My beloved | A reality shifting story

☀ i made it home.

**A/N, this whole chapter's content is scripted to happen on my first day there, so when I do shift and come back to update this story then this chapter technically shouldn't change much, also, for privacy reasons I will not use any of my friend's real names**

I looked around my room, it looked similar to my CR room, but different in a few ways. The dark purple walls were the same, but the things on my walls were different. For one, there were many more pictures of Ghost and more sketches, specifically very detailed sketches. I rushed out of my bed, hurrying to my bathroom. After I came back out, I went back to my room to put on some pajamas.

 I sighed, and unplugged my phone, checking the time. 10:30. That's enough time for my dad to be awake. I thought, starting to absentmindedly plug in my guitar. I warmed up my fingers by doing simple exercises. Eventually I started the beginning melody of Cirice. My fingers started seizing up, and I started playing wrong notes. "Fuck-" I muttered, trying to make my hands cooperate. I stopped playing, hearing something in the background. I heard my father rambling angrily to himself about god knows what now.

 "Playing the devil's music. I'm fucking sick of it, it's time I put an end to it." I heard from the other room, and as I realized that it was his footsteps that fastly approached, my eyes widened. Father burst into my room, opening the door with so much ferocity that it dented the wall. "You!" He pointed harshly. "I'm done with your shit!" He screamed, walking over to my bed. "And I'm done with you living under my roof!" He ripped the photos and sketches off my wall harshly as I stared in horror. Father huffed, and rushed out of my room. Instinctually, I carefully set down my guitar and followed after him. 

As he went into the backyard with fistfuls of the one thing that was keeping me sane, I dropped to my knees and watched helplessly as he lit them on fire. My jaw dropped as I watched the pictures turn black and burn to nothing less than a crisp. 

I didn't even realize that he'd gone back into the house, until I saw my guitar in his thick hands. "No- no-!" I cried out, tears spilling from my eyes. Ruthlessly like an executioner, he smashed my guitar to pieces on the ground. That was not fair. None of this was fair. It's not like I was using his money to buy the pictures or the guitar, I have a job, and I saved up for years to buy that guitar. "You are not my daughter! And you are certainly not my son! You no longer live in my house!" He screamed, storming back into the house and slamming the door. 

I lingered on the ground, sobbing into my hands. I had next to nothing. Without a shelter, what could I do? I still had a job..but shelter is arguably more important than a job. The only thing I owned was my phone, and my name. Oh well. 

Every step felt like I was drudging through tar as I made my way towards my best friend's house. I stared off into the distance as my body—which was now in autopilot—led me to her cozy house that she'd lived in for nine years now. 

Reluctantly, I brought a fist up to knock at her door, sharp enough to wake her if she wasn't already awake, but soft enough to not hurt myself in the process. I stood at her door for ten minutes, not bothering to continue knocking. Eventually, the door unlocked and opened. In the doorway, she stood, trying to rub the tiredness out of her brilliant light green eyes. Her dyed black hair was messy, with a mild case of bedhead. Ann's eyes lit up once she saw me. Quickly, she ushered me into her house as she realized I was crying. "Theo? Oh my gods Theo are you okay?" Ann said hurriedly, rushing into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for some tea. 

I plopped onto her large black leather couch, sighing heavily. Ann came back into the living room shortly, carrying two mugs filled to the brim with tea in her hands. "Tell me everything," She demanded.