Introvert's Mind
deux.
When Thomas arrived at his house the first thing he noticed was that a red Echo was parked in the driveway. Normally, it wouldn't be there until far later into the afternoon and the young boy couldn't help but sigh at it. This was probably bad.
Walking across the badly trimmed lawn, not even casting a glance towards the dead flowers that his mom had tried so hard to keep in good shape, he made it to the front door. Even from where he was, he could hear the booming voice of his father and the slightly less loud voice of his mother trying to calm him down. It sounded like his dad had hit the liquor a bit early that day.
The teenager opened the door slowly, trying to avoid the usual creaking sound it made. He didn't even kick off his shoes before climbing up the stairs that led to the second floor, praying that his parents didn't notice him. His mom would want to talk to him about his day at school, and his father would either start yelling insults at him or would start talking nonsense for hours. None of those options appealed to him, Thomas just wanted to be in the silence of his room by himself.
He passed his sister's room, as he did every day, although it was empty. Clary was probably out with her friend's to celebrate the end of their eight grade and Thomas tried to keep the contempt for them out of his mind. He loved his sister, but why in the world would she be celebrating the fact that she was going to high school? At least in middle school you had some kind of innocence, in high school that was completely gone. Drugs, sex, alcohol, drama, it all became more enhanced when you made that transition. He didn't want Clary to become like one of those cloned girls at his school.
Thomas shook his head, snapping back into reality as he heard something – possibly a plate – smashing against what he guessed was the wall followed by even louder shouting. The boy suspected that he wouldn't be going downstairs for a while as he continued down the hall to his own room.
The latter was clustered with dirty laundry and school books. His walls were plastered with posters of motorcycles and women in bikinis that his father had bought him and then had pestered him about it until he hung them up. The only thing in the space that was actually organized was a bookcase filled to the brim with vinyl records. They were Thomas’s pride, and when he was especially bored he re-organized them by date of release or alphabetical order. The teenager carelessly threw his bag on the ground, robotically putting a record in the player and placing the cartridge on so that the beginning of a Dire Strait song could be heard. He sighed and lay on his bed, relishing the peace of the moment. Thomas knew though that it wouldn't last and something would come shatter it, but he tried to concentrate on the music. It was no use thinking about all the crap in life. It wouldn't change anything to become self-pitying.
Thomas once again caught himself looking at the bottle of small pills on his night stand. His mind instantly wandered off to the one-hour session he spent with his psychologist every Tuesday night. Those sessions where he had to tell Mr. Andrews what went through his mind and then be lectured for half an hour when the man tried to convince him that he was insane (without actually saying the word, although sometimes Thomas wish he did so Mr. Andrews could stop kidding himself).
A knock on his door drew him out of his thoughts as his mother’s head appeared through the doorway. Her blonde hair fell in waves around her head, making her green eyes stand out like emeralds. Her son had been lucky enough to inherit her eyes, but had his father’s black hair and high-cheekbones. “Hey, honey. Glad that school’s over?” Before Thomas even had the chance to nod, his mother was already talking again. His mother was a sweet woman, and the boy loved her with all his heart, but she was just very busy and under an incredible amount of stress all the time. Who could blame her for not paying attention all the time?
“Sorry about the racket downstairs. Your dad’s passed out on the sofa right now, so hopefully when he wakes up he’ll have sobered up. Anyways, would you mind picking your sister up? She’s at Kelsey’s.” Thomas nodded slightly, already getting up. His mom, who still had her nurse outfit on with a name tag with the name ‘Stella’ clearly printed on it, kissed him on the forehead. “Thanks, Thomas.”
The boy silently made his way downstairs once more, although the chances that his father would wake up were minimal, fishing his keys out of his pocket on the way. Kelsey’s was all the way across city so Thomas took the time to put one of his favourite radio stations on before he left. He didn’t particularly like going to that fast-food restaurant, mostly because every time he was haunted by the memory of being stood up by Hayley Stinson there once. Just the thought of it made him shudder.
Kelsey’s was the place where most teenagers hung out, but maybe that was because the manager didn't really care all that much about the noise or whatever gestures the immature kids did. He turned a blind eye as long as those who went there bought the food. That’s when Thomas started wondering about everything that went on at Kelsey’s. How many teenagers had gone there? How many couples had went on dates at that scummy place and had split a milkshake? How many fights had erupted at the back where everything was covered in graffiti? Those were all questions that the boy would never know the answer of and this thought saddened him.
When he arrived at the diner, Clary was already waiting for him with Steven. The latter was Clary’s first boyfriend and Thomas could only hope that her choice in men would get better with time. Steven wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and most of the time he was a complete jerk. The only thing going for him was his face but Thomas had predicted that wouldn't last long if he continued to act the way he did. Nevertheless, once she saw the Corolla their lips instantly meshed together and her brother instantly averted his eyes back to the wheel of his car.
Thomas only lifted them again when he heard the passenger door open and saw Clary slip in. His sister was attractive, as he had been told by Luke repeatedly. She had their mother’s blonde hair and soft face, but their father’s brown eyes that looked surprisingly warm on her face. The sad thing though, was that she didn't think she was pretty. Thomas loved his sister, and thankfully they got along quite well. Clary was just a genuinely nice person, although she did make a lot of sarcastic remarks.
“Hey, big bro. Thanks for picking me up!” she exclaimed while turning the dials to put her favourite radio station.
“I thought you had plans tonight?”
That question started a complete explanation of why her plans had suddenly changed, the causes being something about Isabelle having a breakdown because her clothes didn't fit right and how Larry had been caught watching porn while other names were also mentioned but her brother wasn't listening anymore.
