Speak.
002.
Soft rays of early morning sunshine peered through the cracks between the sea-foam green curtains that held most of the light out. The sunshine hit the bed, sending arrays of yellow and gold hues scattered across the bedding which held the same nauseating green that the curtains possessed. Peeking out from the corner of one, thin sheet was a shock of sandy-blonde hair and just below that, a forehead covered in rusty freckles.
The blankets pulled almost completely his head, Zack lay in a ball curled under the thin, cotton cover; the sun's reflection on the green fibers giving his skin a sickening tint. His ice blue eyes were blank, reflecting no emotion and showing no hint as to what he was thinking. Long, thin fingers were intertwined with the hospital band, twisting and turning it around his wrist. One cracked lip was pulled between his teeth; chewing and biting the chapped skin.
"Zack?"
Hearing his name, he slowly pulled the blanket off his head. A young nurse stood in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. She smiled softly at him, her blue eyes sparkling towards his.
"There are some people here to see you." She stated with a kind tone and moved away from the doorway; letting whoever was behind her into the room.
"Zackary.." A pretty middle-aged brunette walked into the room, her expression frozen in shock. In three years, her boy had changed so much and yet, he seemed to look exactly the same as the day she last saw him.
"Oh, my baby boy." She whispered, rushing to his side and tenderly wrapping him in her arms. He sighed and buried his face in her neck but didn't move a muscle or make any attempt to hug her back. Finally, she pulled away and stepped back to look at him. Brushing the hair away from his forehead, she ran a finger over his freckles and smiled, tears beginning to well up beneath her eyelids.
The father was standing just behind her, not moving or saying a word, he simply remained set in his stance. But tears were silently streaming down his face as he looked into the scene. He didn't know what to do or say; he just stood there watching as his wife clung to their son's body; as if she was afraid that if she let go he would disappear again.
"We'll leave you three alone, you have a lot of..catching up to do." The doctor said as he turned and shut the door behind him, his last few words catching in his throat.
The room was quiet, the only sound being the steady beep of the heart monitor and the occasional sniffle.
"Zack,what happened to you? The doctor told us that you have all these injuries and," She paused, choking back tears that were threatening to cascade, "..scars. You were gone for three years, where did you go? Please, tell us what happened.." She begged, looking into his crystal orbs as if she was searching for something. Perhaps she was but she hadn't realized it. Zack's light was gone, his smile had vanished. The twinkle in his eye had been stomped out.
"Get up, you incompetent shit!"
"Come now, leave the poor boy alone. He didn't do anything."
"Bullshit. Get the needle, I'm tired of his laziness."
Quaking, he grabbed the blankets and wrapped them around himself again. His memory was his worst enemy now; playing over and over the words he had heard even though they had taken place so long ago. He had been found but he wasn't safe. In fact, he'd never be safe again.
Without speaking a word, he simply shook his head.
The blankets pulled almost completely his head, Zack lay in a ball curled under the thin, cotton cover; the sun's reflection on the green fibers giving his skin a sickening tint. His ice blue eyes were blank, reflecting no emotion and showing no hint as to what he was thinking. Long, thin fingers were intertwined with the hospital band, twisting and turning it around his wrist. One cracked lip was pulled between his teeth; chewing and biting the chapped skin.
"Zack?"
Hearing his name, he slowly pulled the blanket off his head. A young nurse stood in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. She smiled softly at him, her blue eyes sparkling towards his.
"There are some people here to see you." She stated with a kind tone and moved away from the doorway; letting whoever was behind her into the room.
"Zackary.." A pretty middle-aged brunette walked into the room, her expression frozen in shock. In three years, her boy had changed so much and yet, he seemed to look exactly the same as the day she last saw him.
"Oh, my baby boy." She whispered, rushing to his side and tenderly wrapping him in her arms. He sighed and buried his face in her neck but didn't move a muscle or make any attempt to hug her back. Finally, she pulled away and stepped back to look at him. Brushing the hair away from his forehead, she ran a finger over his freckles and smiled, tears beginning to well up beneath her eyelids.
The father was standing just behind her, not moving or saying a word, he simply remained set in his stance. But tears were silently streaming down his face as he looked into the scene. He didn't know what to do or say; he just stood there watching as his wife clung to their son's body; as if she was afraid that if she let go he would disappear again.
"We'll leave you three alone, you have a lot of..catching up to do." The doctor said as he turned and shut the door behind him, his last few words catching in his throat.
The room was quiet, the only sound being the steady beep of the heart monitor and the occasional sniffle.
"Zack,what happened to you? The doctor told us that you have all these injuries and," She paused, choking back tears that were threatening to cascade, "..scars. You were gone for three years, where did you go? Please, tell us what happened.." She begged, looking into his crystal orbs as if she was searching for something. Perhaps she was but she hadn't realized it. Zack's light was gone, his smile had vanished. The twinkle in his eye had been stomped out.
"Get up, you incompetent shit!"
"Come now, leave the poor boy alone. He didn't do anything."
"Bullshit. Get the needle, I'm tired of his laziness."
Quaking, he grabbed the blankets and wrapped them around himself again. His memory was his worst enemy now; playing over and over the words he had heard even though they had taken place so long ago. He had been found but he wasn't safe. In fact, he'd never be safe again.
Without speaking a word, he simply shook his head.