#timmywalker

The front door creaked as Allison pushed it open, sliding off her shoes as she walked inside. She set the basket of vegetables down on the counter. Walking up to Kit, she wrapped her hands around his waist, trailing kisses down his neck.

"How was work?" She asked, giving him one last kiss before turning her attention back to the basket of vegetables.

"Slow," Kit responded, adding some uncooked spaghetti noodles into a pot of already boiling water. "But that's not a surprise. We're always slow."

"Mommy! When will dinner be ready?" Timmy asked, peeking his head over the counter. "I'm hungry!"

"Be patient, go back into the living room and play with your sister." Kit intervened, running his fingers through Timmy's shaggy hair.

"Daddy!" Timmy giggled. Emily came running over, pulling on Timmy's sleeve. "I bet I can jump higher than you," Emily teased.

"No you can't, I'm the best jumper in the whole world!" Timmy yelled as they ran out the sliding glass door and into the back yard.

"Don't go too far; dinner will be ready in 10 minutes!" Allison yelled after them. "It's like they never run out of energy."

"Reminds me of when I was their age." Kit said, staring out the kitchen window at his kids playing in the yard. A smile spread across his face. Those kids meant everything to him.

"Whatcha' thinking about?" Allison asked, resting her head on his shoulder as she looked out the window with him.

"Nothing." He took a deep breath, "The spaghetti looks about done, want to get the bowls ready?" She nodded, kissing him on the cheek.

"Here let me do that." Kit insisted, taking a stack of dirty plates out of Allison's hands. "You just relax."

"Alright, if you say so. But I wasn't the one at work all day." Allison said, sitting down on the couch next to Emily and running her fingers through her curly black hair. "You should be the one relaxing" Allison reached to the end table and picked up her copy of Little Women. The spine cracked as she opened it to where she had left off, as Kit began washing the dishes.

"Oh my goodness!" Allison exclaimed after a long moment of silence, catching Kit very off guard. Distracted, Allison didn't pay attention to the sound of colliding dishes and Kit’s disgruntled grunts. "I can not believe that Amy would turn down Fred's wedding proposal! They were meant to be together. Now, who is she go-"

"A-Allis-s-s-on, I-I think I h-hurt my sel-lf." Kit interrupted, Allison's eye's went wide as she realized what just happened. She quickly jumped off the couch as she saw his shoulders begin to quiver.

"Okay, Okay, calm down. it's alright." She started, running to his aid. He stood, frozen, in front of the sink. Wide-eyed staring down at a jagged cut across his palm, his blood ran in thick crimson rivers into the sink where the steak knife laid. She looked up at his expressionless face, his mouth was slightly parted, and his eyes seemed unable to look away from the seemingly neverending cascade of blood draining from his cut. His eyes suddenly shifted. Allison thought for a second that maybe it was going to be okay. That she would bandage him up and they would go to bed happy and peaceful. That he would be able to rationalize the severity of the situation and realize that he's okay, but it's never that easy. Not for him. Not for someone with a mind as damaged as Kit’s. In his mind, any unplanned event could cause a lifetime of traumas to flash before his eyes. She can see the panic begin to set in. It starts in his face, he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. Everything moved in slow motion as Kit fell to his knees, his hands pressed to the ground, blood splattered the peeling linoleum floor. His breathing accelerated, and his heart began to pound against his ribs like an animal trapped in a cage. "Kit, baby, I need you to breathe," Allison begged placing a hand on his shoulder. Kit's body jerked away as he backed up, his back slamming against the old kitchen cabinets. His chest heaved as his blood slick hands grabbed fistfuls of his dark brown hair. Blood slowly dripped down his face, staining his pallid skin. He looked up at her with his manic eyes, his breathing now distorting into a labored wheeze.

"P-p-please, don-nt" He started, his vision disfiguring as if he was looking through a fish-eye lens. "Plea-ase d-d-don't try t-to he-elp. I don-t-t wan-t-t to hurt y-you." Tears began to drip down his face; hiccups racked his body as he placed his hands over his eyes — blood smearing across his face.

"I'm not afraid of you Kit. But you need to calm down," Alison said inching closer to him.

"No! No, d-d-don't touch me" Kit screamed trying to back away further, but instead, slammed himself into the kitchen cabinet again.

"Mommy?" Emily whispered, sticking her head out from over the counter. "What's going on?"

"Emily, I need you to listen to me. Go get Timmy and go play in your bedroom," Allison said. Emily nodded as she wiped stray tears from her cheeks.

"Oh god, oh god w-what d-d-id I do." Kit exclaimed, pulling his knees to his chest and squeezing his hands into tight fists. His nail beds began to turn purple as his breathing became even more erratic. He squeezed his eye's shut and his face twisted into a distorted grimace as the flashbacks started. All of the torture he endured being replayed over and over again. He cried as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. From his mouth came raw gut-wrenching cries. Allison stifled a cry of her own. There was nothing she could do except watch. Watch as her husband sat on the kitchen floor, covered in blood, shaking so violently she thought he might single-handedly cause an earthquake. He felt like he was losing his mind; he was unraveling like a spool of loose thread. The whole world felt like a blur.

"You need to slow down your breathing. Take some deep breaths" Kit could tell Allison was talking to him, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not understand what she was saying. "You're not at Briarcliff anymore" He could feel himself screaming, saliva dripping down his chin. But he is trapped in what feels like an eternal silence. The only sound he can hear is Dominique playing over and over in his head. It's engraved it's self into his brain like the grooves of the record. "You're at home, with your family" He could feel his face becoming hot as pins and needles crept up his arms starting in his fingertips. Kit felt like he was gasping for breath, his esophagus spasming, sending him into a seemingly unending coughing fit. His cheeks began to feel cold, and his hands clammy, he couldn't even tell if he was crying anymore. His body was starting to go numb. He peeled his eyes open, but thick salty tears blurred his vision. He wiped the spit from his mouth, smearing blood across his lips. His whole body felt numb, and his head felt like a weight upon his shoulders. He didn't even notice Allison's arms wrapped around him, her hands rubbing soothing circles on his back. His body couldn't take much more of this. His vision began to lag. Next thing he knew, he had been completely engulfed in darkness. No more crying. No more screaming.  The only thing he could feel now was his heart, beating as if he had just run a marathon.

Allison looked down at the boy lying in her arms. Silent tears crept down her face as she held him. Drying blood matted his hair to his forehead, and stray tears leaked from his closed eyes. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths. The kitchen was scattered with bloody handprints that she hoped would wash off. But that was the least of her concerns right now. She wasn't sure what to do next. After a long moment of silence, Allison felt a small hand tap her on the shoulder. She wiped her eyes before turning her head around to see Emily and Timmy. They gave her a small smile and sat down next to her; she pulled them in closer. A sob she didn't even know she was holding back erupted from her chest.

"Is daddy going to be okay?"

“I hope so”

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