to try. As if trying was an option, as if being anything other than cold and distant didn't mean weakness.
This was all so familiar, the metallic taste in his mouth. The anger; the resentment. He didn't have time for this feeling, so instead of revelling in it for a moment longer he internalized it and went to check the time.
8:23, his ipod screen nearly blinded him. Fuck. He'd slept for three whole hours. Meaning, the two other inhabitants of this house had gotten here two hours ago. Soon, he heard footsteps outside his door; the door slowly drawled open. Along with a lanky blonde man, Phil, the sent of cookies and burnt coffee wafted in.
"Oh" Phil went on "you're awake!"
"y..yeah" Tommy swiftly turned off the music and shoved the iPod and headphones into his pocket.
"I just came to check on you, the boys and I made cookies and tea... and coffee but that didn't really turn out well" the man let out a hearty laugh "Come on down and meet them."
"Oh... okay can you give me a moment first"
"Alright— I'll be downstairs, come down whenever you're ready." The door closed and Tommy took a deep breath. He waited until he couldn't hear footsteps anymore and then ventured out of the room.
"Only a month." He quietly murmured to himself. Running a frail hand through his messy hair, catching on a knot or two. Then, Tommy trudged downstairs to go meet his new 'family.'
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CUT TO: SCENE THREE
DAY ONE—8:31
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"SO WHAT WAS HIS NAME AGAIN, THOMAS? He's coming down right?" A skeptical and condescending voice boomed through the living room. The room was warm and all the lights had a yellow and homely tint to them.
"Tommy," Phil corrected the voice "He should be down shortly."
There were three people in the kitchen when tommy stepped in. A tall boy with fluffy brown hair, a slightly shorter one with strands of pink in his, and Phil. The pink haired boy was the first to turn and see him.
"Oh, hello there." The boys voice was deep and gravelly, unlike the one he heard earlier.
"Tommy, would you like a cup of tea?" Phil offered
"err.. sure?" it sounded more like a question than an answer
"Milk, Sugar?"
"both."
"Hello Thomas" The voice from earlier spoke, it was the boy with fluffy brown hair.
"Its Tommy"
"Ah, okay."
"So" Phil clapped his hands together "Lets get to know each other, Will, Techno, this is Tommy. Tommy, this is Wilbur, or will, and this is techno."
"What odd names"
"Will likes music, do you play any instruments?" Phil quickly interjects, he clearly wasn't going to address the oddity of their names.
"Nope," Tommy replies popping the P
"Techno likes literature, do you like to read?"
"No"
"So, what do you like..?"
"Nothing."
Will scoffed "Nothing, really? Hows that even possible."
"Im not sure, I mean it seems pretty possible seeing as, I well, exist"
"What do you do to pass the time then."
"Deal with losers, apparently."
"I—" the kettle squeaking, rather obnoxiously broke the moment.
"You were listening to music earlier, what kind of music do you like" Phil was now desperately looking for something to talk about.
"I listen to a lot of things"
"Like?" Wilbur seemed a bit too excited to mock his taste in music.
"New Order" Tommy deadpanned.
"Yikes did your dad show you them? Oh, Wait..."
Tommy was mainly unfazed by the snide comment, "And what d'you listen to, William?"
"I doubt you've heard of them."
"Jesus Christ, get a personality, Man." He goes on incredulously, "Like, seriously, what the actual fuck, I doubt you've heard of them" His voice went higher at the last part, he enunciated every word.
"Aright! Thats enough, How about you go and practice guitar, wilbur"
"But— you know what? fine" and with that Will stormed out, leaving a hot cup of tea behind.
DISSOLVE TO BLACK:
TL;DR Tommy and big man Will have a pissing contest!! Anyway, thanks for reading and don't forget to vote if you enjoyed :) or dont issok if you don't, lol.