Tomorrow - Dylmas Fanfiction

Regret

Warning: Violence

Extract from Thomas Sangster's journal ~ 'I like to pretend that the 14th July 2013 never happened. But it did happen and it is a day permanently ingrained into my mind for all the wrong reasons. I get flash backs from different parts of the day in way too much detail. The guilt of not acting on what I witnessed constricts me and makes me feel like I can't breathe. Everything is so vivid and no matter what I do, the flashbacks remain fresh in my mind.'

                 The second I opened my tired, sleep filled eyes, I instantly knew something was wrong. My brain clicked into action and I dragged my body from under the duvet, feeling the weight of it above my feet heavier than usual. I flung open the door to my room and jogged down the corridor and knocked on Dylan's door before I realised the only clothing I was wearing was a pair of boxers. I had no idea why I felt such urgency. No response. I threw the door open to find Dylan's bed empty and the covers knocked carelessly on the floor. My heart thumped in my chest so fast it felt like it had been swapped for a hummingbirds heart. This didn't make any sense. Why did I feel so worried when anything could have happened? He could be at the shops or making his morning coffee. And that was when I heard it. Only a tiny, barely audible whimper at first, but then it came again, louder and clearer, the squeak Dylan made made when he was in severe pain. Coming from the basement. My legs quivered with nerves as I ran down the stairs, grabbing the banister on the penultimate step to prevent me tripping. I flung through the aged wooden door and started down the basement steps. That was the second I realised Dylan wasn't alone. That was the second I realised exactly was going on. That was the second my worry was replaced by terror. A dim light lit the room, casting a yellow glow across the naked stone walls. In the corner, wedged between a metal tool shelf and the grubby cream coloured, moulded wall was Dylan. He had a knack for getting cornered when being attacked. Patrick was in such a rage he failed to notice me. I had no idea what to do or how to help. The promise I made to Dylan the night before lingered in my thoughts. It was a battle between acting slowly with a calculated plan and my instincts - to rush at Patrick, my fingers ready to grab his neck and never let go. Every second I failed to help made my instincts stronger to resist and my tactical thoughts harder to cling to.

"And you think that is an acceptable way to act?" Patrick hissed into Dylan's ear.

"No, Dad I'm sorry!"

What? Why was Dylan apologising?

"I don't care whether you're sorry or not! You're gay and that is wrong! I thought I raised you better than that! You're disgusting! You've blown you're chance and this is payback!" Patrick was screaming, kicking Dylan in the side so hard that stifled yelps escaped Dylan's mouth at each blow. My mind screamed to help, but I didn't know what to do. Or so I thought. The truth was that I was terrified.

"Stop! Please!" Dylan cried.

"This is for being gay!" Another kick in the side with his leather shoe, "This is for disobeying me!" And another, "And this," he raised his leg as far as possible and swung it down, making Dylan withdraw back into the wall in agony and a scream of pain, "Is for being the worst son in the entire universe!"

With that, Patrick turned on his heel and began to walk out. He saw me. I don't know what was going through my mind in that moment but I my next action was the thing I regret most in my life. I ran. I ran away from Dylan when he needed me most. I broke my promise to protect him. I proved to myself that I was a coward.

I locked myself in the bathroom, barely able to slide the bar across because my hands were shaking so much. The pounding of footsteps up the stairs coming ever closer absolutely petrified me, but little did I know that the regret dooming my life because of the decisions I made would be permanent and a million times worse than facing my fear.

"Get out of my house!" The door shook with the force of knuckles bearing down on it, "And if you ever dare to contact Dylan, you can be certain that I will kill you," His voice became a deadly whisper, "I will go into my bedroom for 5 minutes and give you a chance to get the hell out of here and I will then emerge, dangerously angry if I see you still on my property."

Patrick walked down to his bedroom and the second I heard the door close behind him, I ran to pull on some clothes and gather my belongings, stuffed them all into my suitcase and escaped the house as soon as physically possible.

Once outdoors and able to process what had just happened, the guilt hit me like an avalanche. I had promised Dylan that I'd protect him and that I would always be there for him, yet the very next day had abandoned him, injured in a basement with no one to help him. That was the person that I loved with all my heart and I abandoned him for my own safety. I couldn't believe I was so utterly, disgustingly selfish. I hated myself. I hated myself more than I hated Patrick or Lisa and Aml put together. I couldn't believe what I'd done. I'd saved myself at Dylan's expense which made me ninety nine percent sure he despised me and a hundred percent sure I despised myself. I'd demolished any chance we had at being together. I knew I couldn't live without Dylan, so I'd ruined both our lives instead of endangering my safety.

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Hey guys! (I haven't got anything to say and I'm tired so I'm going to sleep now)

QOTC: Did you prefer TMR books or movies? (assuming everyone's read/watched them)

A: The books by a long way. I feel like the characters in the book were a lot more developed and interesting and relate-able. I love all the actors and actresses though and mainly put the problems I have with the films down to the changed storyline in TST. (I could go on for a very long time but I won't so thanks for reading!)