Remorse didn't scream back as the engine of the bus huffed unenthusiastically. The darkness of outside combined with the rain created a numbing illusion of fantasy. As if being read a bedtime story, Connor's eyelids felt heavy. For once, however, he didn't want to sleep and let his imagination of the pale moonlight dissolve his daily life. He needed to see every second of this moment.
But the thoughts inside him were too distracting. It wasn't as if he didn't know where to go because he had obsessive memorised the location like the sun knew it's planets. No, what had tugged so deeply inside of Connor was the weird feeling in his chest. It tingled occasionally but the vibrating hum disappeared every so often. It wasn't painful, but the insecure feeling left the hairs on his arms stand up. The electricity of each buzz distracted him so much he didn't even realise the warm tears streaming down his face like the rain. His body still remained cold in what seemed to be utter shock.
He was scared, terrified even, to which the extent of his stupid idea spread.
Wildfire.
He wiped his face with the sleeve of his yellow coat, leaving his hand suspended for a while. He took in a breath of air, letting his voice quiver, then a breath out.
He was so incredibly dumb. It was too late to go back now and risk the malevolence of his parents' anger. He was closer to his destination than he was to home. However, the distance when he was actually inside that house was even more immeasurable.
Steadily, the bus went along the road. All his emotions felt suddenly distilled as tiredness cloaked his limbs, freezing them instantaneously as if he were to fall asleep any moment. But, he didn't. The only thing that fell was his melancholy tears tugging at his raw cheeks.
The bus came to a halt as he reached his destination. It was raining still, but he didn't seem to mind as he tugged the hood over his head once again. His fingers wept with numbness while his feet had a weird lingering stiffness.
He grunted along the street, avoiding puddles. They reflected the street lights, showing the warm, yellow glow resonating purely. Each drop of water fell with such ease.
Connor's shoes were now soaking. Each step brought small squelching noises; it bugged him. However, the anticipation of his destination clung on so tightly that it didn't matter to him.
Silent roads and isolated walkways, he passed them all with determination until only a door and a flight of stairs remained in his sight.
He cautiously crept up the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. Then, the door. It was rectangular and had a small silver letterbox on it.
He glanced to his phone: 1:41 AM. Was it far too late to knock? The anxiety trembled his fingers as he reached out, giving a quiet knock.
To his dismay, he heard footsteps then the door opened.
Light streamed through the rectangle door, but tiny details like that whizzed past. He held his arms around person who answered the door tightly.
Holly, his sister.
She had changed, obviously. Her hair had been dipped-dyed pink and tied up in a neat low-effort bun and she looked undeniably tired. She also wore thin, silver glasses that rested casually on her face.
"Connor! I thought you'd get here by tomorrow," she spoke in a hushed voice. Connor felt a soft smile let loose on his lips and hugged her even more, not being careful of his obviously wet coat. Holly didn't seem to care though.
A shorter girl appears in the hallway. She was covered in pretty tattoos and had long black hair with a fringe that ended just above her eyebrows. She stops to stare at Connor with her dark brown eyes like chestnuts. They were almost hypnotising, trapping Connor in, her long lashes like prison bars.
"Hey. Little guy." She rushes up to Holly, pulling her away while holding her hand, "She has a girlfriend."
Holly chuckles, kissing the girl on the cheek. She's still holding her hand.
"Angel, this is my brother, Connor." The girl lets her glance fall on the confused boy and back on Holly. "Connor, this is my girlfriend, Angelique!"
Angelique is silent for a second, then she relaxed her shoulders with a breath out.
"I though you told us you had a boyfriend." Connor doesn't take his eyes off Angel. He simply wondered how his undatable sister manage to snag such a cool girlfriend. Holly frowned, gripping tighter onto Angel's hand.
"Well, I didn't think they'd take it too well," she pauses, "what about you leaving home, huh? Did you tell them that?!"
Connor felt a spike of guilt shivering down his spine. He didn't dare speak in case he tripped over his words, looking foolish. Holly's expression subtly shifted to one of malignant anger, spreading to her body language. She had let go of Angelique's hand and had her fists clenched.
Angelique placed held Holly's shoulder, making her jolt. Her anger quickly subsided. "Just sit down for now."
Connor awkwardly agreed, pulling his wet coat off to reveal a similarly coloured knitted jumper. Holly had apologised frequently in the past few seconds, especially to Angelique, but Connor didn't care as much anymore. He was sobered by the bland taste of his choices, telling himself to stop thinking so constantly about it since it was such a drag. Although escaped, Connor found himself to be rather constricted. What Holly or Angel thought about the situation wasn't his priority. What mattered so dearly was himself. Selfishly succumbing to his intolerant desires, his actions were merely on a whim. He had his parents' hard earned money stashed away and somehow didn't feel the regular hit of remorse. Was it that he had no empathy? Perhaps the late night vibe had toggled his brain once again.
Sitting on the sofa and closing his eyes, Connor hoped that he would just get over it by the morning. He wished desperately that he would forget the sinking feeling buried in his chest. Unbeknownst to him, Connor was sad he had left in the first place. He was stressed out of his mind. Immature was the word to describe it but he didn't want to go home, not yet. The curiosity that hid itself in his inner conscience masked itself under blankets of overthinking.
That night, Connor dreamt. With the static noise of his sister's laughter and the TV, Connor had never slept better.
In his dream, he saw clouds like giant marshmallows. They moved about the light blue sky, providing a place to sit as they gently plodded onwards. Above, was the sun. It wasn't blinding like it usually is, but created an appearance of flowers. Connor laid down, letting the pillow fluff coat his ears and neck and embracing him.
Then he fell, sparkles of pink and purple following him like insects. Colours crashed like waves beneath him and slowly faded to black.
An eye staring.
Connor's dream had ended.
