Chapter 22: A Rough Start

Wednesday:

The morning light seeped through the blinds, illuminating Josh’s room with a soft, golden hue. He groaned as he tried to sit up, every movement sending a fresh wave of soreness through his body. His ribs protested, and his left eye—still swollen and blackened from the night before—felt heavy and useless.

“Great,” he muttered to himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Feels like I got run over by a truck.”

He shuffled slowly toward the door, his muscles stiff and uncooperative. By the time he reached the stairs, every step felt like an uphill battle.

When he finally made it to the kitchen, his mother was already there, standing by the stove.- She turned, her eyes immediately softening with concern when she saw him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Dorothy said, setting down the spatula. “How are you feeling?”

Josh winced as he pulled out a chair and eased himself into it. “Sore. Like, every part of me hurts. And my eye...” He gestured vaguely at his swollen face. “Can barely see out of it.”

Dorothy frowned, her worry deepening. “I figured you’d be feeling rough this morning. That’s why I already called the school and let them know you’ll be staying home today.”

Josh blinked, surprised. “Thanks, Mom. I don’t think I could focus on anything like this.”

She nodded, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. “Eat up. You need to keep your strength up.”

Josh picked up his fork but hesitated when Dorothy sat down across from him, her gaze still fixed on his bruised face.

“You should take a hot shower after breakfast,” she suggested gently. “It’ll help with the stiffness, and the steam might make you feel a little better.”

Josh nodded, grateful for her thoughtfulness. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Mom.”

Dorothy reached over, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re a tough kid, Josh. I’m proud of how you handled everything last night, even if it wasn’t easy.”

Josh gave her a small, lopsided smile. “Thanks. Just glad Danny’s out of the picture.”

Her expression darkened slightly, but she quickly masked it with a reassuring smile. “Me too. And he’s not coming back—I’ll make sure of that.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, the quiet hum of the kitchen providing a soothing backdrop. After finishing his breakfast, Josh pushed his plate aside and stood up carefully, wincing as his ribs protested.

“I’ll go take that shower now,” he said, his voice tight with discomfort.

Dorothy nodded, standing to clear his plate. “Good. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do,” Josh replied, managing a weak smile as he shuffled toward the bathroom.

Josh turned on the shower, letting the water heat up as steam filled the small bathroom. Stripping off his clothes took more effort than he expected, each motion pulling at his bruised ribs and strained muscles.

Stepping under the hot spray, he let out a sigh of relief as the warmth began to ease some of the tension in his body. The water cascaded over his battered form, washing away the aches and soreness bit by bit.

He leaned against the tiled wall, closing his good eye as he let the steam work its magic. For a few precious minutes, the world outside faded away, and all that remained was the soothing rhythm of the water and the promise of healing.

Josh’s thoughts drifted to the events of the past few weeks—the lottery, his growing bond with Leonard, and now, the confrontation with Danny. His mother had finally seen the truth, but it came at a cost.

He opened his eyes, determination hardening in his chest. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he’d face them head-on. This second chance at life wasn’t just about correcting his mistakes; it was about protecting his family and building a better future.

After finishing his shower, Josh stepped out, feeling slightly more human. He dried off carefully, avoiding the tender spots on his body, and dressed in comfortable clothes.

Josh had barely settled back into bed when he heard his mother’s footsteps on the stairs. Dorothy appeared in the doorway, her face a mix of concern and hesitation. She held her purse in one hand, her work jacket draped over the other.

“Josh,” she said softly, stepping into the room. “I have to head to work, but I talked to Mr. Johnson, and he said he’d stop by this afternoon to check on you.”

Josh sat up slightly, wincing as his ribs protested. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll probably just spend the day in bed trying to recover.”

Dorothy crossed the room, sitting on the edge of his bed. She studied his face, her eyes flicking over the bruises and swelling. “Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor? I can call off work if you want me to take you to the hospital.” Her voice was tight, laced with worry.

