Author Topic: "Skin" Part 7  (Read 148 times)

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Logan96

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on: 10:51:47 AM 10/12/18
My eyes opened, and then I stared at the white ceiling for what felt like an eternity.Tendrils of smoke seeped through the cracks of my door.The sweet smell of buttermilk landed on my taste buds. Pancakes weren't enough to get me out of bed.

“Tommy.” Mom called.

I was uncertain about therapy, but it this either this or boot camp. I would have to lie about what was bothering me.  If I told the therapist about what I saw, I’d be locked into a small white room.

“Tommy, time for breakfast.” She called again.

After a few seconds, my stomach started to growl, and I couldn’t ignore the hunger pains so, I headed downstairs. Dad, Mom, and Stacey were sitting at the kitchen table eating, a platter of pancakes sat in the middle of the table along with a bottle of syrup, a gallon of milk, and a gallon of orange juice. I sat down and served myself.

Mom poured her self a glass of orange juice. “Tommy, your father and I have noticed that you have been having issues."

My heart began to work overtime I felt weak, and I felt a knot twisting in my stomach. My appetite was gone, and I wanted to back to bed for ten years. I placed the syrup down and let my head drop.

“You’re not in trouble son; we’re just concerned is all.” Dad said.

I poked at my breakfast with my fork no longer hungry. “I know.”

Mom finished her juice. “You have an appointment with Mr. Warner at nine.”

I looked at the clock hanging on the wall; the meeting was in an hour. “Okay.”

As I finished my breakfast, I noticed a terrible smell. It smelt like someone had just finished a five-hour workout and didn’t bother to shower. I scrunched up my face. “What’s that smell?”

Mom sniffed the air then covered her nose.“That’s you, Tom.”

“Ewww.” Stacey added pinching her nose closed.

Dad slowly got up from the table. “You should shower before you leave son.”

After breakfast, I jumped in the shower.Time must have escaped me because when I came downstairs after the shower, Mom was waiting by the door jacket on and keys in her hand.

Mom opened the door to leave. “All right, we’ll be back soon.” We got into the car and headed off.

"You can’t tell Warner what happened last night." Mom said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Your father will  go to jail." Mom replied.

I shrugged my shoulders."Doesn’t seem to be my problem."

Mom sucked her lip in."He’s just trying to take care of you?"

I whipped my head in her direction."He tried to kill me last night."

Mom sighed. "He didn't try and kill you, Tommy."

I bit my lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. "Dad, doesn't care about us. He proved it last night, he never does anything for anyone unless it benefits him or makes him look good. It's always on you or I to take care of Stacey.You're only with him because you're afraid of being alone."

Tears fell from Mom's face. "You need to be the man your father isn't willing to be. I understand that he's hard to deal with, but he's your father and he cares about you. He might not show it in the way that he should, but he cares about you."

Before I knew it, we had arrived at Mr. Warner's office. On the way in we passed by a man smoking a cigarette. A cloud of gray smoke engulfed us. We both coughed violently. Mom scowled at the guy. “Second-hand kills, man.”

When we walked into the building , Mr. Warner was waiting for us outside his office. He wore a black suit with black dress pants to match. Red lips parted into a smile exposing white rows of ivory, a neatly trimmed mustache lined his face. For someone who looked like they should have been in their late fifties or sixties, he seemed to be in good shape. He extended his hand outward for me to shake it. “How are you, Tommy?”

I was nervous I didn't want to make eye contact at first. “Good.”

He motioned for me to follow him. “Let’s head into my office.”

 I followed him to his room .The room was plain: Eggshell white walls,  and a framed degree hung on the wall behind him.

He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “Tommy have -”

His face turned black as oil.

 Patches of his face were as red as  a stop sign.

The room smelled like an ashtray.

A familiar taste of smoldering flesh filled my mouth.

“Skinnnnn.” He hissed.

I backed away until my back was against the wall. “No, no, no, no."

He stood up from behind his desk and walked after me."Skinnnn."

After fumbling with the handle for a second, I looked back the thing that was following was all burnt and charred. It reached its hand out to me trying to grab me. I tore the door open and ran for the exit screaming.

Mom rushed after me. “Tommy, what’s wrong?”

I curled up into a ball in the corner of the lobby shaking and crying. “He’s trying to take my skin!”

The smelled ebbed, a hand rested on my shoulder, I turned to see Mr. Warner instead of a monster. “It’s okay, Tommy no one’s gonna hurt you here. I’m going to help you.”

All fear left my body. “I’m ok...I think.”

He offered me his hand. “Why don’t we go back to my office and talk for a bit.”

I grabbed it and pulled myself up. “Okay.”

He pushed a bowl of hard candy at me.“So, what stresses you out so much?”

I took one and plopped it in my mouth. "It all started that night my Grandpa’s friend Nick killed him. I smelt this awful acrid stench of cigarette smoke, every time I smell smoke I go crazy. Anytime I think about that night I can smell that exact smoke, I can taste it. I feel so; guilty,I feel like I should have died. If I done something else other than lay there, maybe he’d still be alive."

Warner took a tissue and blew his nose."It’s not your fault Tommy. You’re only a kid what could have down? If you got up and tried to fight, maybe you would have gotten killed too."

My lips quivered, and mucus rolled down my face. Mr. Warner handed me a tissue. Before I knew it, time was up. On the way to the car, a ringing filled the air. Mom reached into her bang and pulled her Nokia out. “Hey, Mom. What?.. There's no girl on a tricycle clanging a bell.”

My stomach turned to mush, and my legs felt like Jell-O.

She put the phone back in her bag. “We’re gonna stop by Grandma’s real quick before we go home.”

My heart began to race as I got into the car. I sunk into my seat and tried to calm down. Mom pushed the key into the ignition and turned it; the car came to life. We were on the way to Grandma’s house.








« Last Edit: 04:00:39 PM 11/19/18 by Logan96 »



R_Solomon

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on: 08:43:55 AM 10/13/18
Is there a reason almost every sentence is it's own paragraph?



Logan96

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on: 12:43:03 PM 10/13/18
Yes.