CHAPTER FOUR. A Lot of Noise and a Few Walnuts

332 29 4
                                    


CHAPTER FOUR

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

CHAPTER FOUR.
A LOT OF NOISE AND A FEW WALNUTS

"Oh, there has to be something in the stocking
that makes a noise
, said Death. Otherwise, what
is 4:30 A.M. for?
"


Tommy was addicted to the ticking noise of the clock. It was just a few inches above the double doors, and it was tilted to the left -- it used to bother him, but now he appreciates it as he turns his head to read the second hand.

"I just see them, you know. When I'm getting coffee, I see Marks in the corner of my mind reading a newspaper, and then I turn to look at him and he isn't there. It's just a lady with her kid laughing" Hank says, wiping his lip with the back of his hand. Tears fill his eyes, but Tommy doesn't watch. 

He taps his foot uncomfortably, looking back at the clock to watch the minute hand shift. He sighs and presses his hand against his jaw, pushing it forcefully to crack his neck. But no one notices.

"And after that...I went to the liquor store. I walked through the aisles; I even touched a few bottles, but then I just walked out" Hank mumbles. His voice getting thicker as he continued to talk.

"I'm proud of you Hank. That was a big step for you" Elijah says putting a hand on his shoulder. Hank nods, putting the palm of his hands on his eyes to keep himself from crying.

"Thank you, thank you."

The group nods slowly with small smiles watching him.

Elijah removes his hand and looks back up to the group. "Would anyone else like to share? Tommy?"

Tommy looks up with wide eyes, using his pointer finger to scratch behind his ear. "No, no, I'm good – you two can keep talking."

"We don't heal in isolation, Tommy, but in community" Elijah reminds him.

"I'm not healing from anything. I'm fine" Tommy says, crossing his arms.

The group laughs at him, like what he said was funny.

Elijah sighs, looking at him with discontent. "Tommy, I understand how this might be uncomfortable for you, okay? But trauma is a fickle thing --"

"I don't have trauma."

"Tommy."

"Nah, 'cause I don't fuckin' see ghosts. They aren't looking in the corner of a coffee shop -- no offense Hank. I'm here because my therapist says I need to be here" Tommy says with a smile, leaning back in his chair.

"I don't think that's the problem at all, Tommy" Elijah remarks snidely. "Maybe the problem is, you don't want to remember, and you're scared that if you talk about it, the little light in your hand is going to turn on and you'll have to remember."

NOISE POLLUTION ━ Sam WilsonWhere stories live. Discover now