Living in Surreality - 7. Chapter 7

chapter 7:
: edited by viv :

Valerie stormed out of the house leaving the door to slam harshly in her wake, furious with Jacob for the pain he was causing Matt, and frustrated with Matt's stoic silence. She was set in her aim, wanting to do nothing more than rush to Matt, hold him, and wash all the fears he was suffering through away. That was what she was planning on doing, soothing Matt, that was, until her eyes fell on Jacob's house. Jacob's house sat there, dark and brooding, alone and quiet across the street, and that sight caused Valerie's anger and frustration to boil over, Matt forgotten in the heat of the moment as she altered her course. Blindly, Valerie crossed the street, she knew this was a quiet and seldom traveled street at night so traffic wasn't even a thought.

Valerie was furious, angry that Jacob had the audacity to move onto her street, pissed that he had upset her life. Valerie knew in that moment, that night Jacob had moved in, as he and Matt stood in the dancing shadows cast by the grand oak trees as they waltzed in the slight evening breeze, she knew, part of her Matty had been torn from her grasp. She had felt it in her chest, the lingering gaze of this confident stranger, with eyes sparkling like gold in the amber street light, ripping Matt away from her.

Valerie strode with determined purpose, up the shadowy front porch, stopping only to suck in a breath, puffing her chest as she pounded on the front door relentlessly until the fleshy meat of her palm burned with pain. The anger she felt was undeterred by the apparent vacancy of the house, and Valerie dropped like a stone onto the front porch swing, her eyes narrowing on the driveway as she crossed her arms over her chest, intent on waiting Jacob out.

She didn't have to wait long stewing in the anger she held, only fifteen minutes, before Ms. Keats' Ford Explorer pulled into the drive, the headlights illuminating the porch momentarily. Valerie quickly stood, moving into the glow of the streetlights, where she would be visible. Valerie watched, holding her breath, as Joanne and Jacob climbed from the vehicle, heading for their front door.

"Valerie, hun," Joanne said as she approached Valerie's guarded figure, "are you okay dear?"

"Yes Ma'am, I just need to talk to Jacob," Valerie said, presenting Joanne with a fake half smile that withered as her eyes rolled onto Jacob.

"Is everything alright," Joanne asked her voice thin and laced with concern.

"I just need to clear something up is all," Valerie answered as convincingly as she could, her eyes never leaving Jacob.

Joanne looked her over shortly before glancing over her shoulder at Jacob, who stood back looking apprehensive. She could have figured that this turn of events was the culmination of a lovers quarrel. Joanne knew her son however, she knew it wasn't Valerie Jacob's attention had been focused on the past few months; it wasn't Valerie that had caught his eye when they arrived at their home on that first day.

Jacob shuffled his feet nervously under the stares from his mother and Valerie. Wanting nothing more than to pull his mom aside and explain everything to her, explain how he had messed up again, even though he promised her he wouldn't, in that moment, under his mother's supportive gaze, it was Mrs. Hunts charming southern drawl that flitted though his mind. 'We must learn from history, or we will be doomed to repeat it'. Jacob let out a stifled sigh as his eyes caught those of his mother; she knew him better then anyone, and now, he just wished she wouldn't be disappointed over the way he reacted toward Matt today.

Valerie watched the silent communication between Jacob and his mother, wishing for the briefest moment that her father was there to give her the silent confidence Joanne seemed to give Jacob. For a moment, she felt regret, regret for Matt's pain, regret for Joanne having to arrive home to what was happening now. Had Valerie taken a moment to clearly think about what she was doing, she would have realized Matt had been left hanging, without knowledge of her plan, not that confronting Jacob on his front porch was her plan. Valerie only wanted to fix whatever it was that Jacob had broken, not complicate everything by ending up on Jacob's front porch.

"Ok sweetheart," Joanne said, her voice holding little understanding. She gave Valerie's shoulder a light squeeze before she leveled a look at Jacob that let him know that she had every intention of getting to the bottom of this. Jacob nodded his silent assent, and satisfied she would have answers, Joanne brushed past Valerie and entered the house.

As soon as Ms. Keats made her way into the craftsman style house, Valerie's expression degraded, taking on a darker, menacing tone as her eyes locked with ferocity onto Jacob who seemed to be trying to hide in the shadows from her stare.

"Where do you get off Jacob Keats?" Valerie demanded, her voice filled with absolute distaste, her hands landing on her hips as she stepped toward him.

