Chapter 3
Tom's P.O.V.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Looking around for something to do I see a kid curled in on himself crying. Normally I would be disgusted -I still kinda was-, but something told me to go talk to him, if I've learned one thing it's to trust my instincts. So I did.
I walked over to the kid. "Who are you?" I demand, my voice cold. The kid jumped so hard I thought he'd hit his head on the tree. Now emotions have never been my strongest suit, but even I could see the kid's terrified. So I try to calm the kid's nerves by introducing myself first. "I'm Tom, what's your name?"
"Freak" the kid muttered. Oh. He was scared of me, I've never even met this kid. Fine.
"I was trying to be nice," I spit, trying to shove away any emotion other than anger. My hands unconsciously curl into fists, nails digging into my palms. I saw the kid's fear rise, watching my hands.
"You asked for my name" He was quiet enough I could barely hear him. His eyes were still on my fists, did he really think I'm gonna hit him? Like some brute?
"Yeah, and then you called me a Freak" I spit the word like a curse, looking off to the side. I should've known. Even this two (?) year old thinks I'm demon spawn. My nails dig deeper.
"No- no I just told you my name." The kid sounded desperate for me to believe him, it wasn't the lying kind, it was when I told Mrs.Cole what Billy was doing and asked her to put a stop to it. I chose to listen.
"...what" Who would name their child Freak? People insult me but they don't actually think the insults are my name? I sat down taking a few deep breaths to try and organize my thoughts.
"Freak, that's my name." He said louder, like he thought I couldn't hear him. I realize he's like two and might not actually be named Freak, he might just be addressed by the term often. That seems like the most reasonable explanation.
"I guarantee you it's not. We could go with…" I thought for a moment, "Hadrian," I nod. The name fits. "Just until we find out your real name?"
"I guess…" I give him a small smile, not wanting him to scare again.
"How old are you? I'm seven," I say trying to start a conversation.
"Three" Hadrian said with a small grin. Before looking uncomfortable and disappearing. I blink at the spot he once occupied.
That was the first dream. It wasn't the last.