Chapitre 12: A nightmare reborn
Groaning, Adrian shifted.
Muttering as to why he thought it was a good idea to click the damn, new addition.
It didn't take long before his attention shifted, unfamiliar bed cleared his senses and made him wonder where he was.
But only darkness graced his eyes, immediately he focused.
"What's happening?"
His voice galmed slowly around him and he waited, features twisting.
Until a distinct yet unfamilair voise rose after mere seconds.
Disbelieve clouded his mind as his feet hit the floor, the bed vanishing into obscurity.
There was nothing, even his feet was shrouded in a puddle of darkness.
Until there was everything, the bed he had awoken on was the same bed he had slept in for years, painstakingly so.
Dread filled him as he recognized the corners, desk filled with papers, paper with his handwriting on and the all too familair music blaring throughout his locked room.
Voice became clear as he leaned against the door, another joined and soon a familair scene happenend all over again.
Turning away he felt himself sinking away in the darkness that enveloped him just seconds before.
"Was it....all just a dream?"
He silently, deep in himself hoped not.
The screaming had stopped and after one more slam of the door silence descended in the house....yet this house was never silent. There was always something.
And this time he already heard the heavy footsteps coming up, the voice calling out his name.
Normally...he always avoided it but he couldn't when danger always came for him.
_His home without love._
His heart beated like never before, he wish he could be selfish.
Run, go away...yet leave your siblings to the beast.
Their innocence, he wasn't even the eldest yet sacrificied the most.
Pain stakingly as he got nothing in return, he still cried the same somber, lonely tears in the dark corner of his room.. He was so young yet had always been old.
Yet no matter what the heavy steps still scared him, scared all of them.
Stomach churned at the memories, eyes blurred as his throat started to itch, gulping he got rid of the the tears....uselessly so as they dripped onw by own down to the floor.
Out of his control, on the floor, in the room he thought long gone.
His childhood room, a room etched with years of being lonely.
Every piece of him began to shatter once more, his shaking hands reached out and tried to gather them but _they just kept falling._
He picked them but they just fell right through, his room a cage that kept him broken inside.
Scars etched more along his soul, a soul bruised, agonized.
But he would be fine, he would always be fine as he stood, wiping the tears and with a click the door opened.
The owner of the voice had long since gone, a vacant hallway met him.
But he knew he was waiting..not so patiently. He should hurry but his feet dragged over the floor, the stairs as he dragged the seconds along. His anxiety heavily impacted every step, every thought.
Mother sobbed in the kitchen but for all the talk of how that she loved her children there was nothing to show for it so he didn't feel sorry.
Because as soon as all was good again, they would go back to the happily married couple.
Children be damned.
As always, he had never known anything else.
With trembling lips he ventured more and more outside, before finally entering the vehicle with a beating heart echoing inside his head.
There was a short silence ut all too fast familair cutting word when towards him. Threathened as the only thing he could do was stop the brimming tears. His eyes strayed to the objects they passed, the high speed left him bracing himself.
Aware of the words spoken he let it wash over him.
Again.
Again.
And again.
This life he never wished for it, never wanted it.
But he did the best he could with what he had...wich wasn't much.
He cared for his siblings, probably far more then they ever had or will towards him.
He questioned of they loved him or...even liked him.
Was it just a necessity? Their love, only there when they needed. It was a subject that reuccured inside his mind, whenever something bad happenend he lost hope.
He questioned everything, what was real and what wasn't.
And more often then not he felt hopeless, one too many bad things.
His hope....his hope was bruised, blackened just like him. It had cuts and wounds,bblood leaked from everywhere but time and time it stood strong.
Because that was hope was.
It made him stand and kept him strong.
Yet his eyes right now felt dead, the dread in his stomach barely stirred.
He wondered how much longer his hope would stand strong as more words cut through the air.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone