New Beginnings, I

He remembered nothing along the lines of pictures. No sound or colour. The only thing that stayed with him was emotions, he couldn’t put a image to the feelings which angered him as the days in the hospital went by. He remembered the feelings of sadness, lost and one most powerful… Love. Love can drive you to many stupid things in life and he didn't know what stupid thing he had done. Childhood memories came back in dreams and then filed themselves back into his mind. These dreams went on for days until a week before what ever left him in this small white room. Anything after that was blank.  He wrote down these memories that came back to him, but something was missing, more so a some one. This brought back the sadness and the anger. Imagine a painting where there is meant to be a person- there is just a black spot. Thats what this was for him and it was not happy. Was this person apart of why he felt so broken? Why he was in the hospital? He asked his family and his closest friends but none of them said anything. He was so confused and heart broken. All he wanted was the knowledge to what part of him was missing. Dreams had stopped. In the hours of the dark, all he saw was black. No emotion, no colours or happiness. As days pasted he was in his own room, own home, surrounded by family. He found some sense of comfort but still no dreams came to him. His real comfort was in his dreams, where he could try and remember more about himself and join the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. But that one piece just didn't fit. Something was missing and he did not know. Sleeping is all he did, no food, no showers, only water and sleep. His family-mother and father- soon became worried. It had changed him forever. They tried to push their son to get out of his room and start to re-connect with the world. This did not happen. He seemed to only feel emotion in his dreams, which still did not come. What was he doing wrong? What was holding him back from happiness? He couldn’t find out himself. Weeks had gone by and he had realised he could not live like this, so finding strength, he walked out of his room and to his parents. In one big family hug he sobbed: “Im so sorry…”

