Troye's pov
Shoving my key into the front door lock, I hastily unlock it, swing the door open, rush inside and slam it behind me. I fall back against the door, sliding down to the floor and bringing my knees to my chest. My hands subconsciously find their way to my hair and pull on it, trying to help me steady myself.
I just feel too... unreal.
Like I'm just stuck in the middle of a boulevard, watching the many cars and people passing by. It's like I don't exist, or they're moving too fast to see me. I feel like I'm stuck between everyone's way and they don't notice. They just shrug and find another way around. I wish I could find a way around them.
I let out a wrecked sob, my jeans dampening with my tears.
Why is it so hard to leave my house?
Why is it so hard to leave my room?
How did I end up so... different...?
"Troye? Sweetness, are you here-" I hear dad begin, making me snap my head up.
My face crumples in sadness, dropping my head back down on my knees.
"Honey, what's wrong?" He asks, quickly running up to my side and sitting down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shaking body.
I cry out another sob, not able to form a coherent sentence in this state. He places his hands on mine tangled in my hair, massaging my tight grip from it. Prying my fingers away, he holds them and lets me fall into his side, the tears seeming to be a never ending flow.
"You're alright, you'll be alright." Dad whispers, rubbing my palms.
"B-b-but sh-he won't-t be..." I stumble my words out.
He tightens his grip around my body.
"What did you say, Tok?" He questions, it being evident that he doesn't understand my cried out words as much as I'd hope.
"M-mom, she won't be alright." I mutter, looking down at the floor.
"Troye..."
I sniffle, nodding.
"I-I know, I need to move past-t this already and let her go." I whisper, wiping at my face, sweeping the tears away.
Dad pulls my hands back down away from my face.
"No you don't, sweetheart. I don't know how you got that in your head but it's wrong. Take your time." He pauses, "Hey, what do you say we go visit Mommy?"
I jump in surprise, shocked he'd want to go visit. He hates visiting. I mean, I would too if I were watching the love of my life die slowly before me.
"Can we?" I ask, leaning back and turning to him, my eyes gleaming with hope.
He nods, "We sure can. C'mon, let's go before visiting hours are up."
He pats my leg, persuading me to get up. I do as told, slowly standing up, my body achy from my little breakdown. I straighten my back out and help dad up, the two of us making our way out of the house and going to see our love.
