𝐏𝐄$𝐎

02.

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pop a shade, drinking lemonade
looking back at all of this like yo my demons
now won't run away

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CHAPTER TWO,
OMNISCIENT POV.

isaiah sighed as he looked onto the small, unevenly-painted beige house in front of him. most of the paint had begun cracking and developed an ugly discolored look, and the black front gate was now broken, but other than that it looked the exact same as it did when he'd first arrived 5 years ago. except it didn't feel the same. it didn't feel like home anymore.

he'd been in there just one week ago, sitting on the familiar, lumpy black couch, laughing and smiling with his little sister over some dumb children's show she'd forced him to watch. but now, he was void of all feelings of happiness and love when he looked at it. those feelings were replaced with anger, resentment, and most of all, sadness. all because of him.

he shook his head, realizing how weird he must have looked, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, just staring at the house with a blank expression on his face. finally mustering up a little courage, the small boy walked past the gate and up the steps to knock on the door.

there was the sound of the tv playing inside, which isaiah instantly knew was mtv because that's all his mom ever had on when she was home alone, simply for some 'background noise,' she would say. at least now he knew michael, his step-dad, wasn't home.

"coming!" the puerto rican woman shouted from inside the house, hurrying to open the door. not knowing it was her son, of course.

a couple seconds later, the door swung open to reveal isaiah's mother, who was surprised to see the curly-haired boy back at her doorstep so soon.

there was a moment of uncomfortable silence while she examined her son, who stood there with his hands stuffed in his pocket, not exactly knowing what to say. it was almost a sad sight, but something in her didn't allow herself to feel sorry for him. his eyes diverted from her cold, unwelcoming gaze to the floor, but she could still see him chewing on his bottom lip, something he did out of nervousness. he was practically hiding in the large hoodie he had on. she didn't miss the small bags forming under his eyes though; the poor boy looked like he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in days, which was true for the most part.

a couple more seconds passed before isaiah finally looked up and uttered out, "uhm— i... i came to get the rest of my stuff," he cleared his throat and spoke up, remembering how much she hated when he mumbled, "if that's okay."

she sighed and stepped aside to let him in. "that's fine. come in."

isaiah nodded and slowly stepped into the house, without saying another word. he walked into what was supposed to be his room and sighed. everything was just the way he left it, except for the two bags on the floor, full of his clothes.

he couldn't believe his own mother kicked him out to the streets. maybe it'd be more understandable if she'd tried to get him some type of help for his problem, but she didn't. she didn't even try, and that hurt him the most. it was almost as if she was waiting for him to fuck up again so she could use it as an excuse to get rid of him. then again, he knew it wasn't completely her fault. it was michael's too. he's the one who constantly influenced her and tried to control what she did or how she acted, especially when it came to isaiah. so of course she listened to him when he said that her son was a bad influence who shouldn't be around them, or val, until he "got his shit together".