Stream of Colors • Josh Kiszka

5.

Vienna's P.O.V

The walk from Josh's house felt much longer than 20 minutes, clearly being the result of the thoughts that continuously floated into my mind, taking me to a completely different place.

All of the arguments that had permanently ruined my perception of love, clouding everything I had once thought to be true. All of the times I had watched my parents break down in front of me, the only evident cause being a love they had blindly put all of their faith in, just for it to fall through their fingers.

As well as the countless times they had told me they wished they hadn't fallen in love because it turned out to be the worst decision of their lives, only causing endless pain and hatred.

All of their ruthless warnings eventually ended in a whirlwind of fear whenever the topic of love or anything to do with it ever presented itself to me.

I guess they got their point across, because it's still very much evident in my life.

I shook my zoned out mind as my hand met the handle, contemplating whether or not I should go in.

After a questionably long time, I sighed, opening the door that I already assumed would be unlocked, which I was correct.

Almost immediately, I was met with the strong smell of alcohol and loud music coming from the master bedroom, no doubt being my mom trying to cope with whatever my dad had said the night before, plus the fact that she fell asleep surrounded by broken items, still the reason unknown to me.

My head fell, gripping onto my bag tighter, as I made my way through the house, quickly noticing empty liquor bottles scattered all around, being the cause of the overwhelming smell wafting through the home.

She had to be blacked out with the amount of glass bottles piled everywhere.

In that quick moment, I decided to leave her alone, not wanting to engage myself with whatever she was dealing with, especially considering the amount of other things that been weighing on my mind and the amount of alcohol she had to have consumed.

So, with that, I quietly snuck my way up the stairs until I was met with the familiar sight of my messy room, feeling relieved for what felt like the first time today.

I sat my things down, not really paying attention as to where I had put them, my body automatically flopping onto my unmade bed, taking a deep breath through my nose, exhausted from all of the draining events that had seemed everlasting lately.

After some unknown time, I closed my eyes, attempting to straighten out my thoughts.

Did I really want to do a project on love? No. Would Josh have a fit if I didn't agree? Most likely.

So, I weighed my options.

Do the project with Josh and stay distant the entire time..

or I could deny the proposed topic altogether, making Josh upset.

I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having to deal with that version of Josh, so I very reluctantly chose the former, knowing that it would be extremely energy consuming, but deciding that I would just have to deal with it, even if it meant abruptly leaving his house with no explanation when things got to be too much.

I pondered my decision for probably way too long until I remembered Josh had wanted me to text him when I had made it home.

I took a second to regroup myself, pulling the pieces back together, and tying them up, hoping they would hold up just for awhile longer.