The Touch - Rewrite

I knew better than to expect anything from birthdays, but when I turned eight, I didn’t know it yet.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made every little sound feel louder than it should have been. I sat on the edge of the bed with my hands folded in my lap, staring at the door like it might open on its own.

It didn’t.

I told myself it didn’t matter. It was just another day. That was what I tried to believe when I woke up, but the thought kept pushing its way back in, louder each time it returned.

It’s my birthday.

The words didn’t feel right. They didn’t belong there, but they wouldn’t go away. I shifted slightly on the bed, my fingers tightening together as I stared at the door, waiting for something to happen. The longer I waited, the more it felt like I had already done this before, like I was sitting in the same place, thinking the same thing, over and over again.

Nothing changed.

I should have stayed in my room, kept the thought to myself, let the day pass like it didn’t matter.

I didn’t.

He was in the living room when I stepped out, sitting in his chair with the television on. The volume was low, barely loud enough to hear, and there was an empty bottle on the table beside him. He didn’t look at me right away, just stared at the screen like I wasn’t there.

I stopped in the doorway, my chest tightening in a way that felt familiar even though I couldn’t place why. Something about the room felt wrong. Too still. Like the air was waiting for something to happen.

“Um… it’s my birthday.”

He didn’t respond.

The silence stretched too long, pressing in around me until it felt like I had to say it again just to break it. My throat tightened as I forced the words out, a little louder this time.

“It’s my birthday.”

That was when he looked at me.

The moment his eyes met mine, something shifted. I felt it before he even moved, like the air had changed, pressing down on my chest. My body reacted before my mind caught up, taking a step back without thinking.

“What did you just say?” he asked.

My voice felt smaller this time, like it didn’t belong to me anymore. “It’s my birthday.”

The words came out wrong, like I had already said them too many times.

His hand came out of nowhere. The sound hit first, sharp and loud, echoing in my ears before the pain followed. My head snapped to the side, and I stumbled, barely catching myself before I fell.

“You think that matters?” he snapped.

I tried to answer, but nothing came out. Another hit landed across my back, knocking the air from my lungs as I dropped to my knees. The carpet scraped against my skin as I struggled to push myself back up, but my arms didn’t feel like they were working right.

“Stupid kid,” he muttered.

I knew what was coming before it happened.

I still couldn’t stop it.

His hand grabbed the back of my shirt, dragging me forward before I could get my footing. My fingers scraped against the floor, searching for something to hold onto, but there was nothing there. The space around me felt wrong, like it was stretching just out of reach no matter how hard I tried.

“Get up.”

I couldn’t.

The belt came next. I heard it before I saw it, the sharp crack cutting through the air before it struck across my back. My body jerked forward, a broken sound escaping my throat before I could stop it.

“Stop—” I tried, but the word didn’t make it out.

The next hit landed harder. I curled in on myself, arms coming up too late to block anything. It didn’t matter where I moved or how I tried to protect myself. The blows kept coming, each one blending into the next until everything felt distant and too close at the same time.

It felt like it had already happened.

It felt like it was still happening.

I didn’t know how long it lasted, and part of me felt like I already knew how it would end.

It stopped suddenly.

The silence felt wrong, heavier than before, pressing in on all sides.

“Worthless,” he said.

The word didn’t fade the way it should have. It echoed, repeating in a way that didn’t make sense, overlapping with itself until it stopped sounding like a word at all.

His grip returned, hauling me up just enough to drag me again. My legs didn’t work right, stumbling as he pulled me down the hallway toward the basement door. The space felt longer than it should have been, the distance stretching out with every step.

“No,” I whispered, trying to dig my heels into the floor, but it didn’t slow him down.

The door opened with a creak, and the smell hit me first—damp, stale air that felt too thick to breathe. The steps shifted under my feet as he shoved me forward. I tripped, hitting the wall before I could fall completely, my shoulder burning on impact.

The closet door opened.

“Stay in there.”

I shook my head, the motion small and desperate. “Please… don’t.”

He shoved me inside. The door slammed shut, and the lock clicked with a finality that felt louder than anything else in the house.

Darkness swallowed everything.

I pressed my hands against the door immediately, pushing even though I already knew it wouldn’t open. “Please,” I said again, softer this time. “I won’t say anything. I’ll be quiet.”

There was no answer.

Footsteps moved away, but they faded too quickly, like the sound had been cut off instead of naturally disappearing. Then there was nothing.

