Distance Till Home

TWS: Abuse, hints towards ed, disassociation???, drinking, alcohol abuse, car wreck, death,

(if I missed any, please let me know!)

Tommy was sitting on an uncomfortable wooden deck swing, waiting for his social worker to come and pick him up for the fourth time this month. There were a few police cars parked in the front yard, someone had called the police. They must've heard my screaming.

He was shaking all over still and his breathing was still slightly ragged, there were clear tear tracks on his face. He was suddenly reliving the terrible morning he had so far.

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Tommy had awoken to a loud slamming door, he sat up swiftly causing him to get slightly dizzy at first.

He scooted to the side of the bed and dangled his legs over the side of his bed for a minute before standing up and waking over to his mirror like he always did every morning, it was habit at this point. He instantly began spotting every little thing he didn't like about himself.

His hair was too short for starters, it had been cut badly by his current foster parent. It was a punishment for asking if he could have a glass of water. He was thirsty, he hadn't had a drink at all that day.

He hated how fat he looked, he always looked fat, when in reality he was skinny for his age, when he took his shirt off you could see his ribs and on his hand, you could see his knuckles.

His eyes were dark and sunken in, You could tell he was tired, not just from his eyes but from his horrid eye bags.

He didn't sleep well, or often. The three-hour sleep he had just been awoken from was his first in nearly three days.

He looked away from the tall wall mirror and walked over to his bedroom door, he reached for the handle hesitantly twisted it, and opened the door.

He slipped out into the semi-dark hallway and as quietly as possible closed his bedroom door and began creeping down the hallway. He stood near the stairs before carefully and quietly stalking down them. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Tommy thought.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs he started heading towards the kitchen to get a drink, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw his foster father standing near the counter with a beer in hand.

He started to back away, hoping the horrid man wouldn't notice him but it was too late when he turned to look at Tommy.

"Good morning, Thomas." his foster parent spoke bitterly. "Good on you to be up, I need you to do me a favor kiddo." As he spoke, he took a few wobbly steps toward Tommy until he was right in front of him, staring down at him.

Tommy was too scared to back away any farther, if he did, who knows what his father would do if he tried. So, he just stood there, there were hundreds of thousands of thoughts screaming in his mind, the voices that made him feel insane going wild.

He is going to kill you

He is going to hurt you

You deserve this

It's good character development.

It'll make you into a better person.

You'll realize this was all for the greater good when you are older.

Tommy was smacked out of his thoughts, quite literally, his cheek stung, really bad, he was sure if he looked into a mirror, it would be beet red. He looked up at his foster parent only to be smacked again.

This time he saw the movement which only seemed to make the pain hurt more, or maybe it was just his brain? Wait, why does this all feel like a dream? He thought before being torn from his thoughts by a loud and angry voice. "You listen when I talk to you!" his foster father slurred as he grabbed Tommy's shoulders and threw him to the ground, Tommy couldn't help but scream as he was kicked and punched, everything hurt, everything.

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Tommy wasn't quite sure how long the beating went on, all he knew was that he screamed and screamed for a long time. Even now, he wasn't quite sure if he could speak or not, his throat felt dry and rough. He was very happy none of the officers had asked him anything yet. He knew if they didn't his social worker would. Tommy sighed, he hated this, all of this. Why couldn't things go back to the way they were when he was young?

He was two when his parents passed away. All three of them had gotten into a car accident, Tommy being the only survivor. It was meant to be a happy day, it was Tommy's birthday.

They had taken him to the beach and they were on their way to get ice cream before heading home to have a family movie night. They were going to watch Up, one of Tommy's favorites.

But, then a semi-truck drove them off the highway they were on, their car rolled off the side of the road and down a small hill into the woods before being stopped by a tangle of fallen trees and branches.

When the emergency services arrived, the car caught fire and his parents insisted Tommy was to be taken out first. They died because they saved him.

Tommy was snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar car pulling into the driveway before shutting off. Tommy watched as his social worker got out of the car and talked with a few police officers before finally climbing the porch. She crouched in front of Tommy, her greenish-blue eyes round with worry. "Tommy, are you okay?" she asked.

Tommy didn't even meet her eyes, he just kept his head down, currently, his hand was more interesting to him as he picked at his nails and cuticles.

"Sure, Puffy. I'm perfectly okay." He muttered. "I just watched another foster parent get arrested. I'm fantastic!" He slightly raised his voice at her, he didn't mean to, well he did, but he didn't at the same time. He was angry, not at Puffy, at everything.

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Tommy was in Puffy's car, they were driving down one of the local interstates. Wait, when did I get in the car? Wait, how long has Puffy been talking? It's really warm, too warm.

"Tommy, were you listening?" Puffy asked, a slight hint of irritation in her voice.

"No, sorry Cara, I zoned out." Puffy sighed. "You've been doing that a lot as of lately..." she muttered.

Tommy decided to pretend he didn't hear her. He looked out the window and saw a few semi-trucks, he immediately felt his blood pressure and anxiety rise. He tried hard to push it away and ignore it, he didn't have to worry about Puffy.

It's okay.

It's fine.

The likes of that happening again are low.

It's okay.

Everything's fine.

Everything will be ok!

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Tommy stood outside a local group home, a couple of small bags in his hand. He doesn't remember packing his stuff, according to Puffy he packed it while she was filling out a police form.

Apparently, he also swore at a police officer who was trying to help him gather his things, he was lucky not to get in trouble other than being told to watch his language. Well, more so just hearing the word "language!" more than anything else.

He looked at Puffy, he didn't want to go back into this group home. "Why are we here again? Puffy, you promised!" Tommy felt anger rise up in him once again today.

"I know- Tommy you shouldn't even have to spend the night. It's only for the day. I should be able to pull a few strings and get you into another emergency foster home, hopefully, a good long-term one this time."

She pulled Tommy into a tight hug, although he barely reacted, just standing there letting her hug him, he wasn't very good with social cues and although he loved hugs, he would never admit it. After all, who would want to hug an orphan? The only person who ever did was Puffy, and that's only because she feels obligated to. Right? That has to be why. There's no other good reason.

"Okay, fine. I'll stay. But if I end up being here for the night, I'll leave myself." Tommy threatened, to which Puffy just chuckled.

"I'm sure after the last few times, everyone will be keeping an eye out for you to make sure you don't run away."

Puffy led Tommy over to the front door of the large gray brick building before knocking. Shortly after, a brown-haired woman opened up, she wore a striped sweater with long jeans and a black beanie.

"Welcome back, Tommy." she smiled.

Tommy didn't like the fact she was smiling, he didn't like the fact it felt real, and he didn't like the fact Puffy was smiling too. "Why don't you make your way up to your room? It's the same one as last time, same bed too."

Tommy nodded and quickly walked down the short corridor and up the stairs without even saying goodbye to Puffy.

{Words: 1537} A/N; Thank you for reading my new SBI Fanfic! I promise the next chapters will be longer! - Addie (March 14th, 2023)