tired yet? ||cashby||

Chapter 1

ALAN'S POV

All will be in ALAN'S POV unless otherwise stated ❤

After staring at the white ceiling for a while, I sighed. A spring from my old mattress was poking the little spot between my spine and shoulder blade. One look at the clock that sat on my bedside table told me that it was 2:45 AM. My whole room was shrouded in shadows, but, ever so lightly and softly, the morning had been fighting to get into my window. Small drops of waning moonlight licked in at the darkness, entertaining my eyes. From just outside my room, I could still hear the TV going. All night, video games, and laughter, and the sound of something I didn't really have: friends.

My brother had all his friends over, and they were in the game room, which resided right outside my bedroom door. They'd been awake all night, so I had been awake, too. Just listening to them. Obviously, they were excited, because it was the first day of summer. Frustratedly, I turned on my side and pulled a pillow over my ear. It was difficult to listen to how much fun they were having. I wanted to have fun, too. Why couldn't I have friends? At around 10, I'd asked Michael of I could hang out with him and his friends. He told me to go away, because I was ruining it. That was all that had needed to be said, I supposed.

"Fuck, yeah, we win!" one of them screamed. Actually, I was very worried that my mother would hear them and come downstairs. But she didn't. After 20 more minutes of listening to them, I just couldn't really do it anymore. Rolling out of bed, I pulled on a pair of jeans and zipped a sweatshirt over my bare chest. I grabbed a flashlight and slipped it into my pocket, then left the room. Michael paused his game and looked over at me; so did all of his friends.
"What're you doing?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Just going for a walk," I answered, and ran up the stairs before he could question why I was going anywhere so early. My bedroom was in the basement, and I liked that very much. Sometimes it smelled like earth, from being buried in the ground so far. I had only one small window, at the very top of my wall, and it only let in a small amount of light when the sun was out. When I got upstairs, I found myself in the kitchen. There was one small light on over the sink, but other than that, the whole floor was dark. And quiet. The hum of the fridge filled that empty space, though, and the sound of those bugs that sing at night.

To my left, a door opened. It was down the little hallway that was off to the side, and it had our laundry room and bathroom. I knew it had to be someone who was using the bathroom, but it still forced this feeling of anxiety in my stomach. The hallway was so dark, and someone was walking towards the kitchen. A little light fell on their form, and I just stood there at the kitchen table, watching.

"Oh, hey Alan," a tired voice said.

Austin. He was one of Michael's friends who must've just been in the bathroom.

"Hi," I said quietly. My feet made soft padding sounds as I walked over to the sink, pouring a glass of water for myself.

"Do you wanna come hang with us?" he asked, standing on the other side of the table. I'd thought he would be gone already, but he wasn't. I felt warm under his gaze, and faced him, thankful for the shadows that swallowed me whole once I'd turned away from the light.

"Michael doesn't want me to," I replied. Austin was a lot taller than me, and had brown eyes that would take you so far away, you'd be unsure of where your body was once he broke eye contact. A tendril of dark brown hair fell to his forehead for a spilt second before he flicked it away, and shrugged.

"Who cares?" he chuckled. Both of our voices were low, trying not to wake the two people who raised me, and were sleeping upstairs. Well, them and my older sister, too. The air felt warm and humid, and it almost felt like our soft voices were going to be drowned out by the heavy summer atmosphere. But they didn't.