I stayed there with my hands against the door, waiting for it to open. Waiting for something to change. Waiting for it to end the way it was supposed to.

It didn’t.

Time didn’t feel right. It stretched and folded in on itself, moments dragging and then disappearing without warning. My back throbbed with every small movement, each breath pulling at something that already hurt too much.

After a while, I slid down against the door, curling in on myself in the tight space. My knees pressed against my chest, my forehead resting against them as I tried to make myself smaller. Quieter. Better. If I stayed still enough, maybe I wouldn’t make it worse.

I listened for anything—voices, footsteps, the television—but nothing came for a long time.

Then, suddenly, a loud crash echoed from somewhere above me.

Laughter followed. Slurred. Uneven.

It didn’t sound right.

It sounded distant and too close at the same time, like it was coming from everywhere instead of just upstairs. The sound didn’t fade the way it should have. It just stopped, cutting off mid-breath.

Like he had forgotten.

Like I wasn’t there.

The silence rushed back in, heavier than before.

I didn’t call out again. I didn’t move. The dark stayed the same, but it felt closer now, pressing in tighter, like it was closing around me instead of just surrounding me. My chest tightened as I tried to breathe, but the air felt wrong—too thick, too thin, like it wasn’t enough no matter how hard I tried.

Something wasn’t right.

I pressed my hands harder against the door, but it didn’t feel solid anymore. It felt distant, like there was something between me and it. Like I wasn’t really touching it at all.

The word came back, louder this time, cutting through everything.

Worthless.

My eyes snapped open.

My eyes snapped open.

For a second, I couldn’t move. The darkness from the dream clung to me, thick and suffocating, like it hadn’t fully let go yet. My chest rose sharply as I dragged in a breath, the air feeling wrong before it slowly settled into something real. My room came into focus above me, the ceiling familiar and still, nothing like the shifting shadows from before. The silence felt different too—not empty, just quiet.

I swallowed hard and brought a hand up to my chest without thinking, my fingers brushing over the three jagged scars that stretched across my skin. I traced them absently, grounding myself in something real as the last pieces of the dream started to slip away. The feeling of the closet, the dark, the echo of that word—it all lingered just long enough to make my stomach twist before it finally loosened its grip.

Worthless.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, then forced myself to sit up. The alarm clock on my nightstand was blaring, the sound cutting through everything else. I reached over and shut it off, the sudden silence making the room feel heavier for a moment before it settled again.

It was the last day of school, and it was my birthday.

I didn’t smile.

My birthdays had never meant anything good, not since I had been placed into the system. Every year had been something to get through, something to survive. This was my sixth birthday in foster care, but it was the first time I had managed to keep it to myself. No one knew. At least, that’s what I had been telling myself.

I pushed the covers back and stood, moving through my room quietly as I grabbed some clothes for the day. If I kept everything normal, if I didn’t draw attention to it, then it would just pass like any other day. That was the plan.

I headed into the upstairs bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the hot water run over me as I stood there longer than I needed to. The heat helped, washing away the tension in my shoulders, but it didn’t completely take the dream with it. It stayed in the back of my mind, quieter now, but still there.

A soft knock broke through the sound of the water.

“Yeah?” I called out.

The door cracked open just enough for Toby to peek his head inside, his hair messy and his eyes still half-closed. “Zach? Can I go pee?”

“Yeah,” I said, shifting slightly under the spray. “Just don’t flush it.”

“Okay,” he mumbled as he shuffled into the bathroom. I heard the toilet lid lift, followed by a quiet yawn as he went. A moment later, he moved to the sink, turning the water on. As he washed his hands, the pressure in the shower dipped briefly before returning to normal. He didn’t say anything else, just dried his hands and shuffled back out, leaving the door slightly open behind him.

I frowned faintly but didn’t comment, finishing up quickly before turning the water off. The quiet felt different now, less heavy, more normal, and that helped more than I expected.

Once I was dressed, I headed downstairs, the smell of breakfast already filling the house. Natalie was at the stove, moving easily around the kitchen as she worked. She glanced up when I stepped in, her expression softening immediately.

“Good morning, Zachary,” she said.

“Morning,” I replied, slipping onto one of the stools at the counter.

“Eggs and toast okay?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled faintly and turned back to the stove just as her phone rang on the counter. She wiped her hands quickly and picked it up, glancing at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

I didn’t pay much attention at first, resting my arms on the counter as I stared down at the surface, letting the normal sounds of the kitchen settle around me.