"I..." Jacob stammered, looking for an answer, his feet stumbling backwards.

"Do you know people have been saying some pretty nasty things? Things which have gotten worse since you moved here," she spat advancing further towards him. "Did you know some of those things where about you and Matty?"

"No, I..." he again tried to step away from her.

"I'm not done yet," Valerie yelled through gritted teeth, suppressing the urge to reach out and strike Jacob as she again found herself taking a step towards his retreat.

"Do you think I don't care about his feelings or yours?" Jacob growled, tired of being Valerie's fall guy. He stepped into her advance, effectively ending his failed retreat from Valerie and the fight she was looking for.

Valerie, stunned by the sudden change in Jacob's demeanor, stared wide eyed as he advanced on her, some of the regret she felt in Ms. Keats presence returning.

"Do you think I managed to do this just to make your poor Matty look bad?" Jacob asked, holding his bandaged right arm high in its sling.

Valerie was left silent by Jacob's sudden verbal onslaught, her eyes moving from the lock she held on his eyes, to the wrapped arm he held out for her to see. "So he broke your arm did he? You deserve it?" Val questioned menacingly in an attempt to save face.

"No," Jacob answered sternly. "He... said I was nothing," Jacob frowned, Matt's words from that afternoon swirling through his mind, feeding the self doubt breeding there. "Instead of breaking his jaw, I dented a locker door," he finished, breaking the gaze Valerie held on him, preferring to watch a cricket, which scurried along the cement walk in front of his shoe.

"You wouldn't," Valerie admonished in a whisper, her fingers grasping at the simple golden heart necklace she wore as she stepped backward into Jacob's darkened front porch.

"No?" he questioned, his head lifting quickly and fixing Valerie with a demanding gaze, stepping towards her with a confidant stride, stopping only when he had backed her against his front door.

"No," Valerie's voice trembled, noticing the role reversal as she stared at his silhouetted face.

Jacob watched Valerie intently in the dim light that filtered onto the front porch. He noticed how her eyes sparkled with fear in the darkness, felt the way her body trembled nervously, Jacob knew his next move and the mere thought of it had his own nerves quivering. Tenuously, Jacob leaned forward, his eyes closing. Valerie saw it coming, raising both of her fists; Valerie delivered a light pounding grasp to Jacob's shoulders, the only form of protest she could muster as his lips gently met hers.

"What did we just do," she whispered, breaking the kiss as her hands smoothed over Jacob's biceps, pushing him back, her eyes searching out his.

Jacob shrugged an answer, feeling somewhat guilty; his eyes cast downward, fixing on the golden heart necklace that rested comfortably in the cleft of her chest. He offered no other answer to the sound of Valerie's expectant breaths which came heavily, lapping along his neck the way a slow wave caresses the shore. Daring to look her in the eyes again, Jacob lifted his head, intent on saying goodnight and going inside. The words however, never left the tip of his tongue though, as his head lifted and Jacob's eyes were forced shut with a dull throb that originated at his nose, as Valerie's lips crushed his. This second kiss was not as fleeting or innocent as the first had been; the simple act became more urgent, deliberate on Valerie's part. Jacob stumbled backward in the darkness, shocked at the force of Valerie's kiss. Valerie didn't let his lips escape hers though, following him as they collided with the wooden porch swing.

Valerie relented after the blind fumble, long enough to let Jacob pull him self completely onto the swing, settling into a more comfortable position. She was on top him instantly, the force of her mount sending the back of Jacob's head crashing into the clapboard siding of the house.

"Ouch..." he groaned, rubbing the back of his head with his un-bandaged hand.

Thrill rushed through Valerie, her hand brushing across the front of his loose jeans, stopping to squeeze the aching lump the denim held captive, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jacob. She felt so many things holding him as she was; the muted throb of his heart beat through the dense cotton was definitely one of them. The others were not as readily tangible, fear, excitement, betrayal.

For all the fear and excitement that ran through Valerie's body, confusion ran through Jacob's. He hadn't counted on the small kiss he had given her turning into her hand openly rubbing the length of his erection through the stiff fabric of his jeans. He had only meant it as a diversion, a way to get her to stop being mad at him, apparently it had worked, too well. Now, as her deft fingers pulled the leather of his belt free from the buckle, Jacob was flooded with contempt and overriding lust, for which he cursed his hormones as he watched Valerie's delicate fingers pop the button of his fly and achingly track the zipper down. Fighting with himself, Jacob continued to watch as Valerie peeled the flaps of his fly wide open revealing the obscene visage of his erection shrouded in a pair of red tartan boxers.

