Patterns of Blues

Chapter 25

Wednesday. An entire week had gone by since Niall was shipped off, and it felt like it might as well have been an eternity. His mind often wandered to Harry and Liam, but now that he was able to think things over a bit, his brain clouded with thoughts of Mark. Horrible, cruel Mark. Greg as well, though he nearly felt bad that his dad was in legal trouble. Compared to Mark, Greg was a sweet baby angel. Though, he wasn't naive enough not to realize the severity of what happened to him. Both of those men deserved to go to jail, that much he was sure of. People had tried to explain it to him, dumbing it down so much so that their 'assistance' was utterly useless. Niall didn't need clarification on what happened, he needed to forget it. Suck it up, stop crying, put on some muscles, like Liam would do it.

Niall may have accidentally overheard his foster parents say that Greg was going to court today, and perhaps that was why he was so jittery. No one had mentioned Mark's name while he was in the general area, probably an intentional thing, and he was grateful for that. He wondered if Greg's parental rights would be terminated, and the long-term effects of that.

Niall stumbled down the stairs, grateful that no one had woken him up that morning. His sling had been removed the day before, and he was now able to go about his regular life, minus anything that might have been 'regular' to him up until that point. Mrs. Corden stayed home with him while Mr. Corden went off to work, and Niall was happy it wasn't the reverse. James seemed nice and harmless, but he was still a fully grown man, and that was intimidating enough. Perhaps the thing that startled Niall the most in the past week was his faith in people had nearly disintegrated like all the trust he should have in anyone was pried away.

"Good morning," Julia spoke, smiling up from her half-made waffle batter, "How'd you sleep?"

Terribly, he answered mentally. Nightmares had crawled through his brain each night for an entire week, but he didn't bother telling anyone. You can't stop dreams, so he'd just have to find a way to cope with them. Just another messed up thing that he was dealt. "I slept okay," he chose to respond instead, voice softer than he intended to sound, a new habit he had developed. It annoyed him more than it had for either of his foster parents. They didn't even appear to mind it, but for Niall it was like jumping around yelling, 'Don't mind me, just trying to morph into a weak little mouse! Give me your pity and bow before the god of patheticness.'

"That's good," Julia replied good-humoredly, though Niall squinted at her when he heard a twinge of doubt in her tone. He sat on one of the kitchen stools and waited patiently while she finished baking.

That afternoon, he found out they were going to church again, for some Wednesday evening service. Niall wasn't sure why someone would need to spend so much time of their week invested in Jesus. He wasn't even sure if this Jesus dude was a real person.

Mr. Corden had left him in the gymnasium with a load of kids, saying that he and Mrs. Corden were across the church in the sanctuary. Suddenly alone, Niall felt his heart begin to race. Julia had said that this would be a good thing, meeting new people his age, that it would get his mind off of things. All this was currently doing for him was making him want to scream at something.

"Hello!" A much too happy voice sounded, snapping Niall out of his panic. He looked over and saw a man, the man from Sunday, who had a toothy grin on his face, "You're Niall, right? My name's Pastor Ben, it's so nice to finally meet you." He didn't offer Niall a hand, and that much was a miracle.

"Hi," he replied sheepishly, stepping back, "I won't get in the way."

"I'm not worried about that," Paster Ben said, his face softening, "How about we get you introduced to some kids around here?" As if on cue, a teenage boy sprinted over,