What Lies Beneath

Chapter Ten: The Boy Next Door

Wyatt laid on his four-poster bed listening to the silence that had filled the spaces around him. He tried to tell Karen about it, but she was too pissed at him about the fact that he wasn't listening to care. He missed the sounds of the animals outside. It had been his one constant companion throughout his solitary existence.

He hadn't meant to make the her mad, his mind was just a bit preoccupied. All throughout the rest of the day she'd made sure to go out of her way to avoid him. Even during mealtimes. He even tried to apologize, but she ignored that too. When it was time for bed, Wyatt learned that they were rooming a couple of doors down from each other.

In an effort to make peace between them, Wyatt went and  knocked on her door, but she never answered. He supposed that it didn't really matter if she forgave him, all that mattered was that he had tried.

When he got back to his room, he figured that he should unpack. The only carrying case he brought with him was a small black backpack that contained everything he owned. In his seventeen years of life Wyatt learned to live light in case he needed to leave in a hurry.  

As he placed his clothes in the antique dresser, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. His face was a little purple, but at least the swelling was starting to go down. His split lip was still sore and a bit swollen and his ribs still hurt from the beating that he took, but other than that he was fine.

He was surprised that nobody had mentioned his disheveled appearance when he arrived. At the time he thought that they were just being nice, but maybe they hadn't really noticed. If so, he was glad. People always assumed that if you were covered in bruises that you were a bad kid, and he didn't really want to make that kind of impression here. Though one could argue that the impression that he did make wasn't much better.

Wyatt really did want Karen to forgive him, but there wasn't much he could do if she wasn't willing to listen.

With a sigh he fell back onto his bed. His body bobbed up and down for a minute before finally coming to a complete stop. He just hoped that things would go better in morning. Maybe after some sleep and time to herself, she would be willing to hear him out.

Deciding that there was nothing else that he could do, Wyatt closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Wyatt awoke to the sound of intense banging on his wall. Surprised, he pushed himself up from the over-stuffed pillows that were cradling his head. Having forgotten to turn his light off earlier he was able to see that there was nobody in the room. The next logical option would have been that someone was either banging on the other side of the wall or that someone was at his bedroom door.

When he'd gotten his room assignment, he was told that he didn't have any immediate neighbors, which only left the door. He slowly maneuvered his way out of the giant bed to go see who it could possibly be, eventhough Wyatt could have sworn that the noise was coming from the walls. Whenhis feet hit the ground, they were met with the sensation of something warm andmushy between his toes.

Afraid to look down, Wyatt manipulated his eyes to peak at the floor. Through his bottom lashes and past his cheeks, Wyatt could see that he was standing in a thick red puddle. Wyatt, daring himself to get a better look, forced his head to turn and look at the crimson liquid that seemed to be originating from under his bed. Wyatt bent down to see if he could find the true source, but what he found was not what he expected in the least. Though, to be honest, he didn't know what he was expecting.

Wyatt fell back in horror. Under the bed was a pile of dead animals that had been gutted. In the shock of what he was seeing, Wyattbarely registered the beginning of the pounding sound that started up again.

Unable to stop himself, Wyatt began to weep for the animals. In the background the pounding gradually grew louder and louder. To block out the noise, Wyatt placed his head in his lap and wrapped his arms around it.

He stayed in that position for the rest of the night. 

At some point, though he didn't know how exactly, he'd managed to fall asleep. When Wyatt awoke, he found that the blood was gone and so were the animals that had been gutted under his bed.

Wyatt's back cried out in pain as he stood. He didn't want to be in that room any longer than was necessary. With extreme haste, Wyatt threw on his jeans from the day before and a t-shirt he found at the top of his bag before exiting. He didn't know where he was going until he found himself knocking on Karen's door. 

An echo of a memory from the day before played in his mind. He vaguely remembered Karen telling him about some of the things that happened to her when she arrived. He supposed that some part of him figured that if anything, she would know what to do.

It didn't take long for the door to open and for him to come face to face with Karen. From the way that she held herself and the circles under her eyes, he could tell that she too didn't have the best night.

"I believe you." The words rushed out of Wyatt's mouth. He didn't mean to practically shout them at her, but he didn't want to risk the chance that she would just slam the door in his face before he got a chance to say what he gone there to say.

Karen gave him a cursory glance before answering.

"Let's talk."