Valerie gasped at the sight, a noise escaping her lips that sent a shiver racing from Jacob's tail bone all the way to the base of his skull, causing the hairs of the back of his neck to stand on end in awareness. A sharp hiss escaped his clenched jaw, his chest heaving as Valerie trace a cool fingertip along the length of his cloaked heat. Closing his eyes, Jacob surrendered to Valerie and the sensations her delicate hands extracted.

Her shoulders shuddered with excitement, a smile curling the side of her mouth as Valerie observed Jacob's surrender. Leaning in, her lips found his; sucking his bottom lip between hers, Valerie grasped his erection with renewed purpose. Jacob whimpered lightly against her lips as Valerie increased the pressure of her grip, dragging the cotton of his boxers along his length. Raising his right arm, Jacob remembered it was hopelessly wrapped before lowering it and raising his left hand to Valerie's cheek, sliding his fingers around the base of her scalp as he let his thumb rub her earlobe gently, pressing his lips forward, and returning the kiss she gave.

His touch was encouraging and gentle, too gentle, too loving, and it discouraged Valerie. She loved it, wanting his fingers that were sliding through her silken hair to stay there forever. Valerie knew however, that the touch wasn't meant for her. Just as the murmur of excitement she felt when she caught Jacob staring at Matt was a vicarious feeling of excitement, this gentle touch too was destined for Matt.

"I can't," Valerie whispered the words against Jacob's lips, breaking the kiss. "I can't hurt him," Valerie sighed, resting her forehead on Jacob's.

Jacob had a burning desire to ask who, even though he already knew the answer. Instead of asking, he lightly turned her head and softly kissed her cheek as she climbed off of him. Jacob and Valerie shared a quiet glance before she turned around and walked away. Sighing, Jacob glanced down at the fly of his pants which had been left gaping open, his gaze drifting to the right and to his bandaged arm. He groaned as he attempted to make himself decent before he went inside, wondering how he was going to alleviate himself of this problem with his arm in the condition it was.

Once he had himself in some semblance of decency, Jacob stepped off his front porch and shuffled slowly along the drive in an attempt to clear his head, before wandering back inside to talk with his mother. Jacob's gaze lingered on Matt's dark house as a pair of moths drew his attention away. He watched as his mind drifted over several things as the two moths frolicked in the bright amber shine of the streetlamp, their bodies colliding briefly and then fluttering away, only to repeat the action, trying in vain to harness the brilliance of the amber light. Jacob wondered as he watched, was that his fate, to only flutter around what he desired? Never being able to obtain what nature had driven him to want in a way that self preservation and life itself were a mere afterthought. Faced with yet another question he couldn't hope to find an answer to, Jacob turned, making his way back to the shadowed recess of the front porch and the inevitable talk with his mother that lay beyond it.

A familiar smell assailed Jacob's nostrils as he pushed the front door open and stepped through. Fresh brewed coffee, a smell which Jacob was all too aware most people found a comfort in, the scent only accentuated the sag in his shoulders as he closed the front door. He headed through the front room to the kitchen beyond, the smell becoming stronger and leading the way. Jacob paused, leaning a shoulder on a wall, watching his mother slowly stirring an earthen-ware mug of coffee that she had yet to take a drink from.

Joanne looked up, offering Jacob a small smile as she pulled the spoon from the mug, tapping it twice on the rim as she did. Jacob accepted the smile as an invitation and moved into the kitchen properly, taking the seat to his mothers left. Joanne's hand snaked across the table, brushing over Jacob's wrist as he sat next to her. Joanne wanted to say something, anything, to rid the look defeat she saw in her son as he sat there, she just didn't know where to begin or what the problem was. Jacob couldn't imagine where to start. The first kiss with Matt, the rumors, the locker, or the second kiss, should he even mention what just happened with Valerie? There were so many questions swirling through his mind about this mess, he found that he didn't know which to ask first.

"Did you wear through the bottom?" he finally decided on asking, his head motioning towards the coffee mug.

Joanne chuckled lightly, shaking her head as her hand grasped Jacob's wrist tighter.

