Dylan O'Brien (ıṃѧɢıṅєṡ & ƿяєғєяєṅċєṡ)

Part 2 - Locked Away

You waited, and waited, and now what you've been waiting for was happening. As you pulled your hair up into a bun, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You wondered what you'd say to him, what he'd say to you. Would he still remember you? Has his mind gone to someone else, or something else? Did he even remember your name? "You'll thank me for this, someday." Your father whispered as he leaned his shoulder on your doorframe. As he said that, you couldn't help but wonder how you would forgive him from ripping you away from the chance of seeing Dylan again. He was coming home, to you, and you were being pulled away. And for some reason your father didn't even understand. Your mother was downstairs, debating on whether she should wear her hair up or down.

She never really cared about you, if she had maybe your father would be a little more understanding and let you stay for one more day. But things weren't like that, they were different. "No," you said, your turned around to face your father. "That's the thing, daddy. You think I don't understand what love is, or that I'm not old enough to feel it. Well, I had it, until his parents thought is was better he be sent off to god knows where... And I've waited for him." You said, stepping closer, your eyes narrowing toward him.

"So no, I will not thank you for what you're doing, and I never will." You said, your teeth clenching afterward, a tear going down your cheek. Your father's eyes seemed to widen, grow softer, and he reached towards you to hug you. You backed away, and turned around, sitting on your bed. You heard him let out a pained sigh before his footsteps sounded in the hall.

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Dylan rolled his suitcase down the hall, his nerves getting the best of him as he met his parent's eyes. "I'm glad you're home, son." His father said, patting him on the back as he began to walk next to him. Dylan forced a smile and focused on what his mother would greet him with.

"Have you grown up? Did the academy grow you into a man?" She had asked, her eyebrows rose up curiously, Dylan tried hard not to roll his eyes. He nodded, his forced smile rising again on his lips. "That's good, that's good." She mumbled and they all started towards his parent's car.

Dylan hadn't thought about anything except coming home, his mind on the fact of leaving the small town and heading West. Somewhere that wasn't like where he lived now. Back at the academy they had taught him something, how to be independent.

As they arrived home, Dylan opened his door and started towards the house, tonight he would pack and by tomorrow morning he would be out of the house gone. "Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?" His mother asked, her eyes flew down to the suitcase in his hands. As Dylan looked around his unfamiliar house, he scrunched up his nose, he wondered what had happened. The appalling stench that he tried to leave every time he had to stay home was gone, and turned into something that reminded him of the spring. "We've cleaned up since you left, things are better now Dylan. We are all better now, more of a family, and our home... It's fit for a real family, now." She whispered as she drew closer to him. His mother was right, the house had new furniture, better flooring, better everything. It was as if his family had gotten rich in those two years he was gone.

"I can tell," he mumbled, his eyes eyeing everything they could. "Look mom, I'm not staying here. I plan to leave as soon as I can, I hope you're okay with that?" He blurted out, he didn't feel right leaving and not letting her know why. Or to not give her a warning when he will go.

"What?" She said, her hands slowly wrapped around her stomach, as if he'd just hit her. "B-But Dylan you just... You just came back to me?" She said, her voice dramatic.

He didn't feel sorry for her though, she was the one who sent him away. "It was your fault I left, your fault I was gone for two years. And it is your fault I'm leaving now." He spat, his mother's eyes going from soft to cold. And as he looked at her, he rethought his sentence which reminded him of the girl he left behind. Or who he was taken away from. He dropped his suitcase and opened the house door, running outside into the darkness.