The One That Understands Me | A Zanvis FF [COMPLETE]

Chapter XXIV - The Revisit (Pt.3)

~Zane's PoV~

My brothers decided to explore the house a bit, remembering different awkward or funny situation our younger selves put ourselves through. I wandered around too, trying recall any amusing memories.
I went to my room, the last door on the left of a winding corridor on the second floor. It was located in the front of the house, so I had a window that faced the street, so if I ever wanted to watch the dreary action of cars perpetually polluting our already sick Earth, then I could with ease. The boards of my room would creak a lot, resulting in me driving my parents and brothers crazy when I would pace to and fro. There was a closet built into the wall, but the doors would somehow always be broken or lodged into one another, so I was forced to leave one open. I remember me, a tiny child of the age of eight or so, being so afraid of the gaping dark hole in the wall to the point where I didn't want to close my eyes. Eventually, obviously, I got so used to it that not having one door open was weird to me.
Some days I would lay on my bed, blasting music into my ears while I attempted to draw. I was mediocre at best, so I envied and despised Vylad even more when he whipped up a realistic rabbit by just the touch of the pencil. I also couldn't write for the life of me, so whenever I wanted do display my feelings with strings of words on paper, there'd be many spelling mistakes mixed with lines that didn't even make sense. I never showed my work to anyone. It was too horrible to be shown to any other sentient being, but, of course, Garroth's wasn't. He could describe beautiful scenarios and make characters come to life with his words. I had to admit, the pen was his best weapon.
All day, I'd listen to music and decompose it, really allowing myself to be engulfed by it. Music was my safe haven whenever I had a bad day. Sometimes I'd write some notes on lined paper and try to play them on the keyboard I received on Christmas. Yes, I grew up spoiled. The notes would sometimes make simple tunes, but nothing extraordinary. I was never really motivated enough to dance to the songs that got me really pumped, although that has changed as of late. When no ones around, I enjoy flailing my arms and shaking my head to the beat of a song. It resembles dancing it enough to call it that. But then again, dancing like there's no tomorrow has created some wonderfully awkward scenarios between me and the imbeciles I currently live with. And, knowing them, I know they've repeated the stories a good number of times.
I get bored of standing in my room, so I head back downstairs. I don't even bother to look around in my parent's or brother's rooms. I didn't remember doing anything in there, so why would I stop by? Plus, I honestly didn't care.
I walk into the kitchen, unexpectedly seeing my mother in it, busy emptying the cupboards of the things we brought. She hasn't turned around, and I take this as she hasn't heard me yet. So, with careful steps I silently make my way to her, sneaking up behind her. Just as I see her about to turn around, my hands find their way harshly onto her shoulders as I give a low yet loud growl. She yelps, completely startled by my quick actions, and turns around swiftly. There's a flash of fear in her teal eyes, until it's replaced by a small bit if frustration.
"ZuZu! Don't scare your mother like that!" She demands, clutching the bags of hot cocoa close to her chest. She seems scared, although I know it'll pass quickly. I, on the other hand, give a hearty laugh. I don't know why, but surprising people and getting this reaction is always hilarious to me. "Now help me get these in big bag so we can only take one trip back to the car." She tries her best to rudely shove the cocoa bags to me, but she can't do anything remotely rude. Especially to her children. She's one of the few people I can be very comfortable with.
"I'm sorry. You just make it so easy." I continue to chuckle to myself quietly, trying not to set her off even more. She just returns with a quiet hmph and orders me to set the boxes next to the door. I do so, questioning why I don't just put them in her car already.
There is muffled shuffling to my left, so I go investigate after doing what I was told to do. I walk a little, heading towards a room attached to the opening room.
"Hey Zane!" Garroth exclaimed, inviting me into the main living room. I forgot this place was even here. My blonde brother jumped from foot to foot, obviously thrilled to have remembered to visit this room. He enthusiastically sputtered memories he had of this place, many including the stone fireplace and squishy couches. He apparently loved this place.
I did not. Particularly this room.