The Inevitable

Chapter 12: The weight of the past

It was one of those days when everything felt heavy, like the world was pressing down on us. Tyler arrived at my place looking withdrawn, his usual bright demeanor dimmed. I noticed the way he stared blankly at his phone, the light illuminating his face in the dim room.

"Hey," I said softly, concerned. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just... thinking."

"About what?" I pressed, inching closer to him on the couch.

"My parents," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I miss them."

I felt a pang in my chest. "Your parents? But... they're—"

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted, his eyes clouded with frustration. "They're on the streets, hooked on drugs. It's not like I can just go see them, but I can't help but miss them sometimes."

I wanted to comfort him, but I felt lost. "Tyler, it's okay to miss them. It doesn't mean you have to go back to that life."

He nodded, but the sorrow in his eyes only deepened. "I wish things were different. I wish I could have a normal family."

I took a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination. "What if we went to see them?"

He looked at me, disbelief etched on his face. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "If you miss them, maybe seeing them will help you find some closure. I'll go with you."

For a moment, he just stared at me, and I wondered if I had made a huge mistake. But then, his expression softened. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," I said, my heart racing at the thought of what we were about to do. "Let's just go and see what happens."

As we made our way through the city, a mixture of hope and dread coursed through me. The streets were familiar to Tyler, but they felt foreign to me. The vibrant city I knew was shrouded in shadows, with the realities of addiction and homelessness painted starkly across the pavement.

We finally arrived at a rundown alleyway where I could see people huddled together, some whispering, others lost in their own worlds. Tyler's hands trembled at his sides, and I could feel the tension radiating off him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked gently, but he just nodded, his jaw set in determination.

"Yeah. I need to see them."

We stepped further into the alley, and it didn't take long to spot them. A man and a woman sat on the ground, their eyes glassy, their bodies thin. They looked so different from the memories Tyler had shared with me. The harsh reality was sobering.

"Mom? Dad?" Tyler called out, his voice shaky.

They looked up, confusion and recognition flashing across their faces. "Tyler?" his mother croaked, her voice barely audible.

"Why are you here?" his father asked, a mixture of surprise and anger in his tone. "You shouldn't be here."

"I came to see you," Tyler replied, his voice stronger now. "I miss you. I wanted to help."

The atmosphere shifted, tension crackling like electricity. "Help? You think you can help us?" his mother laughed bitterly, a sound devoid of joy. "You don't understand what it's like out here."

"I know it's not easy," he said, his voice rising. "But I want to try. I want to bring you back home."

His father's expression darkened. "You need to leave, Tyler. This isn't your life anymore."

I watched as the confrontation escalated, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. I wanted to reach out to Tyler, to support him, but the words felt stuck in my throat. This wasn't the reunion I had envisioned.

After a few tense moments filled with shouting and tears, it became clear that nothing was going to change. Tyler turned away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. I felt my heart ache for him, and I rushed to his side.

"Let's go," I said softly, wrapping my arm around his waist as we walked away from his parents. The further we got, the heavier the silence grew between us.

We barely spoke during the ride back to my house, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Tyler stared out the window, lost in thought, and I felt a mix of sympathy and frustration. I wanted to help him, but it felt like an impossible task.

When we finally arrived at my house, the door swung open to reveal my parents standing there, their faces etched with concern. "Jayda, where have you been?" my mom asked, her voice tight with worry.

"Just out," I replied, trying to keep my tone casual. But as soon as my dad saw Tyler, his expression shifted to one of anger.

"What is he doing here?" my dad demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dad, it's not what you think—" I started, but he cut me off.

"I don't want you hanging out with him. He's trouble, Jayda!"

"Trouble?" Tyler snapped, his frustration spilling over. "I'm trying to do better! You don't even know me!"

I felt the tension escalate, and I stepped between them, desperately trying to diffuse the situation. "Please, just listen—"

But it was too late. My parents exchanged worried glances, and I could see the disapproval etched on their faces. "You need to leave," my dad said firmly, pointing toward the door.

"Dad, no! Tyler is not—"

"Jayda, enough!" my mom interrupted, her voice trembling with anger. "We've heard enough about him. You don't understand the danger he brings into your life."

As Tyler walked away, my heart shattered into pieces. I wanted to run after him, to tell him it would be okay, but I was frozen in place, the gravity of my situation hitting me like a tidal wave. I had tried to help him, but it felt like I had only made everything worse.

Once inside, I could feel the tension crackling in the air. My parents were waiting for me, and I knew I couldn't hide from the confrontation that was coming.

"What were you thinking?" my dad said, his voice low and dangerous. "You can't just bring someone like him into our home."

"Why not?" I shot back, my emotions boiling over. "He's trying to change! He needs support!"

"And you think he'll get that support from you? You don't know what he's been through!" my mom added, her voice rising.

"He's not just a criminal! He's a person!" I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes. "He's my friend, and I care about him!"

"Jayda, we care about you!" my dad retorted, the worry in his voice cutting through my anger. "You don't understand how dangerous this situation is. You're risking your future for someone who isn't worth it."

I felt the weight of their words crush me, and in that moment, I knew our lives were spiraling in opposite directions. "You don't know anything about him!" I cried, my voice breaking. "I'm not going to stop seeing him just because you're scared!"

"Jayda—" my mom started, but I couldn't take it anymore. I turned on my heel and stormed up to my room, slamming the door behind me.

As I collapsed onto my bed, the tears began to flow. I had wanted to help Tyler, to be there for him in a way that no one else had been. But now, I felt more lost than ever, torn between my feelings for him and the fear my parents instilled in me.

I pulled out my phone, wanting to reach out to him, to reassure him that I was still in his corner. But there were no words that could mend what had just happened. All I could do was lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering how things had gone so wrong.