Josh shook his head gently. “I’ll survive, Mom. It’s just some bruising and soreness. A hospital visit would just waste time and money. I just need a few days to heal.”

She frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Josh, this isn’t something to brush off. You look terrible, sweetheart.”

Josh replied softly, attempting to reassure her. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

Dorothy sighed, clearly torn. “Alright,” she said reluctantly, brushing a hand lightly over his hair. “But if anything feels worse or if you change your mind, you call me immediately. Okay?”

Josh gave her a small smile. “Okay, Mom. I will. Don’t worry too much.”

Dorothy stood, smoothing out her jacket. “Alright then. I’ll be back later this evening. Get some rest, and don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I won’t,” Josh assured her, his voice steady despite the pain.

She paused at the door, casting one last concerned glance his way. “I love you, Josh,” she said quietly.

“I love you too, Mom,” Josh replied, his tone soft but sincere.

Moments later, he heard her footsteps retreat down the stairs. The front door closed with a gentle click, followed by the sound of her car starting and pulling away from the house.

Josh lay back against his pillow, the room quiet except for the faint hum of the heater. Every breath he took sent dull aches radiating through his chest and side, but it was the whirlwind of thoughts that truly weighed on him.

I didn’t plan for things to go this way. The scene from the night before played on an endless loop in his mind: Danny’s enraged face, the wild swing of his fists, and the shocked cries of his family. Josh had anticipated verbal jabs and maybe some thinly veiled threats, but Danny had snapped far quicker and more violently than expected.

He clenched his fists. “He didn’t even hesitate,” Josh muttered to himself. “I knew he was unstable, but I didn’t think he’d go full psycho the second I pushed him.”

Josh’s gaze drifted to the ceiling, his thoughts racing. Did I push too hard? Should I have handled it differently? His plan had been to expose Danny’s true nature, to protect his family from the man’s manipulative control. But the fallout had been more severe than he’d anticipated.

Despite the doubts gnawing at him, Josh couldn’t ignore the outcome. His mother had seen Danny’s true colors, and he was out of their lives. That alone makes this worth it, he thought, trying to focus on the positive.

His mind wandered back to Danny’s vicious words. “If I could have kids, they wouldn’t be worthless like you.” Josh clenched his jaw, his body tense despite the pain. “I hit him where it hurt, and he couldn’t handle it.”

The satisfaction was fleeting, replaced by the weight of what came next. Mom believed me now, but at what cost?

As his thoughts swirled, exhaustion began to creep in. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he realized it, sleep pulled him under.

Josh’s dreams were a chaotic blend of past and present. Scenes from his first life collided with memories of Danny’s attack. The sound of Danny’s mocking voice echoed through his mind, mingling with his mother’s worried tone from earlier.

He stirred in his sleep, his brow furrowing as the memories played out. The sensation of fists connecting, the cold fear in his mother’s eyes, and the crushing weight of responsibility all swirled together in a restless haze.

The room remained quiet, the mid-morning sunlight casting soft shadows on the walls as Josh drifted deeper into an uneasy slumber.

Josh’s dreams twisted into a turbulent mix of guilt, fear, and determination. He found himself standing in his family’s living room, though it was warped and eerie. The walls pulsed faintly, as if alive, and shadows stretched unnaturally long across the floor. The usual warmth of the space was replaced by an oppressive chill that clawed at his skin.

In the center of the room stood a shadowy figure, its form flickering between two shapes: Danny’s towering frame, his face twisted into a cruel sneer, and Josh’s own older self, hardened and worn. The figure loomed larger with each breath Josh took, its presence suffocating.

“You think you’ve saved them?” the figure hissed, its voice a chilling blend of Danny’s venomous taunts and his own self-doubt. “This is just the beginning. You’ll never truly protect them.”

Josh clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he stepped forward. His body felt heavy, as if the air itself was resisting his movements. “I won’t let you hurt them again,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear tightening his chest.

