Broken Home

XI

Connor

Now, not only is my mother gone, but so is my sister. Now I'm truly all alone, it's just my father and I. I don't even want to be in the same house as him anymore. This is all his fault.

He kept fighting with Mum over little things, and when she finally left she was gone. Now, Austin had a anxiety attack and worked herself into a heart attack. This couldn't get any worse, could it?

I miss Mum and Austin. Dad made sure they laid side by side, mother and daughter in their graves. I truly hope they're in heaven.

I will never forget them. Never, ever.

They've been gone for two days now.

Oh, yeah. Then there's Ashton. He's just laying around the house, looking like he's in a trance. He just stares deep into the wall, or one of my paintings, and stays there for almost hours. He's been staying over for almost four days now, he's been nothing but an extra person for me to take care of.

Dad has been getting worse. He fights not only with me, but himself. I don't think he cares Ashton is here anymore, I think he's deep in his thoughts most of the time. I caught him humming songs twice, and he looked extremely embarrassed each time. I couldn't figure out what songs they were, but they must've been close to him.

So deep he forgot to go to work yesterday. He literally skipped the entire day and laid in bed. I am kind of feeling bad for blaming it all on him, but it is his fault. He started all of this.

Dad's at work right now, and Ashton's in another of his weird moments where he stares deep into the wall for an hour. So I'm basically home alone.

I sat on the couch watching spongebob, sitting next to silent Ashton. He was frowning, so whatever he was thinking about must've been bad. I watched as Mr. Krabs made SpongeBob and Patrick paint his mother's house pink with him because they said bad words.

"How old are you?" I heard Ashton ask.

I looked up at him, kind of scared of the fave he was making. He looked confused and afraid of something.

"I'm turning nineteen in two weeks." I told him. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-One." He told me, sitting back and yawning.

"Pilots." I whispered to myself.

"What?" He chuckled.

"Nothing." I looked back up at the T.V.

"You said 'Pilots'. You like Twenty-One Pilots?" He asked me

"What? Who are they?" I asked sarcastically.

"You know who they are. You must be a fan." He chuckled.

"No." I lied.

"It's okay. I like them too."

"Really?" I asked, turning to him in excitement.

"Yeah. But you don't, so it doesn't matter."

"No, no, I do like them. Wait, that's a lie, I love them."

"Hmm, but you said you didn't before."

"I was lying. I love them."

"Prove yourself. Name their albums."

"Twenty-One Pilots, Vessel and Blurryface."

"Name the members."

"Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun."

"Name a song from each album."

"From Twenty-One Pilots: Addict With a Pen. From Vessel: Fake You Out. From Blurryface: Not Today."

"A lyric from Holding On To You."

"'Time is slowing and it's frozen still. And the window sill looks really nice, right?'"

"Last question, what's your favorite song out of all the songs?"

"Ooh. I can't choose. It's between Car Radio, Goner and The Run and Go."

"Alright then, you really do love them."

"Told you."

We kept talking about Twenty-One Pilots and other bands until Dad came home. He looked so tired and worn out. It looked like he was gonna burst out crying too. I left Ashton on the couch and went to comfort him.

Before I could say anything, he slammed his bedroom door in my face. I heard him crying inside.

"Papà? Stai bene?" I asked.

"Lasciami in pace, Connor!" He shouted.

I went back downstairs, a bit broken-hearted. Ashton wasn't there, so I looked around and found him in the guest room we let him stay in. He was sleeping, but I had to make sure to ask him where he was going to live, because he couldn't stay with us any longer.

I decided to let him sleep, and that I'd ask him in the morning over breakfast.