New Beginnings…

Wilton hadn’t been to school in months, and the thought of it made him anxious, which did not allowed him to sleep at all. As the morning sun rose and shone on his face he opened his already lightly resting eyes, the sun blinding him, making his hazel eyes look like a shade of warm amber that could make you feel calm with just one look. As he allowed himself to rise out of bed the felt the familiar anxiety making him want to curl back up into his safe place. Wilton was scared, he had not been to school since the accident and wasn't sure what people would say. Maybe they will make him feel worse, maybe confuse him even more after so many months, there was even a small chance that someone would tell him what the missing piece was and he wouldn’t feel so broken. Before he winded himself up too much he got his feet, the cold wood making him shiver on his bear feet. It was autumn in Britain and he dreaded the idea of winter around the corner. Shuffling out of his room he made his way to the hall way, a old house it was but over the years it had been modernised, plumping, lights, art work and the essentials but the generations of family’s who have owned the house have refused to touch the original rich maple wood that gave the house a life and beauty as well as the willow trees that stood out side, they stood high and mighty and untouchable.  Wilton loved his home, yes it maybe old, but the coloured windows at the top and the way the house told a story as you went around it really stood out to him. It had character, but he couldn't put his finger on it to exactly why. He passed his parents room who where still happily asleep and looked at the painting that hung on the wall. It showed a man in the middle, resting his head on a beautiful woman’s lap, the woman looked almost angelic with what looked like black wings coming out of her back but only if you looked close enough they where spirits trying to take over the resting man. He loved this picture, it gave him a strange sense of comfort which he’d never admit to anyone. Making his way to the bathroom he opens the heavy wooden door and enters, looking at himself in the mirror. Wilton was skinny, but not skinny enough to be classed as sick. If anything he was tall and lanky, his long arms and legs making it hard for him to not be in constant growing pain. His face was long and his jaw line was ever so defined enough. His brown, but almost red hair, hung at almost to his shoulders and covered his eyes, as well had stubble growing on his chin. With a sigh he moved the hair from his face and saw how dead he looked. Being inside had left the boy so pale and the dark under eyes did not help. “I look dead” Wilton said to himself, his voice coming out barely a whisper. Quickly using the bathroom and brushing his teeth he turned on the water. He decided that a shower should full his body back with colour. He hadn't washed himself in a week as he thought he would not be returning to school, so showering felt rather good, washing all the rottenest, dirt and anxiety away and watching it go down the drain was rather refreshing for the boy. After a long shower he forced himself to get out, the cold air causing him to shake, grabbing a towel he hurried back to his room where there was attest sun light. With his towel around his waist he sat on the edge of his bed, allowing the sun to soak into his skin and dry him. Wilton found himself wanting to fall asleep again, but he knew he couldn’t, attest not until after school. Again, forcing himself up, he dried the rest of his body and put on some underwear. Clicking his back, he then continued to try and find his clothes that where not dirty, which was oddly hard because Wilton had always been a very clean boy, even in his time of distresses but for the past week the pure fought of going back to the out side world really got to him. Finally he found himself in a black pear of jeans, his favourite grey long-sleeved shirt, boots and a nice jacket to keep him warm. The night before he had made a bag to bring to school, books, pens, phone, even a doctors note just incase the school got angry at him for not being there. Walking down the stairs the thumping of his boots echoed the house, Wilton went down to find his mother at the kitchen table in her dressing gown and drinking a cup of tea. Even in the morning with her blonde hair all messed up and makeup-less face Wilton still found his mother to be a beautiful woman regardless of her age. She caught the sight of her son at the bottom of the stairs and smiles, placing her cup down and walking over. Wilton brung a smile to his face. “Good morning my handsome son…” She says almost to a whisper. “Good morning mother… Its a beautiful morning isn't it” he speaks softly to her. She gives a nod and then a tight hug to him, like it was his first day of school. “please… be safe sweet heart, if you  want to come home ring up and i’ll come straight away” she reassures him. Wilton felt a smile come along his cracked lips from seeing and hearing his mothers love. He gives another nod and a small kiss on the forehead. “Your father is getting ready for work so you won’t see him till tonight…” She said as she walks back to the table and her cup of tea. Wilton nods simply at that information and says his good byes before walking to the door. School was waiting for him. People, questions that even he couldn't answer awaited him. The same feeling of anxiety rushed over him as he covered his mouth to stop himself from vomiting. “No i have to do this… I promised mother” He says to himself to gain confidence. It was early, the birds where singing sweet love songs to each other, cars drove by with busy adults trying to make it to work on time. Wilton had forgotten what he loved doing the most on his way to school - the town park. He slowly found his way to the park, the trees all different shades of oranges and browns, they looked warm like amber. Walking down the path way he found memories bounce back into his head. He stopped in his path as he found himself being strangled with emotions. Wilton remembered being here not too long ago, and that same feeling of loss over came him. It hurt him and he didn't like it. What was missing? He asked himself every day and night and being here opened his mind ever so slightly. Wilton breaths in deeply, collecting himself before walking down the old cobble pathway, under the trees who’s leaves showed many colours. He finally saw the school in the distance and his chest started to tighten. The school was a old building, with modern add ons as the years came by but the paint was falling off, there was cracks in the bricks and it was always cold or too hot in side. Other students crowed the gates and wondered there way into the school. Like a pack a zombies, one following another, allowing the school to take away all sense of their mind. But Wilton knew that wouldn’t happen to him, he was his own person. Approaching the front doors he felt the eyes of people go straight too him, but despite his anxiety he continued to walk through the halls. His gut twisted and turned, he put on his hoodie and turned around. I cant be here, I cant be here, i cant be here is all that ran through his mind. Before finding his way to the doors a firmer voice called his name. Wilton stopped in his tracks and turned to see his friends, Eric. “Wilton!” he yelled with the biggest smile on his face. Eric was short and with no nice way of putting it, he was also girly which got him a lot of trouble so Wilton would spend most of his days protecting one of his very few friends.  The smaller male ran up to Wilton, his blonde hair whipping around. As he stood in front of Wilton, his smile didn't dear to fade away. “You’re back… Ive been so lonely without a friend” Eric says and looks down a little. Wilton felt his stomach calm and his body warm as someone had missed him. “Im sorry… I have not been well” He says. Eric shook his head and looks back up at him, his big blue eyes full of happiness to have his friend back. “you don't have to apologise for anything, well expect all the classes you missed” he laughed, that brought a smile to Wiltons cold face. The two walked down the halls, in there own little world like old times before getting to class. Wilton did not miss the classes he could admit and he was thinking about dropping out anyway but Eric had always somewhat convinced him not too. The hours went pass and so did the classes, none of which he enjoyed so he just sat in the back with Eric and mucked around, attest until the only class he enjoyed came along. Music. Music class was the only time he could really find something to put passion and effort into and that made him happy. Ever since the accident he had really taken comfort in his music but had not played a single note of it. “Oh look! Wilton is back!” The teacher says with excitement, she was a rather short lady but she was tough and had a darling smile. Her black, going on grey hair pinned up. Mrs Ellica was that one teacher that gave Wilton inspiration to continue his music and thats something he could use seeing he had some what convinced himself that he couldn't play piano anymore. Wilton gave a smile to his teacher and gave her a hug before taking his normal, old set with the doodles on the desk. This room was always full of positivity and thats something the music students gave out, a positive energy… Well except Wilton. The end of the day came around and Wilton was eager to get himself back into his bed but that would soon be stopped by Eric who wanted to spend time with him. “Im sorry Eric i have a lot of work to do” which wasn’t a lie, but he sure as hell wasn't even going to do it. Disappointment shadowed over his friends face and that saddened Wilton but he was being self-fish and wanted to be alone, a feeling he had gotten so use too over the years. Walking back down the same path he did in the morning ,he felt a chill coming over, it was defiantly gonna snow this winter, he thought. Hearing the crunch of the dying amber leaves on the ground gave a satisfying feeling to his ears. Once he returned to his home he realised mother wasn’t there. Wilton was slightly happy to have the house to himself, putting his bag down and dumping his heavy coat on the chair he ran up the stairs two at a time, this boots thumbing on the wood. If mother was home… i would be in so much trouble. He thought to himself before diving onto his bed in hopes of being wiped away into a dream of happiness and knowledge. Oh how he was wrong.