Jacob sighed as he looked into the pleading eyes of his mother. "I screwed up again," he managed to say, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I promised you I wouldn't, and I didn't mean to but..."

"Oh honey," Joanne said, pushing out of her seat, kissing Jacob's temple as she pulled his seated torso into a hug.

"I tried not to, I really did. I didn't mean to, he just makes it so easy, and..." Jacob choked out the words, one on top of the other as his mother held him tight. Joanne shushed her son, one hand soothing his shoulder, while the other held his head firmly.

"Shh..." Joanne cooed. "Start from the beginning."

"I like Matt," Jacob blurted out with his mothers urging. Joanne simply rolled her eyes at her sons' statement of the obvious. "We kissed, and..." Jacob stopped, pulling away from his mother before he spelled it out too much.

Joanne gave her son a final squeeze before breaking away. "Was Matt the reason for the fight?" Joanne asked, reclaiming her abandoned seat.

"Yeah," Jacob explained, nodding his head, "but that was before the kiss, before I knew if he felt the same way."

"Does he?" Joanne asked simply, grabbing for the mug of coffee that was resting on the table ahead of her.

"Yes... no..." Jacob's face scrunched as different memories played across his mind. "I don't know, I thought he did. It sure seemed like he did, or I wouldn't have..." Jacob trailed off, the look of horror on Matt's face as he spun around in the school hallway engrained on Jacob's memory, "He said I was nothing and it hurt Mom," Jacob admitted, looking up from the table top, where his eyes had drifted with the admission.

"Jacob," Joanne softly tried to interrupt her son, who now had tears steadily streaming down both of his flushed cheeks.

"It hurt," Jacob repeated, intent on getting it all done with, "and I wanted to hurt him for doing that..." Jacob paused with realization, sniffling, "I just couldn't... no matter how much I wanted to shove him against the locker, I just punched it instead."

"Honey," Joanne coaxed gently, pulling Jacob's focus to her, "did Matt say that to you, to your face?" Joanne asked, her hand reaching up and rubbing his shoulder. Jacob slowly shook his head, answering her silently. "Is it possible he didn't mean what he was saying? Could he have trying to protect the two of you?"

Jacob's face twisted at the implication of his mother's words. It was indeed possible that protecting their secret was Matt's only motivation, and not the pain his words had unintentionally caused Jacob. Now Jacob felt miserable for his reaction to the small comment. It wasn't meant to be hurtful, hell Matt didn't even know Jacob was standing less then five feet behind him, he couldn't have seen the broad smile on Jacob's face, or how quickly that smile had eroded with the words Matt spoke.

"Jacob," Joanne's soothing voice halting Jacob's urge to groan in defeat, killing the urge he felt to just collapse onto the kitchen table into nothing more than a sobbing mass of worthless flesh, "Honey, have you talked to Matt? Have you told him how you feel about him? Asked him how he feels about you?"

"No," Jacob frowned, wiping the tears away. "Now he'll probably never talk to me again," Jacob's jaw set as he spoke, the self pity he felt being replaced with anger. "I really fucked myself over this time."

"Jacob Brandon Keats!" Joanne admonished, her hand withdrawing from his should as if he were in flames, not liking the direction he had taken, "stop being an ass and, don't use that fucking language at this table." The moment the words left her mouth, Joanne's hand quickly flew up to cover her lips, her eyes went wide, sparkling with silent laughter.

Jacob's eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sound his mother uttering the 'F' word. He would certainly have to circle this day in red, the first time he had ever heard her use that piece of her vocabulary. Jacob's immediate reaction was laughter, laughter at the way that particular word sounded so strange coming from his mother, laughter at the hypocritical statement it flew out in.

"Jacob," Joanne continued as she composed herself, "it's quite possible he is across the street beating himself up just as much as you are. I think you should talk to him, don't let something he said to someone else mess up everything you and he have invested."

Jacob stood so fast the chair he was sitting in nearly toppled over backwards before he quickly caught it. Joanne was glad to see the defeat had disappeared from his eyes, being replaced with hope. She was even happy to see that he was so eager to rush across the street at a quarter till ten at night.

"Jacob," Joanne said, standing and turning towards the sink where she dumped the worries about her son down the drain with out ever having taken one sip, "not tonight, it's a school night and he's probably asleep. If not, his parents are."

"Oh," Jacob said, a look of disappointment washing over his face as he up righted the chair he had caught. "Right."

