Chapter 3

443 18 0
                                    

I am sorry that the formatting is messed up. When you copy and paste, it does that. So, I hope you won't be annoyed at that. Enjoy!

{Chapter 3}

Andrew woke sometime later. His head lay against the window of the suburban. The noise of the wind rushing past droned on in his head.

Memories of what happened when he was last awake filtered through his mind. Suddenly, at seeing the sight outside of the car window, the thoughts were gone, replaced by a terrifying memory.

                                                            #

“You have been a bad boy.” The voice was a deep throaty growl, like that of a monster. Andrew’s throat constricted. “For that, you will pay for your—,” He didn’t hear the rest. His head plunged into burning hot water. The burn felt as if it was screaming a long, guttural screech.

It turned out that it wasn’t the burn at all. The terrible noise was coming from his throat. It seemed inhuman.

                                                                        #

            Andrew closed his eyes trying to fight off the memory. Closing his eyes didn’t help. A wave of nausea rolled over Andrew’s stomach. It felt like claws scraping across his heart. Why had this happened to him? Andrew’s mom had always said that it was a teaching lesson from God.

            Andrew despised God for doing this to him. What kind of god taught people lessons by inflicting pain on them? Not one that Andrew would believe in or follow.

            The hatred Andrew felt towards God and Thomas welled. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs at the both of them. Andrew knew, though, that such a thing was impossible, Thomas wanted to kill him, and God didn’t exist.

            Andrew was filled with panic. Thomas wanted to squash him like a bug.

            “Mom,” Andrew said, “Where are we going?”

            Anne looked from the road to Andrew, “Sh, we’re going to the airport, we are going to Austin. We need to see your grandpa. He will know what to do.” She said almost inaudibly.

            Andrew changed the subject by saying, “Can you turn on the radio.” Tears were swelling up in his eyes. He was trying hard to keep them in, but still they leaked out. He put his palms to his eyes. I am so childish! Why do I keep crying? I hate myself! I hate who I am! 

            The tears were soaking through Andrew’s fingers. He was able to hold back a loud sob.

            Suddenly, the radio turned on, and a familiar tune filled the confines of the car. The song was played by a symphony. It was Songe d’Automne. Andrew began to hum along with the exquisite music. Each note brought calm to Andrew’s haggard mind. He finally took a large calming breath.

            The song ended.

            Anne pulled the suburban into a parking spot. Soon, Andrew and Anne were walking into the terminal with three large bags.

                                                                        #

            “You can’t get cheap tickets on such short notice.” The man standing at the Southwest counter said.

Andrew's TearsWhere stories live. Discover now