mon amour (sequel to bonjour) •joshler•

•*teaser*•

"do you remember anyone? anything at all?"

josh nodded, hating where he was, hating how this all happened, hating his pure existence. he looked around, taking in the purposefully comfortable couch and lavender incense that burned near the wooden framed window.

gross

"what do you remember?"

he breathed slowly, wanting to dig a hole and live in it forever, "just this boy"

the man sighed, knowing all too well who this boy was considering josh mentioned him every week, "why do you think you keep remembering this boy?"

because i fucking love him.

"i don't know" he spoke quietly, messing with his fingertips, "we were just friends, he said it himself"

"and when did he say that?" the man leaned forward, realizing they might be getting somewhere in the blatantly forced conversation.

"when he left."

a long pause emanated through the room, only making josh's anxiousness flourish. he watched as the man scribbled on a notebook, he wanted to cry. the man checked his watch and sighed, times up.

it wasn't long before he was escorted out of the overly cushiony room. his brain only more frantic than it was before. he watched nervously as the man approached his mom, probably talking to her about some serious stuff. he watched as her face suddenly crinkled sadly, like a paper with a previously messed up drawing.

was something wrong with him? did he say something wrong? did he do something wrong?

he watched in disparity while his mom beckoned him to follow her out the door once she was done talking with the man. the saddened teen grabbed his coat and prepared for the angry snowstorm that bustled outside.

he tiredly followed his mother, soon opening the car door and feeling the frost-bitten handle on his fingertips. the boy sighed getting into the car, looking towards his mom confused as to why she didn't start the car yet.

"who am i to you?" she asked.

the boy sighed, shrugging off his coat, "you're my mom"

"then tell me why they have to put you on fucking medication"

"what? but-" he started, the feeling of throwing up drowning his senses.

"they say it will help you"

"i don't need help i'm - i'm normal" he watched as his mom sighed, pulling out of the icy driveway.

she never answered.

the ride home was silent. josh holding back his emotions like he always did with his mom. he's never felt so disgusting about himself in his life.

so what if he was previously diagnosed with stage six out of seven stages of dementia? he didn't need medication nor did he need treatment. he is completely normal. nothing is wrong. he is fine.

the drive was short this time, most likely because josh had been thinking the whole car ride home. before climbing out of the car, he couldn't help but check his phone to see if his beloved had messaged him. it's been a year, surely he would have texted him by now, right?

he didn't.

however as much as he wanted to, he couldn't focus on that. josh had homework, he had projects, he had school shit to do. he lazily opened the car door and entered his house. grumbling as he stumbled up the steps to his room and plopped himself on his bed, immediately laying face up. he blinked away the fogginess that clogged his vision, josh missed him.

he checked his phone again, nothing.

again? nothing.

josh sighed and put his phone next to him, mentally going over the schoolwork he had been assigned over break. he was supposed to meet with his friends today, yet he never did since it reminded josh of him too much. everything reminded him of him.

his phone suddenly flinched with a vibration, signaling a ringtone and an incoming call. he smiled, waiting a couple seconds before picking it up.

speaking of him, he thought. he held back a laugh of happiness, excited to talk to him once more.

his hands shook while picking up his phone beside him. josh wondered how long they would talk on the phone for. would they have those overnight calls where they sleep throughout the call? it had to be daytime where he was, so maybe not. however, all of a sudden his hopes were shattered to bits and pieces as he read the menacingly lit screen in his palm,

incoming call from: debby

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COMING SOON