Joanne couldn't help but chuckle as she closed the distance between them, enveloping her son in a hearty hug before ruffling his hair. "There's always tomorrow."

Viola had labored the drive home from the supermarket with her husband in silence, her eyes fixed on the darkened familiar streets of Oak Meadow. The silence droned on as they arrived home. Viola stepped from the car before Richard had a chance to kill the engine, and stalked off through the front door. The scream in her gut demanded she make a bee line to the kitchen where an assortment of bottles with varying labels waited to dull the dry constriction Viola felt in her throat. She ignored the wanton call of her gut, heading instead to her right and down the hall towards her bedroom. Steeling her resolve, Viola opened the sliding door to Richard's closet and removed a suitcase, unzipping it as she laid it on the bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Richard barked, looking harried, his tie loosely hanging around his neck as he entered the room and saw his suitcase lying open on the edge of the bed.

"I meant what I said in the car Richard," Viola said, moving away from the bed to a small oak vanity that sat in the corner of the room. "I've had enough, I would've... I have... tolerated a lot of things, but not what I witnessed tonight," she continued, removing her diamond earrings and throwing them into the small rosewood jewelry box that sat atop the vanity where she sat watching Richard's reflection in the mirror. "We're done," she finished.

Viola stood, crossing the master bedroom suite and entering the bathroom, stopping at the medicine cabinet, where her hand paused. Silently she watched as Richard stood behind her dribbling his innocence, while throwing clothes into a suitcase as she pulled the cabinet open, retrieving a yellow prescription bottle. Regretting what she was about to do, but still to weak to stop it, Viola twisted the cap easily and slid two small white pills into the palm of her hand.

"That's right Viola, run away so no one can hurt you," he said, sneering at the woman he had thought of as his wife, snatching clothes and throwing them into his suitcase.

Without any reaction to his words, Viola's mouth opened mechanically, and she slid to the two pills her palm held into her mouth, followed quickly by a long drink of water.

Her eyes stared straight ahead in the mirror, "Only after you run to whatever bitch it will be tonight," she hissed. "We were never good enough for you Richard, our son or me. So go run to your trophy whore, I'm sure she'll look better in photographs."

Richard stared at his wife, lost for words, and for the first time in the history of their marriage, he found himself in a quandary. His mouth opened to deliver a scathing retort, but nothing came as she stood steadfast, oblivious to his presence.

"Just go," Viola said, lowering her head as she brushed past him and returned to the master suite.

"I'll be back this weekend," Richard said, pausing after he had followed her from the bathroom, his hand grasping the bedroom doorknob.

"Can't miss that photo op with the pastor," Viola smirked meekly, sinking into the welcoming arms of their... her bed.

Matt stood silently in the dark hallway, wet eyes watching shadows slide across the bottom of the sealed door. This nightly exchange was nothing new, except for the fact that tonight, his mother sounded sober. A condition Matt was sure would change quickly, with the aide of XANAX. With that thought, Matt sank quietly back into the dark depths of the hall, distancing himself from the sliver of light that escaped from the bottom of his parents' bedroom door, his eyes still red and swollen from the earlier conversation with Valerie. The hallway flooded with light as his father opened the door. Matt stood frozen in its garish grace. Richard gave him an appraising glance as he made his way down the hall. Suffering what Richard could only describe as a moment of weakness, he felt concern for his son when he saw the state of his swollen puffy eyes. The concern he felt for his child quickly eroded into distaste as he shook his head.

"You need to grow up," he said with a sneer. "If the world knows it can hurt you, it will bend over backwards to do so." He wouldn't comfort his son like so many dads did on TV, instead only shaking his head in disappointment as he continued down the hallway.

Matt stood steadfast, his eyes threatening to sting again, as he thought that this must have been the worst day of his life. Hearing the front door open and then close, Matt retreated to his bedroom. Shadows thrown by the branches of the large Oak that stood outside his window danced across his walls as Matt climbed into his bed silently, trying to hold the tears at bay. His dad had left, his mother was too medicated now to realize he was home, Valerie had hung up on him in disgust, and he had alienated Jacob all in one day. It had indeed been the worst day he could remember.

Richard stormed through the front door, cursing his wife, the son who could do nothing in the face of hardship but cry, and the world around him for the troubles it brought. So focused was Richard in his hate, he failed to see the bastard across the street disappear indoors. Bastard, that's exactly what he had thought of Jacob, it was the one word that echoed through his mind whenever his son spoke of the kid across the street. After all, how well would any child turn out with out the guidance of a father?

