Falling through the floor. (Part one)

My damn bed fell through the floor. So last night I was sleeping (I know so surprising) and all the sudden I heard a loud crack. I stupidly ignored it and went back to sleep. About a minute later I was crushed in between my bed and someone's piano. The piano had fallen through the floor onto my bed causing my bed to go through the next floor, landing on someone's TV. It hurt like hell but my injuries were fairly minor. I was just really really sore (as can be expected when you get smashed by a piano).

So I guess this means I'm moving, along with two other people. I have no idea where, but the landlord is kind enough to give us some money to search for other prospects (she is really sweet). I have no fucking clue how the hell everything just fell through the floor but it did. It was really loud (thank you, captain obvious).

We were allowed to sleep in an empty apartment, it was cozy, the sleeping arrangements, not so much. I slept in the tub because everyone else was complaining about there being no bed. It wasn't that bad for Pete's sake. Just be happy she didn't kick your sorry ass out on the street.

"Can I stay here with you?" It was a small boy, about seven years old.

"Of course you can," I made some room in the spacious tub, scooting over to one side. "They're kinda loud, aren't they."

Despite me moving over he laid his head gently on my shoulder, a quiet "Yeah," escaping from his small frame.

"I like the quiet." I said, combing through his messy brown hair thoughtfully.

"Me too."

The people in the other room were starting to shout, I stopped my incessant grooming. "Is that your mother shouting?" I whispered to the small boy.

"Yes," He said spitefully. I stroked his hair some more, he clearly didn't like his mother very much.

"Just sleep, it'll be morning before you know it." He breathed softly, his little chest expanding and contracting against mine, it was so peaceful, so serene.

A moment that was quickly broken by the shaking of the bathroom doorknob. Panic flooded through me, "You locked the door!?" This wasn't going to look right.

I shrugged him off my stomach, stood upright, and marched to the door. I unlocked it slowly, fully expecting the burst that came through the door as it unlocked fully.

She looked at me, eyes darting around the diminutive room. Until they landed on the bathtub, her child, her baby, locked in a bathroom...with a man. This did not look good at all, it was revolting how wrong it looked.

She glared death at me before rushing to her child, investigating him for injuries (of course there weren't any). "What happened sweety?"

I realized how much I couldn't relate to in this situation. For after a night of being beat all my mother did was tell me to grow up. And this boy, who wasn't even hurt, was receiving the utmost care and attention.

"What did he do to you?"

Did it not click in her mind that the boy was sleeping before she barged in?

"I-" I put on my best possible innocent face. "He was sleeping."

"With you?!" She spat, she was so close to me now that I could hear her heartbeat, rage colored her face, fists now clenched.

"Whoa, calm down. I didn't try anything! What do you think I am?! A perve?" I shouted in an attempt to get her to settle down.

"Is that true, Lawrence?" She looked at the boy.

"Of course it's true, I'm not a fucking sicko."

The boy nodded in agreement.

"He...he didn't touch you?" She whispered.

That accusation alone was disgusting. It took me a lot of time before I could push that out of my mind.

"No, mom he's my friend."

"I'll just sleep outside." I said quietly. So that's what I did. I stepped outside and it started sprinkling, then raining, then pouring, and just when I thought it couldn't get any worse...it started to hail.

"Hey," a man hovered over where I had camped out beside the building, his umbrella moving over to shelter me from the downpour. "What on earth are you doing out here?" He noticed I was shuddering (as I had been for the last four hours), my teeth chattering like no tomorrow. "Come on," He said tugging on my arm, "Let's get you warmed up."

He let me warm up in his car. The heat blasting on me was so welcoming, comforting, I curled up in the front seat and drifted off.

When I woke up it was dark, no lights except that of the blazing fire I was huddled in front of.

I glanced around blearily, there were lots of trophies and medals mostly for science related stuff, all wood furniture, couches, chairs, side tables, everything was wood. The whole house was a fire hazard.

"Hello?" My voice was shaky.

"Hey," he said nervously from the other room.

I tried to get up.

"Nonononono..." He said excitedly, pushing me gently back to a sitting position, "You need to rest."

"Where am I?" This wasn't a familiar place nor was it a familiar man.

"I'm Peter." He said shyly, "You probably don't remember me."

"You let me in your car." There was a question behind the statement.

"Yes." He said it as though he had expected a different answer. He quickly changed the subject to me, "And your Gabriel."

"Affirmative." I didn't act surprised that he knew my name, I did, after all, have a reputation amongst this small town.

He looked downright nervous, he probably doesn't have company very often, I thought.

"So..." He said, he looked like he wanted to run away and hide. "Y-you want some hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate?"

"Don't tell me, you've never had hot chocolate?"

I nodded.

"You'll like it." He acted like he knew me, like he knew my likes and dislikes enough to make that assumption. He darted into the kitchen and poured me a cup.

He came back and handed it to me. I took a long sip of it, it was rather scrumptious.

"What'd you say your name was?"


Gabriel.

I am breaking these into parts because I can't sit still long enough to write the full thing.