13 Letters To The Skyline [Brallon]

Chapter 2

I stayed home instead of going out. Tyler said he'd send photos of the different colored paints they were deciding between because we all agreed I should help paint since it didn't really involve the possibility of death. So for once I was being helpful, by staying home, and painting the treehouse - once it was finished. Usually I opted for stayed home, so it wasn't that big a deal I was missing from the shopping group. Things tended to turn out better that way. 

It was the main reason as to why I remained home anyways - somehow, I always knocked over a display, or dropped some vase or crashed into a set up of mirrors. Sometimes things just would never go my way, flat out. 

But Josh's parents' home was nice. The kitchen was huge, the bedrooms were nicely sized, the spare rooms all decently proportioned to what we assigned their functions as. The color scheme was perfect too, if only the comforting blue weren't so dark at night. The sea green theme in the bathroom didn't help either, the surfboard towels always cast odd shadows on the walls that would keep me bedridden until I finally passed out. 

Every other room was amazing though. Josh's bedroom was based around blue too, a lighter more pastel shade than the hue in the main rooms. Tyler had decorated his to be red with black accents everywhere, hanging his own artwork on the walls near tinted red Christmas lights strung across the ceiling in place of a ceiling fan light. Their spaces were so organized and neat, I almost dared to envy them. 

Mine was just a hot mess; there was no other way to classify it. The walls had been painted white, which was a mistake from the very beginning once I'd deemed them as too clean. So I'd taken matters into my own hands and covered them with handprints and huge splotches of neon colors, drawing whatever I felt like at the time. It didn't end terribly, but looking back on it, I could've just bought some stickers or glow in the dark stars. 

The lights dangling around my room had to be plugged in by a bright orange extension cord taped to the wall behind my bed. The out of place dusty orange never failed to contrast the deep blue grey blankets and pillows, the only coordinating feature in my room. My desk was overflowing with anything I'd gotten my hands on, the shelves were lopsided, my dresser was overflowing and refused to shut properly. The rug in the center of the room was stained with paints and watercolors from projects I'd pinned to my own empty sections of the walls. As Tyler said, the lack of correlation was nauseating. 

The entire room truly was a disaster, but I'd made it all on my own for once, so in a way I was proud. I never let anybody in my room, so its horrendous state barely even mattered. 

The garage door shuddering open beneath the carpet sent the whole front of the house into earthquake mode, shaking the frames tacked to the walls and the fan bolted to the ceiling. The rumble of Josh's car only worsened it, the closing door the trembling end. I would've relocated my room if I knew that would happen every time, but the quakes ran throughout the entire home. There was no escape. 

I heard their footsteps tromping up the staircase, accompanied by light and friendly arguments like usual. 

"No, grape Kool-aid is disgusting! Cherry is way better." 

"Cherry is fucking nasty. Grape is superior." 

"Oh yeah," Josh shot back under his breath. They were both right outside my bedroom door. "well, lets ask Brendon then." 

I hated being the tiebreaker between arguments no matter how stupid and pointless they were. "Hey Brendon, summer or winter, hey Brendon, coffee or tea, hey Brendon, hey Brendon, hey Brendon, hey Brendon..." For people that didn't trust me very much, they sure relied on my decisions and opinions a lot.