Smiles Can't Be Stitched Completely

Chapter 35: Chains And Their Tears

   On the other side of the orphanage, Chales was walking down a corridor while carrying a tray of food with his only tentacle. Nope, it wasn't for him but it was for a ten-year-old boy who suffered from schizophrenia.

   The child also had night terrors as a kid with chains around his wrists and neck. He died due to an accident but it caused him mental memories of somewhere else.

   When he got revived by the owner of the orphanage, Chales tried to comfort him as well as the others but the child would sometimes freak out or run away.

   There were ways to calm the youngster down but he could still be wild and cause a lot of plates breaking, making him sit for time-outs. He couldn't even keep still during therapy session.

   Because of that, he went wild again and caused a few more plates in the kitchen to break last night (and it may or may not have awoken Lizzy from her slumber and made her sit up from her bed before her exhaustion made her slump back down onto her pillow and mumble herself to sleep). After going in a time-out for the night, Chales thought he should end it with a warming breakfast the following day.

   Another reason why Chales wanted to personally meet the child was that because of a specific group of guests entering the building the night before, the leader of all the caretakers had to help ease the child so that he wouldn't react so violently when he meets the group.

   BANG!

  
   "Oh dear," Chales gasped but managed to catch the tray along with the cutlery and food on it before they could drop onto the carpet below him.

   He sighed of relief, thinking,'The dining room's been making unusual rough noises. Maybe I should check--.'

   He stopped his train of thoughts when he heard sniffling and hiccuping behind the door the mentioned kid was staying in. After each second, Chales was able to hear sounds of a squeaky toy getting pressed on.

   Concerned, he attempted to question the child,"Tyke? Are you alright?"

   Tyke Carter was the name and he was having another one of those terrible and mind-clenching meltdowns. Leaning his head even more at the door, Chales could hear the child mumbling and crying softly to himself. The high-pitched sounds by a toy continued to sound itself.

   "Ch-Chains... N-no..."

   Chales sighed before placing the tray onto a drawer beside the doorway and knocking gently onto the door. "Tyke? Apologies but I'm going to enter your room. I need to check on you, my child."

   He could hear the boy shifting his place and sob even louder. It sounded more painful than before and the squeaking sounds quickened its pace. When his 'Father-Mode' switched onto one of its maximum levels, Chales quickly went into the room to see what was happening to the kid.

   If you were there, you might be surprised to see a room full of broken furnitures and a small hill of shredded pillow cases at a corner. Their fluffy fillings had been technically thrown haphazardly everywhere.

   The only items or furniture that weren't broken was a bookshelf of children books with three colourful puppets (a rainbow clown, a purple and black wizard, and a normal-looking little boy) sitting on it with their painted smiles, a bed with its blanket and pillows looking shockingly intact and a small play area that consisted a single table and chair.

   Tyke himself was located at the right corner of the room, sitting down with his legs stretching out. One hand was moving to wipe the tears off of his face from time to time while the other was squeezing a red and blue stress ball that perfectly fit in the kid's hand. His form was trembling because of his trauma.