New perspective (#1)

Chapter 44

Brendon's POV
I stepped inside the far too familiar house. A smell I could never forget filled my lungs and I exhaled loudly, wanting to get rid of it now. Not in a minute, not later, but now.

I clenched my fingers around the straps of my backpack nervously and took off my shoes. I grabbed both of them with one hand and put them where all the other shoes were to my right- mainly my mum's shoes. She basically wasted all her money on heels and the thing is, she never even uses them. Christ, she barely even goes outside.

The rough fabric of the carpet underneath my feet felt like tons of needles.
"Welcome," it says. I huffed disbelievingly and didn't even bother to go tell my mum I was "home." I bet my life on that she was in the kitchen. That's where she used to spend most of her time. And let's be real, I haven't been gone for that long so it probably hasn't changed. So even if I'm hungry as well, I think I'll pass.

We live in a pretty big house. It has two floors and the stairs are right in front of the front door. I ran upstairs, still having my jacket on. The wooden stairs creaked loudly from my heavy steps. It somewhat reminds me of a baby screaming for the first time. It's a rusty, weird noise.

The second I got upstairs I heard the door slam closed downstairs. My dad was back. He had to fix something before he went inside, he said. That was quick.

I sighed once again and my lips formed a thin line as I slowly walked towards the room that belonged to me. None of my siblings were home, apparently. Otherwise they would have all been lined up downstairs to greet me.

I grabbed the cold metal doorknob gently and closed my eyes. I slowly turned it until the door made a dull clicking nose. It was open. I took a step inside.

My posters were still up. My bed was still made. My guitar was still in one piece.

At least they didn't trash the place.

I closed the door behind me and threw the backpack and jacket off my body. I went to my bed in the right top corner and looked out the window right next to it. People were laughing and enjoying themselves on the streets. A couple was holding hands and looking dreamily at each other. A teenage girl seemed to be playing with a younger boy. A dad with his son sitting on his shoulders held hands with his daughter who tried to run away.

And then there was this blonde girl sitting on a bench next to a dead tree, smiling down at her phone. Suddenly she looked to her left and I saw a guy her age approaching her with a huge grin plastered on his face. The girl beamed and threw her arms around his neck.

The sight somehow made me feel sick. I pulled the dark curtains down. That's better.

When you love someone, all the bad things in this world suddenly become unknown.
And when they leave, all of it becomes known once again, but this time there's one more bad thing added to the list.

I layed down on top of my bed with my face buried in my soft pillow. I grabbed the comfy cover and pulled it over myself. I made a muffled whine into the pillow for no reason. I just felt like it. So why not?

My mind wanders to the first time our eyes met, the first time his skin touched mine even if that never should've happened, the playful and riskful fight neither one of us understood, the glances he gave me that he thought I didn't see at that party, the way we didn't move when we crashed into each other.

My mind wanders to his soft yet stern honey eyes, his beautifully shaped and kissable lips and his messy hair. His smile I memorized the first day we met. It wanders to our breaths mixing together, craving to be closer to him, craving to feel all of him. His scent consisting of vanilla, sweat and him.

But now that's all gone and I miss him.

God, I miss him.

"Brendon?" My mum's voice interrupts.

"Yes?" I shout, considering my mum's shouting too, but from the stairs. I know she's gonna come upstairs.

Yep. Three seconds later I hear her footsteps. The stair creaks in that weird baby noise again. She opens my door and stays by the doorway.

"Thank god you're home. I was afraid you'd ran away again." She sighs in relief and puts a hand to her chest, closing her eyes and laughing slightly to herself. No, mum, I just didn't want to tell you I was home.

"Why would I do that?" I grunted and turned around to lay on my back. I let my hands rest on my stomach and I let my eyes adjust to the light, since, well, having your face flat against a pillow doesn't really leave any room for light.

Stupid question. There are more reasons for me to run away than there are reasons for me to stay. And my mum is aware of that, her silence is more than convincing that she is.

"Go." I demanded, wanting to be alone. I don't care if I was being rude. It's morning and I just lost the love of my goddamned life. Even though my mum didn't pick me up and didn't yell at me she still isn't innocent. She didn't do anything to help me and that's enough for me to see her as guilty.

She lingered a few moments longer by my doorway, hesitating to say something but deciding not to and then she's gone.

She left the door open.

"Mum?" I called out angrily.

No reply.

"Maybe she's the one who ran away" I mutter to myself, trying my best to do anything, anything at all to entertain myself, to make myself think of anything but him.

Hang on...

Perhaps running away wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. I could... No, no way I could do that. But maybe... Just maybe.

Maybe I could run away to that shitty boarding school. Maybe I could sneak in and find Ryan. Maybe I could take him with me. Maybe we could run away together. Maybe we could start a new life somewhere else, together.

Would he even be up to that?

My stomach was twisting and turning.

Maybe...

-

*wink wink*

Have a good day y'all!