Made From Roses

Aching

Tommy described it as an aching pain when he splintered away from his nightmares. As his breath settled and the sweat cooled at the back of his neck his mind would always wander to the darkest part of his dream.

Where he was trapped in a tunnel that was quickly closing in, his chest being compressed by the mud as he fought his way out. Even nature wasn't on his side.

As he sat on the edge of his bed he wondered if the dreams would ever fade. If there effect would ever soften so that one day he would be able to wake without feeling like he was suffocating.

It was still dark outside and he had the urge to leave the house and spend it with the horses, away from everything. To completely vanish into the thin air for just a few mere moments.

Could he vanish? Would his family even care at this point? He had done everything possible to push them away.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment he pictured how they would fare without him. Ada would be happier no doubt. Arthur would piss all their money away. John would keep having more children. Polly would find someone rich and move away. Finn would try and follow in his footsteps...

A sound from the other side of his door pulled him from his dark thoughts. Someone was walking by his door and heading down the stairs. A creaky floorboard gave them away.

Quickly getting up he rushed to the door and pulled it open.

Annabelle Thorn was heading downstairs after cleaning up the smashed whiskey bottle he had left on the stairs only hours before. In her night clothes she was completely taken aback by his abrupt disruption and had to stifle a scream.

"I'm sorry did I wake you?" She breathed, trying desperately to calm herself.

Tommy didn't even have time to feel embarrassment for the woman having to clean up after him. Too fixated with how different she looked out of her uniform or with her hair down.

"Yes you did" he lied, his tone effortlessly slipping into a darker territory.

Annabelle looked away and picked up the dust pan and brush in hopes to get out of his way quickly. After all she had expected him to sleep given the amount of alcohol he had put in his system.

"Sorry sir. I'll be much quieter now. I'll just clear this away" and she went to move down the stairs but his hand stopped her.

"Your dripping on my floor" he hissed

Annabelle looked down and saw her index finger had a deep cut across at the top and it was causing the blood to drip down her night dress and onto the floor. Quickly grabbing at her finger to stem the bleeding she shyly looked up at him hoping this wouldn't infuriate him anymore.

"Come on" he mumbled as he walked down the stairs.

As Annabelle followed she silently cursed herself with every swear word she knew. Of course he would see that she was ruining his beautiful floors with her blood because she had been stupid. Following him still, she watched as he walked her into the kitchen and was surprised he knew where it was.

"Sir, please go back to bed. I can sort this" she mumbled as she watched him open up a cupboard, looking for something.

"Don't tell me what to do Miss Thorn, this is my house" he snapped, not even bothering to look at her "The quicker your stop bleeding on my floors the quicker I can go back to bed"

Annabelle bit her tongue and walked herself over for the sink where she began to run the cold water over the cut. It didn't look so bad now.

As she turned around she quickly found that he had left. On the bench was a bandage and what looked to be alcohol. Sighing with relief she quickly made her way over to fix up her finger, all the while scolding herself for making him angry.