The figure let out a low, mocking laugh. Its eyes—cold, piercing, and inhuman—glowed faintly in the dim light. “You’re too weak,” it sneered. “Too broken. Just like before. What makes you think this time will be any different?”

As the figure spoke, the room around them began to shift. The walls cracked, and pieces of the ceiling crumbled, revealing a dark, endless void beyond. The familiar sounds of his home—the hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the wall clock—faded into an eerie silence, broken only by the figure’s taunts.

Josh’s heart pounded in his chest, but he stood his ground. “I’ve changed,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “This time, I’m ready. This time, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The figure’s form twisted violently, its edges becoming jagged and chaotic. It lunged at Josh, its outstretched hand morphing into sharp, claw-like appendages. Josh braced himself, his muscles tensing as he prepared for the impact.

But just before the figure reached him, a blinding light erupted from above, piercing through the oppressive darkness. The figure let out an unearthly screech, recoiling as the light enveloped the room. The shadows dissolved, and the crumbling walls began to repair themselves.

The light grew brighter, and for a moment, everything was silent. Then, a familiar voice echoed through the void, soft and filled with warmth.

“Josh ... it’s not over. You’re stronger than you think.”

It was Katie’s voice, clear and steady, cutting through the remnants of fear. Her tone carried a quiet strength, an unshakable belief in him that felt like a lifeline in the void. The light pulsed gently, wrapping around him like a protective shield. He felt the weight of his fear and doubt lifting, replaced by a quiet, resolute strength.

When the light finally faded, Josh found himself standing alone in the now-restored living room. The oppressive chill was gone, replaced by a warmth that felt like her presence, a reminder of everything they had shared and everything he was fighting for.

Josh exhaled slowly, his fists unclenching as he took in the calm surroundings. “I won’t let you down,” he whispered to the fading echo of her voice, the resolve in his words unwavering.

A sharp knock pulled Josh from the fog of his dream. He blinked, disoriented, as the echoes of Katie’s voice faded. His heart still beat heavily in his chest, the intensity of the dream lingering in the quiet of the room.

“Josh?” Mr. Johnson’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Your mom asked me to come check on you. If you didn’t answer, she told me to use the key she gave me for emergencies. Are you alright in there?”

Josh rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here, Leonard,” he called, his voice still rough from sleep. “Come on in. I was just taking a nap.”

The door opened slowly, and Mr. Johnson stepped inside, his expression a mix of concern and relief. He was dressed in his usual casual attire—pressed slacks and a button-up shirt, his silver hair neatly combed. His sharp eyes swept over Josh, taking in the bruises and swelling.

“Afternoon, kid,” Leonard said, pulling a chair closer to the bed. “You look better than I expected, but that’s not saying much. You feeling alright? Need me to check you over again?”

Josh shook his head with a small smile. “I’m fine, Leonard. Just sore. Nothing a few days of rest won’t fix.”

Mr. Johnson nodded, though his brow remained furrowed. “You sure? You look like you went ten rounds with a grizzly.”

Josh chuckled softly, wincing as the motion tugged at his ribs. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” Leonard replied with a smirk. “Was that part of the plan? Taking a beating to prove a point?”

Josh leaned back against his pillows, his expression growing serious. “Not exactly,” he admitted. “I knew if I pushed the right button, Danny would lose it. The goal was to get him to snap verbally—start yelling and showing his true colors in front of Mom. That way, she’d see the kind of man he really is.”

Leonard folded his arms, his gaze steady. “And instead, he threw a punch.”

Josh nodded, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. I didn’t think he’d get physical, at least not in front of her. But I knew I could hit him where it hurt most. I told him he was here because he couldn’t have a family of his own. That he was trying to play house. Also I called him a leech.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a sharp jab, kid. And it worked?”

Josh gave a small, grim smile. “Worked like a charm. He lost it. Started swinging, yelling every insult he could think of. Mom saw it all—the violence, the manipulation. She couldn’t deny who he really was after that.”