His Sour Lemon #2.1

Part 17: First Taste Of The Future

CHAPTER 17: First Taste Of The Future

October 13th, 2031.
6:53 pm, Outskirts of New York City, America.
Fitzgerald Institute for Troubled Youth.

I heard the sound of distant piano, a delicate, sweet melody-I thought my mind was playing cruel, fatal trick on my already damaged mind. I woke up staring at a brown wooden desk, carved and branded with a name my blurry eyes couldn't recognise, "D-dad?" I call out, confused, I hadn't seen a place like this before.

"He's not here, Edmund Tiberius Creed." I hear an older female murmur, the piano stops. Melody gone. Pain everywhere against my back at the smell of alcohol stinging against the raw wounds.

"Stay still, kid. We're healing it." I hear a male say above me, confusion blasting a pounding ringing against my ears.

My wounds, they were healing my wounds.

"W-where am I?" My whisper was barely audible, yet the woman with white streaks in her dark brown hair stares down at me from the wooden desk.

"The Fitzgerald Institute for Troubled Youth."

I sharply inhale...an institute...for what?

"Welcome, Edmund."

******

April 25th, 2042.
4:11 am, London, United Kingdom.
Advanced Business Engagements Academy (Private Business Institution), Sylvan Lakeshore.

I heard ruffling behind me. Being a light sleeper, I could never calmly fall into a dark oblivion ever again, except the sound of her breathing heavy, I was certain I was imagining it. I roll over, snuffing a breath on the comfortable couch while the rain hammers against the glass windows and outward rooftop. I hear her stand and remove the duvet, snapping my eyes open. I couldn't move. Hearing my name on her lips in sleep would have normally been a good thing if she didn't look so frightened in the middle of the night. I recall flinching when she begged someone to stop, afraid to death it was me. I couldn't move, I felt paralysed, even as the door opened. I snapped my tense head up, my neck burning in pain, I roll it out a few times and walk silently to the door after hearing her make a cup of tea, I check the time on my phone, before stepping out.

Don't scare her.

I won't.

Just...be gentle, she had a nightmare.

I know that, just shut up and let me think.

I didn't want to scare her anymore than the feeling of being eternally afraid that she me hurting her in her dreams, physically. I couldn't bare the thought, not even for a single second, I reach out, she jumps when my clammy fingers reach for her bare elbow.

I still, "Nightmares?" I ask her, staring down into amethyst irises that looked to be in 'fright' mode at the moment.

She purses her lips after calming down, but she didn't flinch from my touch, that is a good thing, "Of such. Why are you awake?" She asks me, taking a slow sip of her tea, I pull the stool out from under the kitchen table, gesturing her closer as I murmur,

"We actually went to bed early." I whisper down to her, slowly reaching out to cup her cheek and instantly, she leans in closer the second I glide the tip of my nose against the midline of her forehead, she calms down, like always. I rub her back gently.

Not bad, Edmund.

Not bad.

I even manage a smile on her lips, before she looks up at me curiously, something in her eyes, I liked that look, especially when it was directed to me, "Why do you do that?" She whispers, taking note of the number of times I had a knack of believing this calms her down, it sure as hell helps me take a few deep breaths just to see reason.