Home Is Where The Heart Resides [Permanent Hiatus]

Chapter Four

Wouldn't it be nice to just leave it all behind?

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The morning after the argument was a silent one.

Wilbur had given himself the morning after to recuperate and pull himself back together. Yesterday, after he had left the battlefield of a dining room, he could only assume he immediately passed out from before. Whatever happened after he left downstairs, he couldn't remember. It was all a bit of a messy blur and then nothing. His eyes opened, blinking occasionally as he felt a soreness aching from them. It didn't take much from him to realize that his eyes had previously been what could only be called a fountain of tears.

He couldn't believe that he lashed out like that. Those ugly, monstrous feelings should have stayed deep and buried within Wilbur where he planned to keep them there, forever hopefully. That was never his plan, to yell at Phil, to yell at Tommy, to have Techno watching with his unwavering gaze. It was a mess. He was a mess. No one deserved to see or hear that mess and his heart wept for what his family had to see.

Sheets and blankets shifted as he pushed himself up, feet touching the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. The sun illuminated a picture on the wall, one of himself and Phil. The position of the lighting reminded him that the current time was way later than he thought. He guessed it was the afternoon but couldn't find it in himself to care as his thoughts worked themselves back to the photo.

It was one where they stood beside each other, Phil sightly crouching down to get his arm around the then smaller Wilbur. His smile rivaled the in its brightness, his long-forgotten glasses framing his face accompanied by a beanie placed on his head that matches the frames in their red hue. Phil looked just the same as he did now, just without the few stray grey feathers that Wilbur could occasionally find on the house's floor. The both of them stood on top of a stage of an amphitheater that Phil had found on one of his many adventures. It stood proud and pristine, the marble and stone making up the foundations having been untouched by the hands of man since its creation.

"I thought you'd like it here," Phil smiled as he watched Wilbur's face be encompassed by amazement. He knew his son and he knew that he had something about him that drew his hands and voice to music. It was Wilbur's 14th birthday and the two went out alone. The trip between the two of them was made worth it as Wilbur threw himself into Phil's arms, tearing up while sputtering countless 'thank you dad's.

That was one of the last main and only memories Wilbur could remember having with Phil that wasn't muddled with envy, disappointment, or just nothing at all.

The memory of it all brought a smile to Wilbur's face but just as soon as it came, it was quick to disappear. The memory lingered on a bit but only served to worsen his mood, the thoughts and feelings from yesterday tainting the preciousness of it all.

His door creaked open as he pushed his head out, quickly scouting the hallway to see or hear if anyone was around. There wasn't any screaming or talking from any of the rooms and all of the doors were shut closed. As he crept down the stairs, the smallest of creaks from the wood below causing him to grimace, Wilbur also found that it wasn't just the upstairs floor that was empty, but the downstairs area too. There was no note left for him to find on any counter, no semblance that they tried to comfort him upstairs after their little spat and in a way, Wilbur wasn't surprised. This is just the way things always would be. There'd always be a disconnect between him and the rest of his family and he'd always suffer from that. He would always be left behind while the rest move on, leaving him behind to fester unhappiness and sorrow.

It would always stay that way unless... unless there was a change.

Unless there was a way to free himself from the cold cell walls that were and are this house. A way to for once leave the others behind just as they had done to him.

He had thought about it before, running away. It had been one of many faint thoughts that came to him in moments in distress before disappearing into nothing. Running away required planning. It required time, skills, and patience. Wilbur didn't have a lot of those before and he could still argue that he was lacking in them but now... he actually stood a chance. He could leave, gather his own supplies, find something new in his life, find new people!

The thought of beginning fresh and not having to remain as Wilbur Caddel excited him. It meant not having to slug around the weight and pain that came with the title. He could be whoever he wanted!

Wilbur chuckled to himself in excitement, covering his mouth in case someone managed to stay behind and was around. As much as he wanted to leave right that second, give everyone the feeling of elation or horror (he didn't think too much at the last part) as they saw him gone forever, he needed to pack and prepare. Food, weapons, clothes, and a direction were all a necessary part of the equation. All parts of which he was currently missing.

With a start, Wilbur made a dash to his room as he went up the stairs and to his room before closing the door shut. He rummaged through his closet as he fetched out his most prized clothing items— a few sweaters, pair of boots, and pants, nothing much else. His hands had folded each article of clothing into a dark brown leather backpack, one made for traveling for extended periods of time. He worked like a machine to fold away everything, his own mind trying to further cement and dedicate himself to the option of leaving. It was only a matter of time before Phil threw him out anyway. Especially after that mockery of a fight yesterday. Wilbur was already seventeen soon to turn eighteen within the next few weeks. The stars were aligning a bit too perfectly in his opinion. Like it was destined to happen at any moment. Wilbur would just have to act as a catalyst and speed this up before it normally happens.

At least then he could spare himself the heartbreak of having to see and hear officially say it. That his time in that house and with that family was coming to an end.

With his clothes packed away, Wilbur began to make a mental checklist of others to include. His mind immediately wandered to his prized guitar, a few pictures of the boys and Phil, and a crossbow given to him by Techno ago. He named it Sally funnily enough. As he traced the small wooden carving in the handle, he found it humorous, naming something so violent to something docile and domestic. Anything else left in his room, Wilbur found that he could leave them behind. Nothing else meant to him as much as these did. They'd only slow him down in the end.

By the end of the night, Wilbur found that he was set. His bag and guitar case were neatly packed and tucked away in the bottom of his closet, ready to be picked up and ready to go. The out of sight location of it was perfect. He even had his first place to go on his quest. All that was left to do now was to simply leave. It would be a lie to say that he would never miss the home. It was foolish to think he would never think about it or the brothers or father he was leaving behind but it was destined to happen anyway. Besides, his mind was made up.

No more causing problems for the family.

No more being a disappointment to his siblings.

Nothing could stop him.

Tomorrow is a new day...

A new chapter...

One to run away.