Scream to Be Heard II
I Never Thought I'd Walk Away From You...I Did.
Alex storms out of the house, backpack slung haphazardly over his shoulder.
His mother is calling after him, running after him, pleading.
Begging him to come back inside, explain.
Her attempts are futile.
He's already halfway down the street, and she can't run like he can; can't sprint, can't stride.
She comes to a stop at the end of the driveway, wincing as a jolt of white hot pain runs through her leg.
Tears escape from her light eyes, dripping heavily down her paled face.
She feels helpless.
She is helpless.
She watches him turn the corner and disappear into the darkening evening.
Stares down the empty road until the sky grows gray and the temperature drops, until freezing rain pours onto a sidewalk already wet with tears.
Until her husband comes and carries her into the house, lays her on the couch.
She's cold, shivering with loss and drenched in regret.
She couldn't stop him, and just like that, another son is gone.
The only one she had left.
Alex runs for what feels like hours, every moment seeming to stretch on a little longer than the previous.
He runs until he can't breathe, a painful ache throbbing in his side as he slows and stops in the middle of a darkened alley.
He leans with his back against the wall before sliding slowly down it, onto the cold cement.
He pulls his knees to his chest and surveys his surroundings.
Realizes that he doesn't know where he is, can't remember when he last saw a recognizable street name.
He thinks he's just made the stupidest decision of his life.
He reaches down and rummages in the pocket of his jeans, extracting a nondescript silver cell phone.
His fingers fumble over the buttons, shakily dialing a familiar seven-digit number.
He holds his breath as it rings once, twice, praying that someone picks up.
After the fifth ring, his father picks up, not even bothering to greet him.
"Alexander. I hope you're happy with yourself and your decision. I hope you have a place to stay, because you're no longer welcome in our home."
Alex chokes on a gasp, struggling for breath and searching for the words to make everything right again.
"B-but.."
"No. You chose this, and there's no turning back now. You're on your own. Oh, and don't bother calling again, we won't answer. Your mother and I are returning to Essex for a year, leaving tonight. If you're still alive when we get back, you can live with us again. If you die...well, we'll try to make it to the funeral."
Alex is frozen, shocked by the obvious sincerity of his father's words and the consequences of his actions.
He pleads, voice wavering and breaking as tears prick his eyes and fall down his cheeks.
"Dad, I-I'm so sorry. Please, I j-just..."
"There's no turning back. It's done."
Alex opens his mouth to speak, but the line is already dead.
He's sobbing, hands covering his wet face as the tears continue, sliding over his fingers and onto the dirty ground.
What will happen to him now?
Where will he go?
What will he do?
The unanswerable questions keep coming, each one more desperate than the last.
He never thought his father would be this cruel, never though the usually kind-hearted man could even contemplate doing something like this.
Did he really care so much about saving his own skin that he'd rather let Alex die than come clean?
And what about his mother?
His mother never would've let him go...unless his father told her to.
She'd go along with anything the bastard said.
And...they'd already lost their favorite son.
His loss was a dull ache compared to the brutal stab wound that was Daniel's death.
God, he misses Daniel.
The usually warm September air has a strangely sharp bite to it, and, in a way, it's fitting that the cold would come on a night like this.
Cold air to match his father's heart.
He wraps his hoodie around himself, trying to remain as warm as possible as he lies down hesitantly on the cold pavement.
He shivers underneath the thin fabric, completely alone for the first time in his life.
His mother is calling after him, running after him, pleading.
Begging him to come back inside, explain.
Her attempts are futile.
He's already halfway down the street, and she can't run like he can; can't sprint, can't stride.
She comes to a stop at the end of the driveway, wincing as a jolt of white hot pain runs through her leg.
Tears escape from her light eyes, dripping heavily down her paled face.
She feels helpless.
She is helpless.
She watches him turn the corner and disappear into the darkening evening.
Stares down the empty road until the sky grows gray and the temperature drops, until freezing rain pours onto a sidewalk already wet with tears.
Until her husband comes and carries her into the house, lays her on the couch.
She's cold, shivering with loss and drenched in regret.
She couldn't stop him, and just like that, another son is gone.
The only one she had left.
Alex runs for what feels like hours, every moment seeming to stretch on a little longer than the previous.
He runs until he can't breathe, a painful ache throbbing in his side as he slows and stops in the middle of a darkened alley.
He leans with his back against the wall before sliding slowly down it, onto the cold cement.
He pulls his knees to his chest and surveys his surroundings.
Realizes that he doesn't know where he is, can't remember when he last saw a recognizable street name.
He thinks he's just made the stupidest decision of his life.
He reaches down and rummages in the pocket of his jeans, extracting a nondescript silver cell phone.
His fingers fumble over the buttons, shakily dialing a familiar seven-digit number.
He holds his breath as it rings once, twice, praying that someone picks up.
After the fifth ring, his father picks up, not even bothering to greet him.
"Alexander. I hope you're happy with yourself and your decision. I hope you have a place to stay, because you're no longer welcome in our home."
Alex chokes on a gasp, struggling for breath and searching for the words to make everything right again.
"B-but.."
"No. You chose this, and there's no turning back now. You're on your own. Oh, and don't bother calling again, we won't answer. Your mother and I are returning to Essex for a year, leaving tonight. If you're still alive when we get back, you can live with us again. If you die...well, we'll try to make it to the funeral."
Alex is frozen, shocked by the obvious sincerity of his father's words and the consequences of his actions.
He pleads, voice wavering and breaking as tears prick his eyes and fall down his cheeks.
"Dad, I-I'm so sorry. Please, I j-just..."
"There's no turning back. It's done."
Alex opens his mouth to speak, but the line is already dead.
He's sobbing, hands covering his wet face as the tears continue, sliding over his fingers and onto the dirty ground.
What will happen to him now?
Where will he go?
What will he do?
The unanswerable questions keep coming, each one more desperate than the last.
He never thought his father would be this cruel, never though the usually kind-hearted man could even contemplate doing something like this.
Did he really care so much about saving his own skin that he'd rather let Alex die than come clean?
And what about his mother?
His mother never would've let him go...unless his father told her to.
She'd go along with anything the bastard said.
And...they'd already lost their favorite son.
His loss was a dull ache compared to the brutal stab wound that was Daniel's death.
God, he misses Daniel.
The usually warm September air has a strangely sharp bite to it, and, in a way, it's fitting that the cold would come on a night like this.
Cold air to match his father's heart.
He wraps his hoodie around himself, trying to remain as warm as possible as he lies down hesitantly on the cold pavement.
He shivers underneath the thin fabric, completely alone for the first time in his life.
♠ ♠ ♠
I like updating every week or so, hopefully I'll keep it up.Next update'll probably be on I'm a mess, if I can write something for it. But yeah.
Flashback!