The song that changed my heart

Childhood Trauma

His heart pounded as he walked up the steps of the porch. A paper in his hand. One he didn't want his parents to see, but one they would have to. He turned the knob slowly before entering the house. The floor echoed his footsteps upon his entering. It was deadly quiet. A little too quiet for his liking. His steps remained slow as he walked into his bedroom. It didn't have very many things. His parents had made him throw out any childhood toys by the time he was twelve. That's when he noticed a singular note left on his pillow. Handwriting that was all too familiar. Yet it hadn't had the neatness he was accustomed to. The words scribbled on the note caused his heart to drop. He dropped down to look under his bed. His blue binder laid underneath. Wide open, and out of the corner it was usually placed in. A large paper was scribbled placed over it. A match over it. Rody took in a heaping gulp. He couldn't be here anymore. He rushed around his room grabbing his most precious valuables, some clothes, and other necessities. He grabbed the notes and the match he walked back into the living room. He swiped it against the wall and lit it before tossing it onto the logs in the fireplace. The orange and yellow embers igniting the wood he looked at the notes. The paper his college had given him. His heart ached as he threw them into the flames. Watching the white paper turn to black, and ash. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he grabbed his bags and rushed out. Grabbing his bike before peddling off to the only place he felt safe. At the time. Rody was snapped back into reality with the car engine turning off. Vincent's knuckles were practically white on the steering wheel. He moved them back before the two men walked inside. A silence remained between the two. Entering Vincent's apartment felt like a small relief. He turned on the lights and locked the door behind them. The sound of Vincent's footsteps were soft against the floor as the two men walked to the couch. Taking a seat on the cushions Vincent looked back at him. "What was the reason behind all that?" Vincent asked. Rody looked away. There was no hiding from him now. Rody let out a sigh. "My parents have always been strict in a way. Everything that was expected of me had to be met. It just got worse the older I got. I had to get a girlfriend, but no girl was ever enough. I had to have fun, but grades were of importance. College just made everything worse. I had to have a job, but then my grades would slip, and then they would tell me to focus on that. I quit the job and then they complain about why I don't have a job. I wasn't dating Manon at the time. It was a different girl. They didn't like her much either. Then I dropped out. Everything was stressful and I just couldn't handle it. When I went home they weren't there. I was almost thankful, until I saw the note. They didn't say anything, they didn't even bother to be there. Though I honestly wouldn't want them based on the note itself." Rody explained as Vincent pulled out another cigarette. "What did it say?" Vincent asked. Rody bit the inside of his cheek. Saying it felt disgusting. Even if he didn't really apply it to himself it still felt a step too far. "The name of the end of your cigarette." Was all he said. Vincent paused from lighting it looking over at him before eventually lighting the cigarette. "What did you do about it?" Vincent asked. His voice took on a darker tone. It felt threatening in a way. Rody looked down at the floor. "I did nothing. I could've just hid inside the attic, and pretended I never left. I could've trashed the place, but I didn't. I could've done anything, and yet I didn't. I just grabbed some valuables of mine, the necessities, and then I left for my ex's house." Rody said as he put his head in his hands. He knew what would happen now. "All I wanted to do was escape them, and I did that, but now that they know where I work I fear they'll begin to try and reconnect in whatever sick and twisted way they want to." Rody said as he scooted closer to Vincent. Vincent wrapped an arm around Rody's shoulder. Rody leaned in closer, slumping his head on Vincent's shoulder as he felt his hand begin to rub his shoulder. He removed the cigarette and exhaled some smoke. "Your parents are idiots." Vincent said. Rody looked up at him. His face remained unchanged. Just a cold dead stare. "They left you in their house alone, and trusted you to not ruin it. Either they brainwashed you good, or they're idiots." Rody looked away. Vincent wasn't wrong about either statement. To trust their son to not set the house ablaze after handing him a match was an idiot move on their part. Then again the fireplace could've easily done the job depending on how long nobody was there to watch it. Yet at the same time he feared consequences for doing so. What consequences would he have? He wouldn't be under their watch anymore. Sure maybe the law would be a problem, but then again how were they going to catch him? There would be no witness, and barely any evidence if any survived. Yet he was still scared. Scared of a monster that didn't pose a threat. "Yeah, I guess." Rody said as he moved an arm behind Vincent to wrap around his waist. "What would you do?" Rody asked, looking up at Vincent. His face remained cold and dead. Completely void of real emotion. "If I was being kicked out, or if my parents may decide to start harassing me?" Vincent asked. "Being kicked out mostly." Rody muttered. Vincent chuckled as he removed the cigarette from his lips. "I would rampage through the house. Taking every valuable I could sell for money. Locate as many important documents as I could and throw them in the fireplace. I would go into the garage and grab a can of gasoline. I'd grab everything I own before dosing the house and gasoline and burn the place to the ground." Rody looked back up at him. Slightly terrified of the story. It felt a bit too real. A bit too specific. "Why do I feel like you've done that before?" Rody asked, mortified. Vincent just shrugged. "I haven't if that's what you're implying." Vincent placed his cigarette back in his mouth. Rody sighed. Even with that confirmation he still felt like Vincent had thought about doing so. "Please don't do that." Rody muttered. Vincent exhaled another cloud of smoke. "I have no reason to burn down my parents house. Especially considering one of them wouldn't feel the damage." Vincent mumbled the last part. Rody furrowed his brow. "What do you mean by that?" Rody asked. Vincent closed his eyes. Taking in a deep breath before looking back at Rody. "How do you think I knew that those things you have were psychologically related?" Vincent asked. Rody had never thought about it. He just assumed Vincent really cared about him. Maybe it was a sign that he had feelings for him back then. "I didn't think much of it." Rody explained. "My father had them as well. They began shortly after I lost my ability to taste. At first we didn't think much of it. Then they started getting worse. They would happen at work, at home, even when nothing was there to pose a threat they would happen. Then one day the doctors came. He was taken to the asylum. We never saw him after that. The place didn't allow visits, and he was deemed too unstable to be released. Then someone from the asylum came to our door. He wasn't with them. He had died in the asylum." Rody sat up. Vincent's face didn't show any exact emotion, but behind his eyes he could see something more somber. Some sort of guilt dripped into his soul. "I'm sorry about that." Rody said as he reached a hand out. Vincent dosed the cigarette against his apron. Placing it on top of it. He took Rody's hand with a small smile. "Don't be, I barely even knew him." Vincent replied though it came out rather sad. Rody's shoulders slumped. "And what about your mother?" Vincent looked away. Removing his hand from Rody's. "I haven't seen her since after college." Rody could tell Vincent had some regrets about whatever choice he made. It seemed even after all this time he still missed her. Rody's mind harkened back to the photo in his office. The elderly woman who looked similar to him. "Is she..." "No." Vincent replied quickly. He leaned back on the couch. "When I figured out I was gay I couldn't really talk about it. Especially since most of my family expected me to find a wife. She especially pushed me, and well." He sighed. "I couldn't really tell her about it. The easiest thing to do was just to lose contact. It wasn't that hard to do so. She was a very busy woman outside of home life." Vincent explained. Rody gave him a pitiful look. He leaned against Vincent once again. "You shouldn't have to feel that way about it." He said as he leaned on his shoulder. Vincent looked down at him. "I know." Vincent replied as he placed a kiss on Rody's forehead. Rody smiled a bit as the two just remained where they were on the couch. It felt natural to just remain there for a few minutes. Basking in the presence of each other's company. Leaving the conflict that occured to drift away.