Andrew

It had been the third day straight that he had fallen asleep sobbing into his pillow, and this time it felt as if the tears would not stop flowing! His chest rose and fell in a slight tremble as he clutched his blanket tight about him in an attempt to stifle the onslaught of thoughts that harassed his mind. "I'm leaving first thing in the morning" he swore to himself, wiping the tears off his cheek with the heel of his hand. The sting of the cane seemed to leave stripes of pain across his arms and along the back of his legs. He had given up trying to soothe them with his hands but instead intended to use the burn as the fuel that would propel him toward his escape.

The boy flung the blanket off his body and rose in anger determined to make ready his belongings for his departure the following morning. "I can't wait that long" Andrew whispered to himself as he scurried off silently toward the closet where his backpack was folded and packed. He pulled it out and began shoving his clothing and toiletries into it. It was past midnight and the moon shone into his room through the lace, casting a yellowish tinge upon his face that glistened with the tears that fell from his brown eyes. The noise from his frantic movements and scurrying made it's way down the passage, into the room between the cleft of the door that was left ajar; and slid into his father's ears who lay asleep in a drunken stupor. The disturbance stirred the sleeper awake, forcing him to rise in a bout of rage that would no doubt be directed toward the culprit in the afore mentioned room.

Andrew who had now completed his packing began writing his note of departure when the door burst open admitting the fellow who fell victim to the clamor. His countenance resembled that of dark tempest at its apex in full fury! His brow was clouded and his dark eyes burned with a fire that even the greatest of beasts would recoil from. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" came the voice that Andrew would later describe as thunder in the midst of an earthquake, it froze his writing and seemed to shine a light of great shame upon him that caught him so unaware that the answer he gave to his master was a stuttering procession of "I's" and "Um's". What followed was a repeat of what had caused him to cry himself to sleep for almost all his young life.

As Andrew's father shut the door after delivering the blows, the former coiled up like centipede when struck by a stone, and began rocking back and forth in a rhythm that mimicked the ebb and flow of his disturbed thoughts. The boy then looked up for a moment, calling forth strength from above. He sat thus for a moment or two before reaching for his backpack and coat and pushed his way out of his room and quietly found the key to the butler and door downstairs, unlocked both, and ran as if some force of fate gave speed to his feet. The wind flung his red coat back like a cape and the tears that welled up in his eyes blinded him so much so that he stopped to wipe them once more with heel of his hand. He hadn't given much thought to his destination, all he knew was that his legs would carry him to safety, as swallows do in the autumn when summoned by nature to leave their abode for a more accommodating  dwelling.

T. B.