“Of course, I’ll make sure to tell him, Karen.”

I froze.

My stomach dropped before I even looked up. I didn’t need to hear anything else. I already knew. For a split second, I thought about getting up and leaving, going back upstairs, pretending I hadn’t heard it.

Natalie looked at me, and the expression on her face made it clear that wouldn’t work.

So I stayed.

I lowered my head, focusing on the counter as my hands tightened slightly against it. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but it wasn’t working. The pressure in my chest started to build again, not like the dream, but close enough that it made my eyes sting.

“They’re both perfect angels, Karen. I swear to it,” Natalie said, her tone light, like nothing was wrong. Her hand reached out, brushing gently through my hair as she smiled down at me. “We really wouldn’t have it any other way. You should know that by now.”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, trying to keep it together.

“Greg and I discussed it, but we were waiting for someone else to tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she took a seat beside me. “No, I think I know exactly how to handle this. I’ll let you know how it goes when we talk later.”

She ended the call.

The silence that followed felt too loud.

I still couldn’t look at her. The moment her arms wrapped around me, everything broke. The tears came before I could stop them, quiet at first, then harder as I pressed into her without thinking. She held me tightly, one hand coming up to the back of my head as she pulled me closer.

“I love you so much, Zachary,” she said softly.

“I know,” I managed, my voice shaking. “I’m sorry, Natalie.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” she murmured. “Not for this.”

Her hand moved under my chin, gently lifting my head until I was forced to look at her. She wiped the tears from my cheeks with her thumb, her expression steady, not angry, not upset—just there.

“This is your home,” she said. “We only want you to be happy here.”

I swallowed hard as a piece of the dream flashed through my mind, making me flinch slightly. She noticed immediately and pulled me closer again without hesitation.

“Does anyone else know?” she asked quietly.

“No,” I whispered. “I stopped telling people after I turned eight.”

She pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, holding me there for a moment before speaking again.

“You’re safe now, Zachary.”

The words settled differently than they had before. They didn’t erase anything, didn’t push the past away, but they didn’t feel empty either.

“Even though I’m worthless?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt it. The shift. Natalie went still for just a second, and panic hit me immediately. My chest tightened as I tried to pull back, the instinct to run kicking in before I could stop it.

She didn’t let me go. Instead, she pulled me in tighter, her arms wrapping around me as I felt her shoulders shake slightly. When I realized she was crying, it stopped me completely.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice unsteady but firm. “No. Don’t you ever say that about yourself.”

I shook my head, gripping the fabric of her shirt. “He said it,” I whispered. “He made sure I knew it.”

She didn’t interrupt me. She didn’t push for more.

She just held me.

I stayed there, gripping her shirt as my breathing slowly evened out, the tightness in my chest easing little by little while the quiet of the kitchen settled back around us.

“Is everything okay in here?”

Greg’s voice broke into the quiet, and both Natalie and I turned toward the doorway. He stood there with Toby on his hip, already dressed while Toby clung to him, still half-asleep.

“It is, now,” Natalie said softly.

Greg studied her for a moment before his gaze shifted to me. Something in his expression changed—subtle, but noticeable—before he stepped into the kitchen. He leaned down to kiss Natalie on the cheek, then set Toby on the stool beside me.

“Now?” he asked, his tone light.

I didn’t answer, keeping my eyes down.

Greg didn’t press. He just reached over and rested his hand briefly on the back of my head, pulling me into a quick hug before letting go and moving past us toward the coffee maker.

“Morning, buddy.”

“Morning,” I muttered, my voice still rough.

Toby leaned closer, squinting at my face. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” I said quickly, wiping at my eyes.

“You are,” he insisted.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, softer this time.

Toby didn’t argue, but he kept looking at me for another second before turning back toward the counter. Greg poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter across from us.

“So,” he said casually, “what’s the plan for today? Last day of school. Big moment.”

“Zach only has a half day,” Natalie replied, her tone steady as she moved around the kitchen. “I was hoping you could pick him up on your lunch break.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Greg took a sip of his coffee, then glanced at me with a small grin. “You wanna hang out with me for a couple hours? The guys are still giving me hell about that black eye.”

Despite everything, I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“That’s not how they tell it,” Greg said.

Toby’s head snapped between us. “You gave him a black eye?”

