HTBMHIT || {A creek fanfiction}

✞︎༒︎☠︎︎Chapter 13: Call it fate, call it karma⋆｡°✩

"I just need a quiet place, where I can scream: How I love you."
- Mitski, I want you (Retired from sad, new career in business)

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He lay his head down lightly while I slept with the weight of the world upon my shoulders. Seriously, I don't wanna carry it all together, but the conscience and the nature beneath me cannot stop me from feeling what to feel. Sometimes, I think that maybe he is what he is and it is what it was. - Meaning to say that I don't get the hold of the past and its upcoming consequences anymore. Which, I wish I can.

I woke up in my bed, the others have left now, leaving me all alone as I meet this mournful day. I guess that's what summers are for? One to enjoy and the next year to use it as a mourn of loss from the joy you wished you still had from last year.

I turned to look at the clock, its 12:30PM. How long have I been sleeping? Obnoxious. I scrolled through my phone, there has been a lot of said words in the unsaid. Red dots in every contacts on my phone log yet I'm still looking at no other than the number that has blocked me the moment he knew who I was.

I got up trying to feel determined for a few while, got dressed, and for another shot, I went to his front porch; carrying the same black box he threw away at his garage. The box looks frail now though, and I'm guessing that's because it rained earlier this morning.

I rang the doorbell and heard footsteps in coming. I tried fixing myself to achieve a best look I could possibly present myself with at times like these. As the footsteps felt like its next to intertwine with my presence, I felt a chill spine down to my body.

The door opened and it was someone whom I don't familiarize its gaze with. Did I got the wrong house? That shouldn't be the case, I just picked up the same rotting box from their garage that was supposed to be received and opened by him already. And if so, why is there a blonde boy standing in front of the porch, smiling and asking if who I was?

"Good no-on..uh..." He awkwardly smiles.

"Is Craig here?"

"Oh! Ye-eah..! You must be one of his old friends..Please come in.." He nervously said. What's up with this dude? Why is he twitchy?

I stepped in the living room and there, the vaguely familiar scent of his home wrapped around my senses; got me looking around and thought of how the place changed in a matter of time. The stairs in front of the front door that leads to the second floor and beneath it was the kitchen was already worn out and its walls we're occupied with small paintings and framed photographs that once belonged to the living room.

In the living room, once room filed with framed photographs all over the walls and those conformist floral wallpapers we're now matted and almost scratched out of place, revealing the original plain color of the wall. The tv wasn't sitting on the left corner anymore, Mrs. Tucker finally had the motives to move it to the right for a safer space; it used to be a bother to them for it made their pathway smaller and throbbing to get pass through.

I can't describe furthermore for other huge changes of the room for the boy sitting in front of the tv had drawn so much attention all of sudden, it's like meeting him for the first time again. He changed a lot. Up to his hair, down to every detail of him that are now such a stranger to me that will make you doubt if its still him.

He removed his piercings but left his septum on. His hair is now an overgrown mullet with his natural hair, which used to be shorter and colored than today. His sense of fashion had changed and I feel like the way he speaks and thinks had altered as well.