Tom stirred within his bed as he felt a warmth spread across his clammy skin, lifting a reluctant hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as his eyes began to slowly open and adjust to the brightness of the room. He recognized the source of heat whilst squinting his eyes, trying to avoid the beams of sunlight that burst through his window to attack his senses. It was then he remembered the night before, the pounding in his head and the turmoil in his chest gave it away.
His father had left them.
"But was it a surprise?" Tom thought to himself.
After all what good was he? He was a drunk, a good for nothing waste of space who put a strain on those around him. However this wasn't a description of Jon, his father, but of himself.
Trying not to dwell on it, Tom threw the worn bedsheets off of his half naked body and sat up on the hard mattress, his legs hanging off the edge with his bare feet touching the floorboards beneath. He reached for an old cup of water that rested on the small side table that stood next to his bed as sweat on his torso glistened in the late morning sunlight. The liquid was warm, but Tom didn't care as he guzzled it down in hopes of appeasing the drums that banged in his head.
The young man took a precursory look at the empty bed at the other side of the small room, the only item within those four walls that was tidy, before placing his weight onto his feet and stepping out of bed.
It didn't take him long to find an old shirt to wear, one which he found laying scattered across the wooden floor. He shrugged into the fabric, feeling it stick to his skin, whilst finding himself staring out of the window.
"This is all my fault." He said aloud, rather than in his head. "Will...Father...Mother...all of it."
Perhaps he was still a little drunk, or it was the condemnation he saw in his father's eyes the night before, or a combination of the two but something finally clicked into place for Tom.
This couldn't go on.
For Will's sake.
