cold weather

hurt people? (hurt people!)

Reigen's head was an exploded mash of fear and pain, one that never died down no matter how many deep breaths he took. He shook, shivered, scared that every shaky breath he took could worsen the situation even more — even if he and the issue were divided by walls, those walls were like paper now.

Every small movement made was like it was directly done in front of Reigen — every footstep, every spoken word, everything that happened there was carried over like Reigen was tucked into a corner in the same room, listening in like some sort of intruder.

Every thud, every scream, every single whale of agony that fled from his sister's lips filled Reigen with even more anxiety, and it didn't stop the more it went on; if anything, it piled up, jumbled and rough and sharp around the edges until Reigen felt like puking.

His sister was crying, his mother a rushed haste of wound-up feelings and his father a bitter, angry mess in some room separate from the house; even if it didn't really feel like that, even if it felt like that if Reigen where to make one wrong more he would come, rushing to hurt him.

God, he hated this house.

It was going all so well, too.

His sister and father hadn't had such a thing happen in a few years now, if Reigen's memory served him right — his sister was just upset, and his father just had a bit too much pent up anger from everything that had been happening recently, and it had just escalated so quickly that as soon as he knew it, Reigen was shaking at the dinner table, food long forgotten. His sisters and fathers shouts of rage filled his ears, and Reigen couldn't help but fear for the safety of his sister, no matter how much dread clawed up to his throat whenever he thought of her angry and hated.

Even if it had calmed down, even if it had ended with a door to the face and a raging, angry father, even if it had ended with a knot in his stomach and a lump in his throat — Reigen couldn't help but still feel fear race up his bloodstream the more seconds ticked on with nothing to do. With nothing to be wary of. With nothing to fear.

He knew his father wouldn't hurt his sister. He knew his father wouldn't come over to him and start beating him bloody — he knew that, yet his thoughts still raced with ideas and emotions that had Reigen hyperventilating.

If the boy were to rub his arms, he knew there'd be goosebumps all over it — his eyes prickled with tears, a deep, hollow emotion being cared into his very stomach as he waited, listening, for anything to come fourth of the room which he dreaded so dearly.

Seconds ticked on. Nothing. His anxiety made the blood rushing in his ears that much louder.

And then—

A bang. Loud, like something being thrown at the wall.

His ears rang, a spike of the near silence he'd be drowned in before, and he felt the urge to puke grow as the silence that stretched after fueled the ever festering fear eating away at his very being.

The rain that had started pouring down, the constant drip-drip-drip, never slowed the anxiety which filled his stomach and lungs.  His sister sobbed, loud, a choked sound — and Reigen's heart clenched in agony.  A weight pulled at his shoulders, cold hands, cold everything, and suddenly Reigen found his vision pull back, slowly. He felt the world around him shake and wobble, lines appearing where lines should not be — the kitchen bench which he sat at was doubling at the edges, the small fridge positioned in the corner blurry, his hands seeming far smaller than they used to be.