Status: Work in Progess as of 12/11/11
Nothing in This World Can Be Endured Forever
Let Out
Hair and face covered in vomit, Bill cried. His body ached from the few hours wear of emotional and physical distraught. His limbs curled into his body, his eyes wide and darting; they couldn’t find one controlled place to focus on.
His ankle ached as it was twisted as close to himself as he could without crying out. Taking a deep breath, the air moving itself around his thumb as if it was a natural part of his mouth – always there and easily accommodated to. His left hand unconsciously dropped to his bare ankle to gently caress the throbbing there. He carefully stroked the bruised skin, his cold fingers playing over the delicate skin, the raised bone and the tendons jutting out from the back.
The smell became very overwhelming. Bill held his nose closed with his index finger and breathed deeply through his mouth, just like he used to do when his thumb wasn’t detrimental to calming himself down enough to be able to breath. His body shook with the tears and cold, damp fear.
Just as Bill was calming himself down with his thumb and vivid daydreams of paradise, he heard an indescribably sound of wood sliding on concrete. The familiar sound of the old coffee table being dragged across the basement floor.
Bill’s eyes widened. His heartbeat increased, his breathing likewise. His muscled tensed, as his eyes landed upon the wooden door.
The clink-clank of the bolts being undone, locks being unlocked, and hinges being pulled back reached Bill, who shook with more fear than before. The door opened.
Instead of Jorg on the other side, it was Kathleen, Bill’s step-mother.
“Come on,” she spoke in an indifferent voice. “We’re going shopping.”
Bill was taken aback. Had he heard correctly? Had Kathleen really offered to take him shopping? Buy things for him?
“Get up,” she spat. She didn’t move from the door.
Bill shakily stood, his joints cracking. He moved toward Kathleen. His head hung in embarrassment. Bill felt the heat rise up his neck and cover his cheeks. Her face scrunched up in displeasure when Bill neared.
“Bath first,” she stated, waiting for Bill to exit the closet before letting the grip on the door go and leading him through the basement and up the stairs.
Bill fallowed obediently, thankful and hoping Kathleen felt the rush of gratitude he felt towards her.
“Get,” she demanded. “Take a showered and hurry up.”
Bill was pushed into the bathroom and engulfed in darkness when Kathleen closed the door with a thud. Blindly, he reached fro the light switch near the door. Just as he flicked it on, the door opened once again and Kathleen was shoving a bundle of material into his arms and closing the door again. He looked down at the bundle and set the clothes on the lid of the toilet.
After his short shower, Bill quickly dried off and got dressed. He was beyond confused. Why was Kathleen giving him better, and defiantly much nicer clothing than Bill was ever allowed to wear, clothes? Why was Jorg allowing this?
Bundling his clothes up under his arm, Bill opened the door and turned off the light. He wasn’t sure of where to put his old clothes, so he dumped them in the laundry room, sure that he would be in there later, anyway and have to change.
Turning around, Bill came face to face with Izaak. Bill’s shoulders instinctively hunched up closer to his jaw and looked down.
“Mom wants you to get seven waters from the fridge downstairs and put them in the small blue cooler,” Izaak recited, his eyes looking up to help remember the information he was to relay.
Bill nodded in response and quickly did the task, his head swimming with questions. Once back upstairs, after successfully trying to carry them up without dropping one or two, Bill set the on the counter and got out the set ladder. He placed it in front of the refrigerator and stepped up, trying his hardest to reach the blue canvas cooler from atop of it. It was just an inch from his finger tips, if only he could reach just a little… bit… more…
“Hey!”
Bill almost toppled off the step ladder. His heart was pounding in his chest and his senses felt lessened from the fright. Turning his head, still reaching for the blue cooler, Bill’s heart stopped.
There in the doorway to the dinning room, was Kathleen. Her face was blank, mood distinguishable. Bill was frozen in place. What should he do? She didn’t say anything else. Was he doing something wrong? Did Izaak lead him wrong?
“Let me get it, okay?” she demanded, moving slowly until she was next to him. “We don’t want you to get hurt now, do we?”
