Cheating The Deck [boyxboy]

Cheating The Deck {20}

                I stood on the stairs, wildly confused. Something was wrong. I was home, wasn't I? So why did everything seem different?

                But then I watched as my father walked into the hallway and I relaxed. Right. Of course. I was home, and my father was here, and everything was normal.

                "Ace," he said, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking out of the front door. "Ace, don't rollerblade without me watching you!"

                "Dad," I said. Or, at least, I tried to say it. My words cut off as soon as they left my mouth, a taunt in the air that never reached my father's ears.

                "Ace!" dad said again, moving closer to the door. "Why don't you listen to me? Why are you always such a bad boy?"

                I shrank down, peeking between the railings. I was a bad boy.

                When I peeked over the railing, though, I was no longer in my house. I was in my Aunt's house, and I was looking down at myself and my cousin Phil.

                "You're bad," Phil yelled, shoving me to the ground.

                I watched myself desperately try to hush Phil before our parents heard us. A primal terror slowly paralyzed my body as I watched the scene. Consequences. There were always consequences. Our parents would hear us and they'd come down here and punish us. Phil's mom would beat us until we begged her to stop. My father would scream until my ears hurt.

                "Bad, bad, bad!" Phil cried, and suddenly I was on the ground looking up at him, trying to throw my arms up to defend myself. Why couldn't I move my arms? Why couldn't I close my eyes? I didn't want to be here anymore.

                "Bad, Ace, you're bad." I wasn't looking at Phil anymore; now it was Jack. "You're bad and they'll find you. Your dad knows where you are, Ace. He's on his fucking way to punish you. You stole his money and left him. Bad, bad, ba-"

                I sat up in my bed, chest heaving, cold sweat coating my skin. My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness of the room as I gripped the covers too tightly in my hands.

                I threw my covers off and stood up, stumbling away from my bed, my heart beating too fast. It was too hot in here. Why the hell was it so hot?

                I left my bedroom and hurried down the stairs, throwing open the front door and falling to my knees on the porch. I gulped in the fresh air, letting the cool night breeze wash over my skin.

                Tugging at the collar of my shirt, I squeezed my eyes shut. Just a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare. I wasn't a damn child anymore. I shouldn't be overreacting this much to some stupid nightmare.

                I heard a noise behind me and turned, scrambling away in surprise. "Oh, Jesus!"

                "As much as you need Jesus, he's not here," Ike said. He held a glass of water out to me.

                I took it and Ike stepped out, shutting the door behind him. I leaned against the railing and chugged half the glass of water before forcing myself to stop.

                Ike leaned against the railing, looking up at the sky. The breeze pushed his dark hair into his face, but he made no moves to brush it away.