"A Sanctuary Safe and Strong"(Marianas Trench)

Chapter 21

Josh pulled into his assigned parking spot and shut off the car. Staring at his front door, he sat nervously chewing on his thumb. He wanted to go inside. He really did, but it was too soon. There were things waiting for him in there that he didn't want to face. Not yet. Maybe not ever, he foolishly thought. But he'd have to. He had no choice. He'd already played it cool in front of Matt, so he had to at least try. The problem was that now, at this exact moment, it was a repeat of the day everything in his life had turned upside down. It was the same time of day that Matt had dropped him off when the incident happened, although the rain and clouds were currently blocking the sun this afternoon. Everything else felt like he was walking into the same psychological mindfuck he'd been through a dozen times in his dreams.  

"Just fuckin' do it." Josh took a deep breath and gritted his teeth while he worked up the nerve to take that first step out of the car and onto the pavement. 

After about ten minutes, the singer found himself walking on autopilot up to his front door with the travel bag strap slung over his left shoulder, the bag itself bouncing against his hip with every step. He saw himself put the key into the lock and heard the click when it opened. It felt like an out of body experience, rather than real life. The clean smell of harsh disinfecting chemicals hit his nose as soon as he pulled the door open and pocketed his keys. Yet another reminder that things just weren't the same. Things would never be the same, he realized, dropping the bag onto the kitchen table and rummaging around inside to pull out the medications. 

He made his way over to the sink and stuck his head under the faucet, filling his mouth with cold water. Josh couldn't face another bottle of soda and he knew that was all he had in the refrigerator. It seemed easier to stomach that around Matt, but he didn't think he'd be able to taste that shit again without someone else there to hold his hand, if ever again. Maybe he'd have to give it up completely. The blond wrinkled his nose at the thought before standing and tipping his head back. He dropped a handful of pills from the various bottles into his open mouth and swallowed, hoping that the pain medication kicked in quickly. Josh was feeling jittery again, just being alone in the house, but at least he wasn't terrified. The pain medication, he hoped, would also be enough to relax him a little and at least take the edge off. 

Turning to look through the open kitchen and out into the living room, the singer realized that he just couldn't face the rest of the house yet. Logically, he knew that there was probably nothing out of the ordinary out there, that lightning didn't usually strike the same spot twice. But...sometimes it did. The rest of the house would have to wait. The kitchen was where Josh had been safe the day he was almost killed, and he most likely wouldn't have gotten hurt if he'd just stayed there rather than being an idiot and trying to confront the person who'd invaded his home. Instead of trying to force himself to take the ten or twelve steps that would have gotten him into the next room, he stopped where he stood, deciding once and for all that his bravery was next to nil. 

Josh sunk down to the floor with his back against the cabinet to the left of the sink and crossed his legs in front of him, remaining right where he was while he listened to the sounds around him. The same ticking of the same goddamn clock that had gotten to him the day before sounded loudly in his head as he laced and unlaced his fingers on his lap. Josh closed his eyes and tried to pick out other various noises, like he would do if he was scrutinizing a song he was producing. In that particular situation, he would easily be able to single out each instrument. His would be able to hear the bass guitar, the piano, lead guitar, rhythm guitar, each different drum sound, all vocal parts - background or lead - and any other subtle or in-your-face instrument that was added. But, this wasn't music. This wasn't a song. This was his life, and these noises, or even the lack thereof around him were scary as shit. He nervously shoved his hand through his bangs and pulled them down in front of his still-closed eyes.