Bill, dumbfounded, stepped off of the ladder and back toward the counter, only stopping when he bumped against it. Kathleen, herself, stepped up onto the ladder and easily got the cooler down.
What had just happened…?
His ankle ached as it was twisted as close to himself as he could without crying out. Taking a deep breath, the air moving itself around his thumb as if it was a natural part of his mouth – always there and easily accommodated to. His left hand unconsciously dropped to his bare ankle to gently caress the throbbing there. He carefully stroked the bruised skin, his cold fingers playing over the delicate skin, the raised bone and the tendons jutting out from the back.
The smell became very overwhelming. Bill held his nose closed with his index finger and breathed deeply through his mouth, just like he used to do when his thumb wasn’t detrimental to calming himself down enough to be able to breath. His body shook with the tears and cold, damp fear.
Just as Bill was calming himself down with his thumb and vivid daydreams of paradise, he heard an indescribably sound of wood sliding on concrete. The familiar sound of the old coffee table being dragged across the basement floor.
Bill’s eyes widened. His heartbeat increased, his breathing likewise. His muscled tensed, as his eyes landed upon the wooden door.
The clink-clank of the bolts being undone, locks being unlocked, and hinges being pulled back reached Bill, who shook with more fear than before. The door opened.
Instead of Jorg on the other side, it was Kathleen, Bill’s step-mother.
“Come on,” she spoke in an indifferent voice. “We’re going shopping.”
Bill was taken aback. Had he heard correctly? Had Kathleen really offered to take him shopping? Buy things for him?
“Get up,” she spat. She didn’t move from the door.
Bill shakily stood, his joints cracking. He moved toward Kathleen. His head hung in embarrassment. Bill felt the heat rise up his neck and cover his cheeks. Her face scrunched up in displeasure when Bill neared.
“Bath first,” she stated, waiting for Bill to exit the closet before letting the grip on the door go and leading him through the basement and up the stairs.
Bill fallowed obediently, thankful and hoping Kathleen felt the rush of gratitude he felt towards her.
“Get,” she demanded. “Take a showered and hurry up.”
Bill was pushed into the bathroom and engulfed in darkness when Kathleen closed the door with a thud. Blindly, he reached fro the light switch near the door. Just as he flicked it on, the door opened once again and Kathleen was shoving a bundle of material into his arms and closing the door again. He looked down at the bundle and set the clothes on the lid of the toilet.
After his short shower, Bill quickly dried off and got dressed. He was beyond confused. Why was Kathleen giving him better, and defiantly much nicer clothing than Bill was ever allowed to wear, clothes? Why was Jorg allowing this?
Bundling his clothes up under his arm, Bill opened the door and turned off the light. He wasn’t sure of where to put his old clothes, so he dumped them in the laundry room, sure that he would be in there later, anyway and have to change.
Turning around, Bill came face to face with Izaak. Bill’s shoulders instinctively hunched up closer to his jaw and looked down.
“Mom wants you to get seven waters from the fridge downstairs and put them in the small blue cooler,” Izaak recited, his eyes looking up to help remember the information he was to relay.
Bill nodded in response and quickly did the task, his head swimming with questions. Once back upstairs, after successfully trying to carry them up without dropping one or two, Bill set the on the counter and got out the set ladder. He placed it in front of the refrigerator and stepped up, trying his hardest to reach the blue canvas cooler from atop of it. It was just an inch from his finger tips, if only he could reach just a little… bit… more…
“Hey!”
Bill almost toppled off the step ladder. His heart was pounding in his chest and his senses felt lessened from the fright. Turning his head, still reaching for the blue cooler, Bill’s heart stopped.
There in the doorway to the dinning room, was Kathleen. Her face was blank, mood distinguishable. Bill was frozen in place. What should he do? She didn’t say anything else. Was he doing something wrong? Did Izaak lead him wrong?
“Let me get it, okay?” she demanded, moving slowly until she was next to him. “We don’t want you to get hurt now, do we?”
Bill, dumbfounded, stepped off of the ladder and back toward the counter, only stopping when he bumped against it. Kathleen, herself, stepped up onto the ladder and easily got the cooler down.
What had just happened…?