Out of my Mind // A Brendon Urie Fanfiction

thirty two

The dreaded day has finally come. Lana practically pushed me into a taxi, gave me cash and told the driver where to go. My job is to just sit and watch the city go by in blurs.

I fidget with my hands, picking at my cuticles and adjusting my clothes. Anxiety wraps itself around me once again, but I can't deny that a little part of me is eager.

Eager to see if they've changed as much as Lana said they have. I'm eager to see my old house and the people I spent everyday with. I'm eager, but I'm not excited.

"Hey!" I shake my head a little at the cab drivers yells."We're here." Sure enough, I look to my right and see the house I once lived in. I place a stack of cash in his hand and grit my teeth as I get out. I know that I'm panicking because my hands are numb, but I can barely feel it. I barely feel anything.

It looks completely different. So different, that I begin to wonder if I'm at the wrong place. But I can feel the memories of my old house lingering like a merciless echo. I stop at the doorstep, not able to go further.

This is my last chance to go back. To turn around and pretend this never happened. I can still go back to California. Back to Brendon. Back to my job, my apartment. If I'm going to take that opportunity, I need to do it now.

I pace back and forth on the wooden porch and when I hear the door creak open, I stop dead in my tracks.

"Hello?" My mom's voice sounds from behind me and I pivot on my heel to face her. Her mouth gapes open and she yells behind her, still not breaking her gaze on me. "Todd! Todd, get down here!" My dad comes running down at the sound of my mom distress. He stops once he sees me.

This must be what it feels like to be paralyzed.

They envelop me in their arms but I stay frozen, my arms stiff at my sides. Am I breathing? I can't tell. "I can't believe you're home." Suddenly, the word home doesn't feel right. This isn't my home; not anymore. I don't belong here.

"Honey, come inside." I look around the house as they guide me in, looking for memories but only finding rooms I don't remember. My mom puts her hands on either side of my face. "Oh, you're so beautiful." I don't know this woman standing in front of me. It's hard to believe this woman is my mother. My mom had a hollow face, but this woman does not. I shrug her off of me, stumbling backwards.

"Say something, sweetheart."

"I-I think just need a minute." I rub my temples. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course." I carefully sit down on the couch, trying not to fall over or pass out. They watch me like I'm an object made of glass, bound to break at any moment.

And maybe I am. Because I feel like I'm about to fall apart if I look them in the eyes. I don't know if I'm going to be able to look into the blue eyes that look just like mine. Then it will feel too real.

Because those are the eyes I looked into for so long, loathing and desperate. Looking for affection and approval, but only finding empty eyes that were bloodshot and glassy; not able to focus on anything for longer than 10 seconds.

I think of all the screaming. The fights over money that was spent on a high. When my dad left, she'd start yelling at me. Telling me that it's my fault she was the way she was. Maybe if I wasn't so much of a disappointment that she wouldn't be doing the things she was doing.

And I believed it.

She controlled my life for far too long. I saved up enough money to leave her when I turned 18. But she took that for herself too.

I had no way out of the house for years after that. I didn't have money, and I was constantly covering up for my mom. Because no matter how much she hurt me, I couldn't let her go to jail.

But after a while, it was too much. After years of being broken down, I decided to leave her the same way she left me without a real mother.

"Courtney?" She touches my shoulder and I am quick to stand up, letting it fall back down to her side.

"Please don't." My voice is barely a whisper, ripped apart by the mess I tried to shove behind me.

 My dad grabs her shoulders and pulls her back, whispering in her ear and she walks away. My dad comes towards me with open arms and I fall into them, too tired to try to hold back the dam of tears.

"Shh, it's okay." He strokes my hair as I stain his shirt with mascara.

"I-I'm so sorry, Dad." I've been trying to make myself feel better by telling myself he was part of it. That he spent paychecks on mom's drugs instead of food. That it's their fault I was starving and cold. But deep down, I know what really happened.

He would spend endless days and nights working. I barely ever saw him. And when my mom started to lose it, he started to fade away like a shadow. Too afraid of the the deadly addiction that ruined such a beautiful soul. And I left him, too. Depressed and lonely. Nobody left to help him in his broken state of mind.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Things are better now."

"I shouldn't have left you here alone with her. I was all you had and I skipped out on you."

"You deserved better. We took your life away too soon. When you left, your mother realized how bad she had gotten. She could barely remember what you looked like. She went to therapy and stayed there for a while. She has missed you so much. Give her another chance to prove that she can be a mother." I sniffle, wrapping my arms around myself.

"I can't. It's not that easy, Dad." He places a kiss on my forehead.

"I know. I know it's not." He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I lean my head on him. "Come over for dinner in a couple days. Go get some rest and try to have an open mind." I nod my head and agree.

I don't see my mother again as I head out.

I hail a taxi and on my way to Lana's I roll the window down, the wind tossing my hair as I close my eyes.

I wonder if this is what it's like to feel free.