The Darkness Before.
1
Sitting, cowering, things that a boy like Robert never did. He was not small, but didn't exactly bulge out under that blanket which he had encased himself in. The wind kicked up loosely and then died back down. His hair spiked up for a quick second in that gasp of wind, and then fell back without time for afterthought. His window was cracked, and if it wasn't for his fear of the dark, maybe he would have shut it. It's not really that he feared the dark, a sixteen year old boy wasn't supposed to fear things so small as such. It was that he feared what might grab him in the dark, and fear of that kept him wrapped up in his blanket, snuggling tightly to a dark brown pillow. He moved a little bit in his twin bed (but it wasn't quite a twin bed, it was in fact a bit bigger) and his underwear wedged up briefly, and he quickly pulled the leggings back down around his thighs. He relaxed, breathing in and out in that darkness which seemed eternal, that darkness that seemed to want to eat him whole. His phone vibrated dully in his hand beneath the pillow, and he pulled it out to face the white screen. It was a text, from who, it didn't matter, all that mattered was that it was a text that made that light (that light, oh that light, how it parted that darkness and made him feel so scared, scared to see the face, OH THAT FACE, in the corner of his room, something he could not quite stand to see). He viewed the text, not really viewing it, and then put his phone down, but not before seeing that the hour had crept to two in the morning. The wind blew in the window again, and as it did he uttered a small gasp and pulled the pillow tighter and closer towards him. The wind died back down again, as quickly as before, and Robert loosened his grip a little bit. His heart was beating frantically now, and he felt sweat beading on his forehead (But why Robbie, why oh WHY). The sweat was maybe there because of what he heard in the living room (but it wasn't really a living room was it Robs? No one has really LIVED in that house since daddy came home have they?), his parents were arguing quietly, about what he didn't know, but he was sure as hell going to know soon. He believed it quite a lot, since most of their arguments nowadays ended with his dad beating either him or his mother. The wind kicked up again, and Robert peaked over his pillow at the window. He saw a face, or maybe it was just an outline of a face, dully reflected on his window. His heart kicked up again, and he wheezed in and out as that face (or maybe it was just a shadow, there was no way it could be ALIVE) broke out into a grin. A jolly grin that said, "Hey Robbie, it's okay, I know the darkness is a bit scary but after I'm through with you you'll be so accustomed to the dark that you'll be able to sleep in it!" Sleep. Oh sleep, if anything sleep was what he wished would take him. Take him fast, and let him stay in that dream filled coma until the sun cracked through his window. He swept in more air through his nose, he was half-in, half-out of the world by this time, and his mouth was starting to get that acid taste of sleep in it when the wind picked up again. He moaned softly as his mind fluttered back into the world. His eyes tried to close again, but this time his mind would just not let him fall back asleep. He picked up his phone and looked into that dim light closely, catching the first digit (3) as he set it back down. Three in the morning, three, and yet he still couldn't fall asleep. His parents were quiet, but he could still hear their grumbling from the living (DEAD) room. He felt a bit grim and turned over on his bed again, this time feeling a slight pull in his groin as he did so. He had to pee, and he hadn't realized it until just now. He got up slowly and walked over to his bedroom door (which was cracked, and the light from the DEAD room illuminated his floor, oh that light) and opened it up.
He stepped into the hallway and walked into the bathroom which was the first door on his left. He turned on the light (OH THAT LIGHT) and walked to the toilet seat, but not before shutting and locking the door quickly behind him. He pulled up the toilet seat(s) and then dropped his boxers a little below his knees and cut loose. He wrapped up shortly after the ecstasy of having to pee badly rushed through him and then he flushed and walked out. Turning off the light behind him and not washing his hands of course, what teenage boy did when nobody was looking? He leaped into his bed after putting his door at a slight crack so the light barely got in, and then he pulled that brown pillow close to him. He fell asleep shortly after, and maybe he did dream, but none of his dreams were remembered... in fact, nothing about that deep sleep was.