“It was an accident,” I said.

“Sure it was,” Greg added dryly.

Toby looked impressed either way, and Natalie shook her head slightly, though there was a faint smile on her face as she turned back toward the stove. As Greg set his coffee down, she glanced at me briefly, then back at him, making a small, subtle motion with her hand.

Greg frowned slightly, not catching it at first.

Natalie repeated the gesture, just a little clearer.

It clicked.

Greg’s eyebrows lifted as his gaze flicked toward me, then back to her. “Today?” he asked quietly.

Natalie gave the smallest nod.

I kept my eyes on the counter.

“Well,” Greg said after a brief pause, his tone shifting easily back to normal, “that works out pretty well, then.” He pushed himself off the counter. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got something upstairs.”

He left the kitchen without another word.

The second he was gone, Toby turned right back to me. “What’s going on?”

“That’s for Zachary to tell you,” Natalie said as she grabbed a bowl. “Do you want cereal or toast?”

“Cereal,” Toby answered, but he was still watching me. He nudged my arm lightly. “Tell me.”

I let out a slow breath, staring at the counter for a moment before finally giving in. “It’s my birthday.”

Toby lit up instantly. “Really? Happy birthday, Zachary!”

Before I could react, he threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly like it was the best news he’d heard all morning. “I love you!”

The words caught me off guard, but after a second, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back. “Thanks… I love you too.”

Toby grinned, clearly satisfied, and finally let go as Natalie set his cereal in front of him. He immediately dug in, though he kept glancing back at me like he still thought it was the coolest thing ever.

A few minutes later, Greg came back into the kitchen with a small brown-paper-wrapped box in his hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “Had to grab this.” He set it down in front of me. “Here you go, buddy.”

I looked at it, then up at him.

“Happy birthday, Zach,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “This one’s from David, actually.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Open it.”

I carefully peeled the paper away, revealing the cover underneath.

The Legends of Blood

By David Montgomery

I stared at it for a second before looking back up. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Greg said with a small grin.

I opened the front cover—and froze.

There was a handwritten note inside.

I read it slowly, my fingers tightening slightly against the page.

Dear Zachary,

I hope you're enjoying living with Natalie and Greg! Greg does nothing but tell me great things about you, and I hope I get to meet you soon. Keep your foster-dad in line for me, Zachary.

Best wishes, David Montgomery

I didn’t realize I was smiling until Greg reached over and ruffled my hair.

“Told you he’d come through.”

Natalie’s voice cut in a moment later. “We need to get going soon.”

I nodded and set the book down carefully before heading upstairs to grab my backpack. When I came back down, Natalie was standing near the counter with the book open again. She wasn’t looking at the front anymore—her attention was fixed near the inside of the back cover, like something there had caught her eye.

“Greg?” she called.

“Yeah?” he answered from the other room.

“You might want to come look at this.”

Something in her tone made him respond immediately. He walked back into the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel.

“What is it?”

Natalie angled the book slightly toward him, her finger resting lightly near the page. “How is this even possible?”

Greg stepped closer, his expression shifting as he looked where she was pointing. “I don’t know… Why didn’t we notice this before?”

Natalie shook her head slightly. “What do we do?”

Before he could answer, she noticed me standing there. Her expression changed instantly, smoothing over.

“I’ll take the boys to school,” she said calmly. “You call David when you get to work.”

Greg nodded, still focused on the book. “Yeah. I will.”

He took it from her, glancing once more at the inside of the back cover before closing it. “I’ll put this in your room so nothing happens to it,” he said, his tone easy again as he looked at me.

I nodded.

“And don’t forget—you’re coming with me after school.”

“Okay.”

“Happy birthday, buddy.”

“Thanks.”

Natalie grabbed her keys, and a few minutes later we were heading out the door, the morning settling into something that almost felt normal again.

The ride to school felt shorter than usual.

Natalie didn’t linger in the parking lot like she normally did when we got there early. Instead, she pulled up to the curb, shifted the car into park just long enough for me to grab my bag, then reached over and ruffled my hair.

“Have a good day, Zachary,” she said with a small smile.

“You too,” I replied.

There was something different about her, though. Not distant—just… busy. Like her mind was somewhere else. Before I could think too much about it, she gave me a quick kiss on the side of my head and motioned toward the doors.

“Go on. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

I nodded and stepped out of the car, adjusting my backpack as I watched her pull away from the curb almost immediately.

