Burdens - Chapter 69: Tired
#69 of Burdens
:T
Chapter 69: Tired
Roger woke up that morning to the faint sound of his alarm. He remembered it being much louder, but for some reason it was softer this morning.
He found himself on the floor and figured that it made sense it was softer: the distance was much greater than usual. He groggily made his way to it and turned it off.
His eyes stung and his body hurt. He was hoping that he would just forget what made him feel that way, but from the very moment he woke up it was already in his mind. He dragged his feet as he walked and he felt heavy.
He heard sounds from downstairs. It could not be his mother, he was sure of that, as she must have already left for work. He figured his father was asleep. Who could it be? A burglar perhaps?
He collected himself and made his way down as quietly as he could. Peeking around the corner, he identified the source of the noise.
His father had seemingly just gotten home.
He spotted the younger fox and said, "Hey, you're up early. And I'm home late, so it's a fair trade. Work had me stay a bit...."
Roger could tell he was tired, and his eyes were bloodshot and his motions were clumsy. Perhaps he was drunk, as well, but he could not smell any alcohol.
"Hey dad..." Roger said. His father looked at him and his expression changed somewhat to concern. He continued, "Can I skip school today? I'm not feeling well."
His father inspected him, looking at his eyes and checking his ears, saying, "You sure, kiddo? You don't have a fever, but you do look tired... your classmates would miss you, wouldn't they? And I know just how... beneficial school tends to be."
The fox did not respond, so his father said, "Alright, I'll give them a call before I go to bed. You should probably get back to it. Get some sleep, okay?"
He nodded and turned to go back to his room.
He curled up in his blankets and he could smell the wolf upon them. It was at the same time soothing as it was painful, and the tears began to well up again. He faced he wall and put his arms around himself. He shut his eyes and imagined that they were Hunter's.
He slept through what would have been the school day, though his sleep was interrupted several times. He always managed to lull himself back into it with enough sobbing.
He felt himself but pitiful and loathed the way he was reacting to the situation. Images of the vixen would flash in his mind, and visions of the wolf would, as well. Sometimes they would be together, and he was beginning to piece up an envisioned future for the two of them, happy and grand. It only hurt more.
His phone had been making noises throughout the day. Just texts from friends, wondering where he was. Even Hunter had texted him. He was concerned, it seemed. Roger frowned in response; the wolf should not be bothered by his well-being. In the end he would just be that catalyst and nothing more.
School ended and if he had judged the time correctly, then the wolf would make an appearance at any moment. He laid still, shaking from fatigue from all the crying, but he was listening intently.
There was nothing. No knock on the door, no ring of a bell. It was silence, and with every minute that passed, his heart sank further. He figured that the wolf was now hanging out with Mary. May they have many children, he thought.
He gave up the hopeless fantasy of his, that he could live happily with the one which he finally admitted to himself that he loved. He knew there was no other way he would react in such a manner for just someone else. He knew the wolf was special, and he knew he had fallen for him.
He got out of bed eventually. Everything hurt, not just emotionally anymore. His stomach began to pain him, even, from the hunger he now felt. He wandered downstairs, searching for food.
His lunch was still on the counter. He took it and ate it, always grateful for his mother's efforts.
It is probably for the best, he thought to himself. What would his parents think? What would the wolf's parents think? Or their friends? What would the wolf even think of it, since he had no way to be sure that his feelings were even reciprocated. He was almost sure that they were not, since now the wolf had found the vixen's company more acceptable.
He had not felt such a way before, and he wondered if he could go back to not feeling like so. Before he met the wolf, he was fine, if a bit angry at the world, but at least it did not hurt him. He went by each day as if they were stepping stones, and he took his time. There were no obstructions or distractions, but now it felt as if he waded through muddy water, full of tacks and thorns.
His parents were gone again. He had the house to himself, and normally he would be fine with such a thing but now it felt lonely. It felt empty, like how he felt inside.
His normal urges were abated, at least he was thankful for that. Even if he tried, he did not think he could put out much of an effort or gather any sort of motivation to do so. He was too tired, and his heart was too heavy.
He knew it was the job he chose to accept. He had his chances, so he had convinced himself. He had no right to be upset at Mary or at Hunter. He could have confessed how he felt to either of them, and things might have worked out differently. His old friend, regret.
Now he was to support them, and he knew he could do it, so long as he could hide just how it affected him. He went to the restroom to practice.
His pain was apparent in his face. Anyone with eyes could have seen it. He scrunched up his face and moved it around a bit with his paws and tried to reset it back to a neutral position. He took deep breaths and yawned and sighed, even pretended to meditate like the monks he had seen on the television.
When he finally thought he had it down, he could always find that pain again. It was in his eyes, and there was nothing he could do to change them.
By now there was no hope of seeing the wolf. It was nearly an hour past the end of school - even if he had crawled to his house, he would have made it by now.
There was a knock on the door, and he walked over to go check who it was.
Probably the mail, he guessed.