Everyone Deserves The Flame (Adopted By Patrick Stump)

Home Is Such A Lonely Place Without You (Iris's P.O.V)

Home Is Such A Lonely Place By Blink 182

Dad threw open the front door, and a million memories flooded my mind. The first time I ever walked through these doors, and the utter awe I was in. After the first day of school, when I lost it. The time I came home from being with Uncle Pete, and the smoke alarm was going off, because Dad forgot that he making was cookies. The last time I walked through these doors, and the way Dad yelled at me. It all come to mind in a matter of seconds.

"I should go clean my room, it was a mess before." I stated pointed up the stairs before taking off up them. I had to take them slower than usual, because my ribs were still sore. I had my bag in my hand. It only had the ointment. I threw the door open to my room, and my jaw hit the ground. It was spotless. My guitar was in its stand, my bed was made. I opened the bathroom door, and there was no proof of what happened that night.

"Dad, do you have a maid?" I shouted down the stairs.

"Nope." He shouted back. He was clearly in the kitchen from the sound of clinking pots, and pans. Strange. I went to my desk, and found a note.

Figured you'd want a clean bedroom, and bathroom.
-P.W.

Uncle Pete. I should've known. He was "watching" the house while I was in hospital. It made so much sense. If anyone would've cleaned my room, while I was away, it would be him. I went to reach into my back pocket for my phone, and I remember how it was smashed that night. I needed to thank him. But I guess I'll see him in a few hours. It could wait.

I slowly walked downstairs when I heard my Dad on the phone.

"No, Elisa it's not like that. We just got home. I couldn't take Declan when I was the in the hospital waiting for Iris to get better." He sounded tired as he explained through the phone. I stopped on the stairs. This seemed to be a common affair with me. I stop on the stairs, and listen while Dad has a private conversation. I had to stop doing this.

"I'm coming to get Declan tonight like we agreed." He paused, "No, I'm not bringing her. God, why do you hate her so much, she did nothing to you." I held my breath. She hated me. I didn't understand. We haven't even met, other than her throwing the vase at my head. But that didn't count, did it? "She didn't take me away from you, you did that on your own." I watched the front door open, and realized I had started crying. I quickly wiped away my tears. I did my lame attempt to run into Uncle Pete's arms.

"Hey there, Kiddo!" He exclaimed wrapping his arms around me. I tried my best not listen as my Dad's conversation just kept getting more heated with each word. I could tell Uncle Pete heard, because he stiffened. I wanted to hide in Uncle Pete's arms, and stay that way forever. It was always warm, and felt like home in these kind of hugs. I pulled my eyes together as I heard my Dad slam the phone, on the counter, and sigh in frustration. Uncle Pete begun to tighten his grip, but I whimpered, and he remembered. So he went back to normal.

I felt Uncle Pete shake his head, and I knew Dad must've noticed us. I refused to open my eyes. I begun to shake, and I had no idea why I was so scared. I tried to remind myself that I was safe. Nothing could happen here. But despite my efforts, my breathing become laboured. I cried out as I fell into the pits of my own mind.

"Did she pick up?" My voice was small, and scared. I saw my father hunched over the phone. We called her everyday the first week she left, now we called every week for the past month. I would always leave her message telling her how much I missed her, and I needed her. It was so lonely without her around. Home just wasn't home. I watched as my father snapped.

"No! She didn't pick up! She hasn't picked up since she left! Nothing is gonna change that! It's useless!" He screamed at me he threw the phone at the wall beside me. The batteries flew out, and sprawled across the floor. He had never done anything like this before. He told me eventually she would come back. She would listen to our messages, and turn back around. She would miss us, and come back. He used to hold me, and tell me that. Now he was screaming at me, that she was never coming back.