Psycho

32

{Evan}

'You've always been useless to this family!' my mother screams, the scent of alcohol enters my nose. She's drunk, again 'You're a disgrace!' Her words shouldn't affect me anymore, but they do. They hurt more than I will ever admit.

'I should've gotten an abortion!' she yells. I feel a stabbing pain in my heart and my vision starts to blur. I can only see the silhouette of the woman standing in front of me. The woman I can't even call my mother anymore. The woman that gave birth to me, but never loved me.

'Why are you standing there like an idiot?' she hisses. 'Get the fuck out of my sight!' I keep standing in my place, unable to move. I don't want this anymore. I can't do this anymore. Suddenly she walks over to me, her hand lingering in the air.

'I said, go!' She slaps me. And it feels like I wake up from my trance. I feel the burning sensation on my cheek, anger flowing inside of my body. My vision gets blurry, but this time it's because of anger, not because of the tears.

'Don't touch me!' I scream and I push her away from me and she stumbles back, unable to keep standing on her feed. I realize how hard I pushed when she falls down the stairs. She tries to grab the railing, but she fails and her head falls down on the floor. A pile of blood starts to form underneath her body.

I keep standing there, staring at the lifeless body of the woman I once called my mother. I don't know how many seconds, minutes, maybe hours pass before my dad runs into the hallway, asking me what happened. I can't say anything, I just keep staring at the body at the bottom of the stairs.

'Evan, what did you do?' My father asks and he hurries down the stairs to check on his wife.

'Esther, wake up,' he says. When she doesn't respond his voice becomes louder.

'Esther, wake up!' he yells. 'Wake up, please!' His voice has become desperate. Once he realizes his wife isn't going to wake up he starts to cry. Loud sobs fill the house as he bends over the body of his wife, his head laying on her chest.

'Evan!' I open my eyes and see Allison hover above me. It takes me a moment to realize where I am. I look around and see I'm still in Allisons dorm.

'Evan, are you okay?' she asks, her voice full of worry. Her hand glides trough my hair and now I realize how much I'm sweating.

'I'm fine,' I mumble, my throat is soar.

'Are you sure?' I nod and sigh deeply.

'I just had a nightmare,' I say.

'Do you want some water?' Allison asks. Before I can responds she gets out of bed. 'I'll get you some water.' She walks into the bathroom and returns a few seconds later with a glass in her hands. I sit up and take the glass from her. Allison sits down on the bed and watches me as I take a sip. I haven't had this dream in years. I hadn't thought about it until Allison asked.

'You're shivering,' Allison says and she lays her hand on my forehead. 'You don't feel hot, so you don't have fever.' I look down and see wet stains on Allisons covers. My hands are shaking and the water splashes over the edge of the cup. Allison takes the cup from me and places it on her nightstand. My heart is still racing in my chest.

'What was your dream about?' Allison asks, her hand running trough my wet hair.

'I should take a shower,' I mumble, avoiding her question. I can't talk about it. Not now.

'Don't do this,' Allison says when I get out of bed. She grabs my hand. 'Don't shut me out.'

'I'm not,' I say, more harshly than I intended. 'It was just a dream.' I pull my hand out of her grip and walk towards the bathroom. She doesn't stop me.

{Allison}

I hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. It's been a few minutes since he's in there and he turns on the shower only now. I'm worried about him. He won't talk to me. He's been off since I asked him about his parents. He made me promise not to leave him and to not shut him out, but that's exactly what he's doing right now. He's shutting me out. I thought I made it clear I'm here for him and I won't leave him.

I sigh and bite my lip as I look at the bathroom door. The wood isn't that thick, but it feels like there is a stone wall between Evan and me. And I don't know how to break it down. Should I go to him?

Should I give him space?

I close my eyes for a moment and try to think. I don't know what's going on in Evans head and it's killing me. I don't know what to do, what to say. I want to help him. I want to hold him, kiss him, and tell him everything is okay, or will be okay.

When I hear the sound of the creaking door that opens I look up and see Evan walking in the room. There's a towel wrapped around his hips. His body is covered in water drops from the shower he just took. His hair is wet and lies flat on his head, a few strands covering his eyes. He still looks like an absolute god, even when his eyes are red and swollen.

I don't say anything when he walks over to the dresser and opens the first drawer. I put his clothes in there when he left them here. Evan grabs one of his clean boxers and the towel drops on the floor, exposing his naked body. He pulls his boxers up his legs, until they're covering his butt. Water stains are covering his black boxers, but he doesn't seem to care. Evan grabs the towel from the floor and walks back into the bathroom.

I want to talk to him, but I don't know what to say. When Evan comes back he looks tired, exhausted even. He crawls back into bed and I turn around to look at him, my eyes begging him to say something, anything. But he doesn't. He rolls on his side, his back facing me.

I bite my lip, unsure what to do. What does he want me to do? Should I comfort him? At these times, I hate it that I don't know him that well. It makes me realize we don't know each other that long to know these things.

I lie down next to him and stare at him for a few seconds, hoping he can feel my gaze pricking in his back. When he finally turns around to face me I can't help but feel relieved. I know he won't speak to me, but at least this is something.

Carefully I let my fingertips touch his forehead, brushing the hairs out of his face. He lets me and I'm grateful for that. I keep touching him, his face, his lips, his neck, his chest. Afraid that if I stop, he'll shut me out completely. Evan closes his eyes, his muscles start to relax under my touch. My nails slightly trace the lines of the tattoos on his upper body. They trace each word on his ribs, each figure on his chest.

I press a small kiss on his chest and when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him I can't hide a smile. My face is snuggled up in his neck and the scent of my vanilla body wash fills my nose. He doesn't have his stuff here, so he used mine. Evans hands slide underneath his shirt that I'm wearing. His hands feel warm on my skin and I completely relax when he starts tracing my spine. His fingers go up and down, over and over again until they suddenly stop. Slowly I look up to find a sleeping Evan next to me.

(It's my birthday🎉🎂)