[𝐌𝐈𝐓 • 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟏] He managed to make a sane eighteen-year-old INSANE.
~
He was fascinated by her. And he wanted to make her fascinated about him, so he played a game with her. Messed with her mind in ways he shouldn't have. The catch: he was th...
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Edited — June 16th, 2022
┌────────────┐ ANNE LITTLE └────────────┘
JUNE, 1998
SHE CLOSED the old book she was reading—the spine broken, pages crumpled and bent—she placed it beside her on the couch before getting up. She walked to the door, watching Ethan stand close to his dad as they stepped inside and took off their shoes, covered in grass and dirt, small amounts of debris falling off near the door mat. Once Ethan had his shoes off and was left in his old socks, his big toe peeking out, he ran past his mother and into the lounge without uttering one word to his mother. Soon, Anne heard voices coming from the TV seconds later.
Focusing back on her husband, she noticed he was looking outside the door. Outside was ill-lit and gloomy, a portion of the patio was lit up by the light in the hallway. "Hurry up, son," he grumbled, impatience heavy in his voice.
Arlo stepped into the house, head bowed, soft chocolate curls hiding his innocent eyes. His small arms were hugging his body. He looked so pale, like he had just seen a ghost. Anne's heart tore for her five-year-old son looking so shaken up, and when he lifted his head up, hair covering his eyes moved to the sides of his face and revealed the perturbation in his eyes. He looked ready to burst into a cry, his eyes red and puffy.
"Is Arlo okay?" Anne asked her husband for an explanation, walking over to comfort her baby boy and smother him with tender whispers that everything was okay. However, before she could get to him, Trent's arm stopped her in her tracks. She turned her head toward her husband, her dark brows raised in surprise. Why was he stopping her? She was going to protest, her thin pink lips parted to speak but she turned against it when she saw the violence swimming in his hazel eyes. She took a step back, Trent dropped his arm back to his side.
"He's fine, gorgeous." Lies. She gave her baby boy a glance with a soft furrow to her eyebrows, catching him on his butt trying to get his boots off his feet, hands shaking. "Just go make dinner, it's been a long day and we're starving."
She looked at her husband, false reassurance in his hazel eyes, replacing the violence that was just swimming there. She lowered her gaze before giving Arlo one more glimpse before walking off, away from her shaking child struggling to get his boots off.
Whatever happened out in those woods was taking a toll on him after a couple years, almost every single week.
▬▬▬▬
It was quiet. The only sounds were from the cutlery hitting the china plates with sharp clinks. Ethan was shovelling his food into his mouth, and it seemed like he didn't even chew, only swallowed his food like a vacuum. When he was done, he excused himself and placed his dirty dishes into the sink before skipping off to watch TV before bed.
