remembering sunday

prologue

Themes of abuse and violence throughout.

Read at your own risk.

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TWO YEARS AGO

August 2011

"You're all I have."

Waylon cradled me in his arms as if it would be the last time, his fingers carved into my skin burning away the pain that lay on the surface. As I trembled with dismay, his eyes met mine and my silent cries stopped without intervention. The waves of green within his eyes grew more fluorescent and I could tell what he was feeling. It was almost magical. It hypnotised me in a way that nothing ever could.

"River.  He won't be here for long; this will all end. One day. A Sunday will pass where he won't come back. Ever." He whispered as he grabbed hold of my hand. They were cold. His grasp grew stronger as each second dragged on. Despite my head spinning uncontrollably, his words were the only sense of sanity I could comprehend.

"I promise."

That was the first time Waylon's promise sounded genuine. He told me every single Sunday that it would end but that was beyond myth. It was almost as if he still loved him. Nothing was ever going to get better as long as this situation I'm in with him ended and it would, it had to; Waylon promised.

There was suddenly a massive bang coming from downstairs, manipulating the sound of a detonation. We both jumped at the harsh noise and I was knocked back to reality: he was coming. Regardless, Waylon's eye's stayed locked with mine.

The pure green his eyes possessed grew darker by the second. He was scared.

We were expecting him today. It was one of the few times he was back in our presence since he rarely sees us; he only comes to visit us every 3rd Sunday of each month. 

This time was different though because the last time we saw him he said he would be back in 10 weeks, 10 Sundays. 

The 10 weeks dragged on; we were trapped. We were stuck in this house with the one person we were supposed to trust. But summer was coming to an end and we were due back at school soon. But at this moment in time, that was irrelevant.

"Okay, okay. Listen. You have to do it now, River. You can control this. Do you remember how we did it? Please understand, River. We have to do it now. You have to it. Now" He begged, impatiently, whilst his grasp on my hand became stronger along with his gaze.

"Fine," I whispered, the edge of my voice trembling and my expectations at their peak as I embraced for myself for what was about to happen next.

"We have to do it. Today. We have to." He rambled on, under his breath.

We had planned to this within the 4 months we had away from him. 

I had to take the chance. Waylon had told me everything that was about to happen was going to be a dream. A dream full of lucidity I could control. 

He had always talked about it after he studied it in class. He would ramble on about how deep a human could dive into their unconsciousness without being oblivious. It was almost as if we'd go to our own parallel universe. You'd stop feeling anything and only feel what you choose to feel. His teacher, Mr Kershaw had encouraged them not to try it for "as long as I live!", he said it was dangerous and so Waylon never did. 

Until Kershaw died from unknown causes one day, only 4 months ago, the day before school came to an end for summer. 

Since, we had both practised it, for weeks on end, but at one point Waylon stopped forever and won't do it again. He never told me why.