That was new.

Usually, she waited with me for a few minutes if we got there early. Today, she didn’t even hesitate.

I frowned slightly as I turned toward the school, but the thought didn’t stick for long. The parking lot was already filling up, and the sound of students talking carried across the front lawn. It felt different from a normal morning—lighter, louder, like everyone could feel that it was the last day.

I was halfway to the front doors when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

Gavin: Happy Birthday, Zach! Love you, cuz!

I stared at the message for a second, then felt a small smile pull at my lips despite myself. My thumbs hovered over the screen before I typed back a quick reply.

Me: Thanks. Miss you.

I hesitated, then added another line.

Me: See you soon.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and headed inside.

Mrs. Coster was already standing by the door to her classroom like always, greeting everyone as they came in. She smiled when she saw me.

“Good morning, Zachary. Did you remember to bring all of your textbooks?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, lifting my bag slightly.

“Good. Go ahead and take your seat. We’ll be staying in here for most of the day.”

I nodded and made my way to my usual spot by the window, setting my bag on the floor before sitting down. The room filled in slowly around me, voices blending together into a steady background noise that felt strangely comforting.

Deedra came in a few minutes later, already talking before she even reached her desk. Sheldon followed behind her, looking just as tired as usual, while Ava slipped in last with a grin that immediately caught everyone’s attention.

“What are you smiling about?” Sheldon asked as he dropped into his seat.

“My dad is finally letting me throw a party for the Fourth of July,” Ava said, practically bouncing in place. “Like, a real one. He’s been planning it for weeks and didn’t tell me!”

“No way,” Deedra said, turning around in her seat. “Are we invited?”

“Obviously,” Ava replied. “All of you are. It’s going to be huge.”

Deedra immediately started talking about outfits and decorations while Sheldon just shook his head with a small smile. Their voices blended together as they started making plans, and for a moment, I just sat there listening.

It felt normal. Easy.

I turned slightly toward the window, letting my eyes drift outside. The same tree branch stretched across the view, and it only took a few seconds before a bright red cardinal landed on it. It tilted its head slightly, then took off again just as quickly as it had arrived.

I smiled faintly before turning back to the room.

Mrs. Coster started the day not long after that, going over a few final instructions before having us turn in anything we still had. The rest of the morning moved slowly, but not in a bad way. People talked more than usual, teachers didn’t seem to mind as much, and everything felt a little more relaxed.

By the time the final bell rang, the room practically exploded with movement.

Deedra was the first one out of her seat. She turned and pulled me into a quick hug before I could react. “Don’t forget, we’re texting about summer plans later,” she said quickly before rushing toward the door.

“I won’t,” I said, laughing slightly.

Sheldon slung his bag over his shoulder as he stood. “My parents are dragging me on some trip this weekend,” he said. “They won’t tell me where we’re going, though.”

“That’s weird,” I said.

“It’s tradition,” he replied with a shrug. “I’ll text you when I figure it out.”

“Okay.”

He gave me a small nod before heading out after Deedra.

Ava waved on her way past. “Fourth of July,” she reminded us.

“I’ll be there,” I said.

“Good,” she replied before disappearing into the crowd.

The room emptied quickly after that, leaving behind the usual quiet that followed the end of the day. I took my time grabbing my bag, slinging it over my shoulder before heading out into the hallway.

The building felt different now that it was over. Lighter. Like everything had shifted just a little.

I made my way toward the front of the school, spotting Greg’s car already waiting near the curb. He leaned against the side of it, sunglasses on, looking like he had been there for a few minutes already.

When he saw me, he straightened slightly and smiled. “Hey, birthday boy.”

I slowed for just a second before the word really settled in, then walked the rest of the way over. “Hey.”

Greg opened the passenger door for me. “Ready to get out of here?”

I nodded and climbed into the car, setting my bag at my feet as he walked around to the driver’s side. Once he got in, he started the engine and glanced over at me with a small grin.

“So here’s the plan,” he said. “We’re gonna grab some lunch first, then I’m taking you to the mall so you can pick something out for yourself. After that, we’ll head into the office for a bit.”

I blinked, a little thrown off by how casual he made it sound.

“Sound good?” he asked.

I nodded after a second. “Yeah… it does.”

Greg smiled slightly and pulled away from the curb, the school shrinking behind us as we headed out toward whatever he had planned next.