1
Sitting, cowering, things that a boy like Robert never did. He was not small, but didn't exactly bulge out under that blanket which he had encased himself in. The wind kicked up loosely and then died back down. His hair spiked up for a quick second in that gasp of wind, and then fell back without time for afterthought. His window was cracked, and if it wasn't for his fear of the dark, maybe he would have shut it. It's not really that he feared the dark, a sixteen year old boy wasn't supposed to fear things so small as such. It was that he feared what might grab him in the dark, and fear of that kept him wrapped up in his blanket, snuggling tightly to a dark brown pillow. He moved a little bit in his twin bed (but it wasn't quite a twin bed, it was in fact a bit bigger) and his underwear wedged up briefly, and he quickly pulled the leggings back down around his thighs. He relaxed, breathing in and out in that darkness which seemed eternal, that darkness that seemed to want to eat him whole. His phone vibrated dully in his hand beneath the pillow, and he pulled it out to face the white screen. It was a text, from who, it didn't matter, all that mattered was that it was a text that made that light (that light, oh that light, how it parted that darkness and made him feel so scared, scared to see the face, OH THAT FACE, in the corner of his room, something he could not quite stand to see). He viewed the text, not really viewing it, and then put his phone down, but not before seeing that the hour had crept to two in the morning. The wind blew in the window again, and as it did he uttered a small gasp and pulled the pillow tighter and closer towards him. The wind died back down again, as quickly as before, and Robert loosened his grip a little bit. His heart was beating frantically now, and he felt sweat beading on his forehead (But why Robbie, why oh WHY). The sweat was maybe there because of what he heard in the living room (but it wasn't really a living room was it Robs? No one has really LIVED in that house since daddy came home have they?), his parents were arguing quietly, about what he didn't know, but he was sure as hell going to know soon. He believed it quite a lot, since most of their arguments nowadays ended with his dad beating either him or his mother. The wind kicked up again, and Robert peaked over his pillow at the window. He saw a face, or maybe it was just an outline of a face, dully reflected on his window. His heart kicked up again, and he wheezed in and out as that face (or maybe it was just a shadow, there was no way it could be ALIVE) broke out into a grin. A jolly grin that said, "Hey Robbie, it's okay, I know the darkness is a bit scary but after I'm through with you you'll be so accustomed to the dark that you'll be able to sleep in it!" Sleep. Oh sleep, if anything sleep was what he wished would take him. Take him fast, and let him stay in that dream filled coma until the sun cracked through his window. He swept in more air through his nose, he was half-in, half-out of the world by this time, and his mouth was starting to get that acid taste of sleep in it when the wind picked up again. He moaned softly as his mind fluttered back into the world. His eyes tried to close again, but this time his mind would just not let him fall back asleep. He picked up his phone and looked into that dim light closely, catching the first digit (3) as he set it back down. Three in the morning, three, and yet he still couldn't fall asleep. His parents were quiet, but he could still hear their grumbling from the living (DEAD) room. He felt a bit grim and turned over on his bed again, this time feeling a slight pull in his groin as he did so. He had to pee, and he hadn't realized it until just now. He got up slowly and walked over to his bedroom door (which was cracked, and the light from the DEAD room illuminated his floor, oh that light) and opened it up.
He stepped into the hallway and walked into the bathroom which was the first door on his left. He turned on the light (OH THAT LIGHT) and walked to the toilet seat, but not before shutting and locking the door quickly behind him. He pulled up the toilet seat(s) and then dropped his boxers a little below his knees and cut loose. He wrapped up shortly after the ecstasy of having to pee badly rushed through him and then he flushed and walked out. Turning off the light behind him and not washing his hands of course, what teenage boy did when nobody was looking? He leaped into his bed after putting his door at a slight crack so the light barely got in, and then he pulled that brown pillow close to him. He fell asleep shortly after, and maybe he did dream, but none of his dreams were remembered... in fact, nothing about that deep sleep was.
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