(Above is the chapter in visual novel format^^)
February 20th, 1966.
My name is Thomas.
I woke up but didn't remember falling asleep; my head hurt, throbbing with the beats of my heart. I tried to hold my head, but for some reason couldn't. Slowly blinking, reality gradually came into focus. I wanted to rub the sleep out of my eyes, but again, couldn't.
Finally, the fog in my mind cleared enough for me to start looking around and taking things in.
I was sitting down in a small wooden chair. I moved my right arm to rest my head but then realized it was tied down... why? My other arm was tied to the other side of my chair, both anchored to the sides of the wooden back by thin ropes that were so tight they were cutting into my skin. I gave a small whimper, realizing the pain from those ropes as I came to more and more.
Much looser ropes held my chest, hugging it to the chair as well, but they weren't budging either. I tugged my legs, but they were held down to the legs of the chair. I rocked back and forth, trying to move, but the chair would not move at all.
My heart started racing, and tears started coming out. I was cold but couldn't warm myself. I kicked and pulled at the bonds again, fear and anger starting to mix. I was still waking up, more and more trying to scream.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Where was this? I looked around, but everything was dark and silent me, slowly realizing there was something over my eyes, feeling cloth against my eyelashes. Wherever this was, it smelled terrible, as though I was sitting in a trash dumpster with several jugs of expired milk. The air was thick and damp. Unable to move or understand where this was and unable to feel anything but pain, I was starting to panic.
My arms hurt more and more as the thin ropes, near twine, cut in deep. Moving them only made the cords dig deeper, and that smell was only getting worse. As I finally felt the energy to scream, there was a voice.
"Hello, Joshua," the voice said. The voice was a man's, but one I had never heard before. Hearing it stopped my scream. I had no idea who this was, but felt I needed to listen.
"My name isn't Joshua," I replied. "It's Tom." Was there a mistake? Was someone else supposed to be here? Someone who would understand why?
"I know it's you, Joshua," the voice said. The voice was deep, echoing a small amount, sounding like whoever it was had no doubts about what he was saying. He spoke like my father when correcting me because I said something that wasn't quite right. The tone was reassuring and calm- or at least calm and meant to be reassuring. "Green eyes, the same hair, the same height. You're you in every way. I know who you are."
"My name is Thomas." Really, I liked my name, more so now than other times. It was a tick to be called things like "Tommy," but now- Joshua was a name I was really starting to hate.
"Yes, Joshie, I understand who you really are. You're nine this year, aren't you?"
"My name isn't Josh!" I shouted, "My birthday was last month... yes, I'm nine."
"You tried to leave when you were nine before, remember?"
"What are you talking about?" I tried to move again but couldn't budge. All I managed to do was dig that twine into my arms a little further.
"You're not leaving this time, child."
"Let me go... please, I want to go home." Tears were streaming down my cheeks now. I didn't even remember meaning to cry. It was like there was no choice.
Then, the voice said something that scared me more than anything else. "My child... but you are home. Joshua has come home."
"Who are you?!" I shouted, but he seemed to ignore me.
"On this date, February 20th, nineteen sixty-six, my little boy has finally come home. And here he will stay."
My stomach sank.