Thomas had turned up the volume of the radio, hoping that the music would put things at peace and would restore his faith in humanity.
Walking across the badly trimmed lawn, not even casting a glance towards the dead flowers that his mom had tried so hard to keep in good shape, he made it to the front door. Even from where he was, he could hear the booming voice of his father and the slightly less loud voice of his mother trying to calm him down. It sounded like his dad had hit the liquor a bit early that day.
The teenager opened the door slowly, trying to avoid the usual creaking sound it made. He didn't even kick off his shoes before climbing up the stairs that led to the second floor, praying that his parents didn't notice him. His mom would want to talk to him about his day at school, and his father would either start yelling insults at him or would start talking nonsense for hours. None of those options appealed to him, Thomas just wanted to be in the silence of his room by himself.
He passed his sister's room, as he did every day, although it was empty. Clary was probably out with her friend's to celebrate the end of their eight grade and Thomas tried to keep the contempt for them out of his mind. He loved his sister, but why in the world would she be celebrating the fact that she was going to high school? At least in middle school you had some kind of innocence, in high school that was completely gone. Drugs, sex, alcohol, drama, it all became more enhanced when you made that transition. He didn't want Clary to become like one of those cloned girls at his school.
Thomas shook his head, snapping back into reality as he heard something – possibly a plate – smashing against what he guessed was the wall followed by even louder shouting. The boy suspected that he wouldn't be going downstairs for a while as he continued down the hall to his own room.
The latter was clustered with dirty laundry and school books. His walls were plastered with posters of motorcycles and women in bikinis that his father had bought him and then had pestered him about it until he hung them up. The only thing in the space that was actually organized was a bookcase filled to the brim with vinyl records. They were Thomas’s pride, and when he was especially bored he re-organized them by date of release or alphabetical order. The teenager carelessly threw his bag on the ground, robotically putting a record in the player and placing the cartridge on so that the beginning of a Dire Strait song could be heard. He sighed and lay on his bed, relishing the peace of the moment. Thomas knew though that it wouldn't last and something would come shatter it, but he tried to concentrate on the music. It was no use thinking about all the crap in life. It wouldn't change anything to become self-pitying.
Thomas once again caught himself looking at the bottle of small pills on his night stand. His mind instantly wandered off to the one-hour session he spent with his psychologist every Tuesday night. Those sessions where he had to tell Mr. Andrews what went through his mind and then be lectured for half an hour when the man tried to convince him that he was insane (without actually saying the word, although sometimes Thomas wish he did so Mr. Andrews could stop kidding himself).
A knock on his door drew him out of his thoughts as his mother’s head appeared through the doorway. Her blonde hair fell in waves around her head, making her green eyes stand out like emeralds. Her son had been lucky enough to inherit her eyes, but had his father’s black hair and high-cheekbones. “Hey, honey. Glad that school’s over?” Before Thomas even had the chance to nod, his mother was already talking again. His mother was a sweet woman, and the boy loved her with all his heart, but she was just very busy and under an incredible amount of stress all the time. Who could blame her for not paying attention all the time?
“Sorry about the racket downstairs. Your dad’s passed out on the sofa right now, so hopefully when he wakes up he’ll have sobered up. Anyways, would you mind picking your sister up? She’s at Kelsey’s.” Thomas nodded slightly, already getting up. His mom, who still had her nurse outfit on with a name tag with the name ‘Stella’ clearly printed on it, kissed him on the forehead. “Thanks, Thomas.”
The boy silently made his way downstairs once more, although the chances that his father would wake up were minimal, fishing his keys out of his pocket on the way. Kelsey’s was all the way across city so Thomas took the time to put one of his favourite radio stations on before he left. He didn’t particularly like going to that fast-food restaurant, mostly because every time he was haunted by the memory of being stood up by Hayley Stinson there once. Just the thought of it made him shudder.
Kelsey’s was the place where most teenagers hung out, but maybe that was because the manager didn't really care all that much about the noise or whatever gestures the immature kids did. He turned a blind eye as long as those who went there bought the food. That’s when Thomas started wondering about everything that went on at Kelsey’s. How many teenagers had gone there? How many couples had went on dates at that scummy place and had split a milkshake? How many fights had erupted at the back where everything was covered in graffiti? Those were all questions that the boy would never know the answer of and this thought saddened him.
When he arrived at the diner, Clary was already waiting for him with Steven. The latter was Clary’s first boyfriend and Thomas could only hope that her choice in men would get better with time. Steven wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and most of the time he was a complete jerk. The only thing going for him was his face but Thomas had predicted that wouldn't last long if he continued to act the way he did. Nevertheless, once she saw the Corolla their lips instantly meshed together and her brother instantly averted his eyes back to the wheel of his car.
Thomas only lifted them again when he heard the passenger door open and saw Clary slip in. His sister was attractive, as he had been told by Luke repeatedly. She had their mother’s blonde hair and soft face, but their father’s brown eyes that looked surprisingly warm on her face. The sad thing though, was that she didn't think she was pretty. Thomas loved his sister, and thankfully they got along quite well. Clary was just a genuinely nice person, although she did make a lot of sarcastic remarks.
“Hey, big bro. Thanks for picking me up!” she exclaimed while turning the dials to put her favourite radio station.
“I thought you had plans tonight?”
That question started a complete explanation of why her plans had suddenly changed, the causes being something about Isabelle having a breakdown because her clothes didn't fit right and how Larry had been caught watching porn while other names were also mentioned but her brother wasn't listening anymore.
Thomas had turned up the volume of the radio, hoping that the music would put things at peace and would restore his faith in humanity.