The man pushed his anger aside long enough to depress the button on the Mercedes key to shut the alarm off. Cursing the world again, Richard tore harshly at the rear passenger door handle, throwing the door open. He barely waited a second before he was tossing the hastily packed suitcase in the back. Richard's eyes falling on the suitcases brought another string of scathing curses, dealing mostly with how the clothes were shoved in haphazardly and unorganized.

Valerie slipped through her front door, plagued by a series of mixed emotions and confusing signals. She had kissed Jacob, she could rationalize that he had kissed her first, he had, but nowhere near what she had unleashed on him. Just where the urge to do that came from she didn't know, and she didn't want too either. Sighing, she collapsed on the door, her mind chewing on the fact that there was something between Jacob and Matt that neither would say. They didn't have too, she knew, had suspected for a long time, but now she knew. The way Jacob didn't press her to continue what she had started, the way he didn't ask whom she thought she would be hurting if they continued.

Matt... Valerie's thoughts ran together, blending and swirling like the ingredients in a cake batter being swept around by a mixer, they all led to Matt.

"Shit," Valerie said, speaking to the tall grandfather clock that dominated the entryway, realizing that she had left Matt hanging on the phone. Without care of the time, Valerie spun her body around and twisted the handle.

Richard slammed the back passenger door with enough force that it sent the luxury sedan rocking on its suspension and an echo of his anger reverberating through the canyon of homes. In turn, he walked a few steps and ripped the driver's side door open with just as much ferocity.

"Is Matt up?" Valerie asked, sounding small in the face of the man she wanted nothing to do with, especially after her run in with him in the grocery store. How Matt came out of this mans' home as smart, self assured, and loving as he was, was something Valerie found amazing, and liked to think she had a hand in.

Richard looked Valerie over, starting at her chest, moving downward and back up before his gaze rested on the fear he found messing up her pretty face. Fear... that was a funny emotion for the little harlot to feel in his presence. He had never done anything to elicit such an emotion from her. He'd always treated her like an angel. Richard's brow furrowed further, he had been looking for a person to blame all night, and one had just presented herself.

"Go home you little cock teasing tramp, you've done enough to my family for one night," Richard said, his face looking as if he wanted to vomit the words onto her feet.

Valerie stumbled backwards, away from the verbal assault Richard had laid on her unfairly. She watched, stunned as her best friend's father slammed his body into the leather seat, pulling the door roughly closed. Tears, streaked her face, as the car started and pulled out of the drive, before racing off down the street, leaving her as alone in the darkness as she felt inside.

Valerie's shoulders sagged, thinking there could be some precision in the words the man who had known her all her life, had so smugly thrown on her. Thinking back to the way she shot Matt down when he had asked her to go out with him. It wasn't a total rejection; she had left him hanging with what? A definite maybe? Why? Why couldn't she have just told him she didn't see him that way? He was the person she wanted to bitch about bad boyfriends too. Not that she could protect him from the one bad boyfriend she had. Then there was the thing with Jacob, it had happened only moments before, she could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers. What was that? She stopped it, before it had gone too far, and for what, a boy that she really just didn't see that way.

Again Matt crept into her thoughts, an overriding drive to protect him. She didn't know where it came from or when it had manifested itself, but somewhere through the years of friendship, Valerie had felt there was something in Matt that needed to be guarded. His feelings alone came before hers. Wiping the tears away, Valerie straightened her shoulders, pushing whatever hurt that man's words and earlier actions had caused deep inside. Pushing them to a place to be dealt with later, now, she had to be strong for Matt. If she wasn't, she didn't know who else would be, and the consequences of that if that strength were absent, well, Valerie didn't want to even imagine those.

The sweet embrace of sleep was Matt's only hope for escape. It would offer him little solace, heart wrenching dreams of Valerie spitting on him, laughing as she grabbed Jay's arm, and Jacob watching the scene from the distance, offering no help. All too soon though, the day brought relief to the troublesome dreams of the night, his eyes drifted open, Matt felt more tired than night before. He couldn't bring himself to get out of bed, not that he wanted too at any rate, and as he lay there remembering the horrid dream, Matt found the hope of Jacob decking Jay funny considering all that had happened yesterday.