Colors (bxb) [DISCONTINUED]

pedestal

"A pedestal is as much a prison as any small space."

🔵🔴⚫️⚪️🔘

Robin's Point of View

Something in the air is off.

I don't know why I can tell, but I just can. Something is wrong. Whether it directly involves me is questionable, but . . . I don't know. I feel like the earth has tilted on the wrong axis, or maybe a large piece of Antarctica has just cracked off from the rest of the continent. Maybe the bees have all finally died off, or maybe the air pollution on this planet has finally reached the point of no return. Maybe it's all of those scenarios combined - or none of them at all.

I don't know what's specifically wrong, but I do seem to know one thing. Whatever it is, it's going to hurt.

"Robin?" my dad calls out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I break away from my phone to look at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. He stands in the middle of my doorway, frowning a little; he doesn't like coming inside my room because of what he perceives as a bad smell.

I always roll my eyes whenever he says that. I didn't know girls smelled bad to him.

And that one boy. Don't forget about him. Snorting, I mentally shake my head. I wouldn't be able to forget him if I tried - and I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. Time will tell, I suppose.

"Weren't you supposed to be going out tonight?" my dad asks, his voice cautious.

He always sounds cautious whenever he's talking to me. When my mother left, she took his spine along with her. He's a shell of the dad that I used to know, the one who'd pick me up and toss me around and wrestle me to submission. If we were to get into a fight now, I'd be surprised if he didn't crumble after the first punch.

Maybe that's the reason as to why he's always so soft-spoken around me, so lenient and permissive. Maybe he's scared that we'll eventually get into a fight, that I'll leave him just like mom left us.

I can't say that the idea is too unrealistic, considering who I am and who I'm known to be. People don't expect me to stay; people expect me to give them a good time until they find someone - something - better. It's not my fault if I beat them to the chase. It's better to break a heart than to get yours broken.

"Yeah, I still am going out," I say. Sprawled across my bed, I roll over to get a better look at him. "I'm just, uh, still waiting for the details."

"The details?" he repeats, tilting his balding head. "Robin, it's almost seven o'clock . . ."

My expression twitches, just a little. "Yeah, well, things move pretty fast in this generation. Plans can change in an instant. It's different from your black-and-white days, old man."

My dad chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Whatever. That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble one day."

"Maybe." I shrug, forcing a grin. "But no one's gonna fight about it, so I don't see the problem."

My dad laughs again, completely oblivious to the thoughts behind my brown eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm going out to eat. I actually have a date tonight with one of the neigh-"