four walls (a twenty one pilots fanfiction)

føur

I awaken from the rays of sunlight peering through the gaps in the curtains. The light fell on my face warmly, bringing heat in this harsh winter which shall soon proceed. My heavy, tired body heaved itself into sitting position, glancing over at the empty space where Josh had laid in. Never had I been so relieved it was morning. I reflect on last night, both in disbelief and contempt. Nothing terrified me more than the thought of someone being after me. Though, simultaneously, nothing comforted me more knowing Josh was protecting me. So I lay there, trying to make sense of all this emotional confusion; Like when you mix all the colours together you get a distasteful mushy brown- that's how I felt. I didn't feel nothing, I just felt too much. 

Rubbing my eyes, I breathe in, smelling the warm aroma of pancakes from downstairs. Soon enough, I hear Josh walk up each step slowly and carefully, obviously on his way to give me one of his infamous breakfasts in beds he use to make me all those years ago.

It took a second for reality to kick in; remembering how mornings once served sadness on silver platter with a cup of bitterness to wash it all down. Now, though, it was going to be different. Now, mornings meant the most delicious homemade pancakes, accompanied by the smoothest cup of tea. All served on a tray by the kindest man I have met in my entire life. He places the tray on my lap with a beaming eager smile, awaiting my sign of admiration.
"It looks delicious, thank you!" I say looking at his pleased, modest eyes.
"You always liked my pancakes, so I made them for breakfast." He briefly grins before speaking again.
"Listen," he starts rather abruptly, "I've gotta go grab a few things and run some errands before we leave tonight. I won't be gone long, but is it alright if you stay here while I go and do them?" He asks. I nod, taking a mouthful of pancakes.
"Cool. I've left a note of things you might need whilst I'm gone on the fridge, including my phone number."
"Okay, thanks." I smile, swallowing my food.
"I uh, better get going, uh See ya then." He waves awkwardly shuffling towards the door.
"Goodbye." I wave back
Josh paces out of the room, jarring his head harshly into the doorframe as he fumbled to close the door behind him.
"Oops." He scoffs, evidently embarrassed. I giggle at his clumsiness, trying my best not to choke on my food in the process. He blushes and rubs his forehead before walking out.
I listen carefully as he treads his way downstairs and jingles his keys in his pocket, barely mumbling
"Stupid doorframe..." Until finally, the front door shuts and the house falls silent.

Over the years, I'd grown a likeness to silence, and I think that equally, it had done so to me. It felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I could breathe. That weight though, had only shifted to my mind, where a thousand endless thoughts resided. The problems seemed to stack on top of each other now, in a crude, unorganised fashion. Usually, in these scenarios, I provided myself with a series of distractions from my problems. And yes, evidently, it wasn't the best way to come about them, but it worked.

After finishing off my breakfast, I shifted out of bed and carried the tray downstairs. On my way, I examine the photos he had on his walls. Most of them were of his family, especially his mom. He'd always been very close to his family. They all seemed to get along famously, whereas I, was an only child. So I feel as though I'd missed out on a lot of things.
And here I am now; an orphan, reduced to nothing, still poisoned by the ill mistakes my parents made ten years ago.

I have every right to feel jealous of what Josh has, but I know he has had to fight to get them, and even more so when he suffered with anxiety. Growing up, Josh was a very reserved, shy child. He found it hard to interpret emotions verbally, so instead he expressed them through small kindnesses, like gifts or random bouquets of flowers (I got a lot of those.) And I enjoyed receiving the different forms of endearment, and only now I realise how much I miss them.

It was almost uplifting though, to see Josh happy. Because him and I had fought for happiness for years, so at least one of us had attained it. Maybe one day, the fight will end for me. Despite knowing there was a long road ahead, I looked forward to the day I could look back on the past 10 years and smile; knowing that I finally made it.