over the umbrella

inside the clouds

Josh laid on his bed, still in his school uniform. He wasn't very comfortable and his condition was less than ideal, but he was too tired to change or clean himself, and so there he laid on his bed, repeating the scenario in his head, as if watching a movie. when he got inside, Josh's mother almost fainted. He was covered in dirt and mud from the waist down and the grass stains on his blazer and trousers made it look as though he'd dyed his clothes green. without words, he shamefully ran past his mum, nearly pushing her over with his shoulder as he left a trail of muddy footprints leading to his door, which slammed shut with such force that he could've sworn he'd felt the whole house shake. Not as much as him, though. He was shaking like an addict suffering withdrawal and, to an extent, that's exactly what he was. He was addicted to that feeling he got when he was with her.

Get over it he told himself, although he knew it wasn't that easy. It was obviously gonna happen at some point, she was way out of your league he thought in a desperate attempt of self consolation, which ultimately failed. "A-Are you ok in there, Josh?" asked his mum. He stayed silent. "Do you want me to come in?". "No, thank you" replied Josh, inexpressively, although this was the opposite of how he truly felt. He wanted his mum, but he couldn't let her see him like this, so pathetic, so vulnerable. "Pathetic and vulnerable" he chuckled, "that's pretty accurate, isn't it?" He wasn't sure who he was asking, but before he could think too much about it he was interrupted. "Did you say something?" his mum asked. "Oh-uh, no no I didn't say anything!" Josh said, quickly trying to regain his composure. "Oh, ok... well just know I'm here if you need anything, and you can call me if you want to speak; I'll be in the kitchen so I'll be able to hear." "Thanks, mum" he replied, before falling back onto his bed, and into a somber state as he recalled the moments he'd had with her.

She was amazing in every sense of the word, even her name, Azalea. she was on par with models, and she would probably be one if she wanted to, but no, she didn't want to be a model, or anything of the such, she wanted to be mine, even if just for a while, even if just for laughs, she wanted me, and I wanted her Josh laughed, loud enough to hide the sobs, but his throat was getting tight and soon enough, there was no laughter, only a croaky voice that resonated across the room. He laid on his stomach, his cries muffled and tears absorbed by the pillows. It was hard to breath, but it was a nice feeling, a struggle with no consequence to succumbing to, you can just turn your head, or roll over, simple solutions. but what about now? It's not like he could make her stay with him, not if she didn't want to. Why is it so complicated? he thought. What did I do wrong?. Nothing came to mind, no matter how hard he strained his brain, and then it hit him. Nothing, I didn't do anything, did I. She simply got bored, because of course she did, I'm not rich, I can't take her places she'd like, I'm not important, it doesn't make her popular by being with me, I'm only loving and caring, I can only give her my heart, no traction, no jewelry, just my love, and of course that's not enough, it never is, it never will be, you're gonna need more than that if you wanna keep them, won't you?

His tone had become bitter, and yet he wanted to savor it. it felt great acknowledging his feelings when no one else woul-no, when no one else could. there were people willing to listen, but he wasn't willing to speak, to share what he was feeling, and this had stood true throughout all of his life. He knew it wasn't good and knew he should have shared, but he didn't want people to see him in the state he laid in now. "Pathetic" He mumbled "I'm pathetic." He rose from the bed, clenching his fists until they bled, shaking not in pain, but rather resentment for the pitiful sight he'd let himself become, all because of some girl. who cares if she doesn't want me? Josh told himself, although the thought of it still made him teary-eyed. God dammit, why'd she have to be so perfect, and why did she even ask me anyway if she was just gonna leave me in a few months? He rubbed his eyes and was surprised to find tears falling down his cheek. He went to the mirror and jumped back at the sight. He was a mess, both mentally and physically.

When Azalea had asked him to speak with her privately, he was thrilled. Their relationship had been slow after the first few weeks, and he thought that she might have wanted to speak to him about progressing, and she did. She wanted to progress. She wanted to move on, and be with someone more "compatible", more complementing to her nature, not someone who "can't meet my needs". Josh was speechless as he stood there, silent for what must have been a while because Azalea had begun to speak again. "Look, I know it's not easy to hear, but you're just not my type anymore." This time, she was met with tears, racing down an empty face, seemingly vacant from the world, as his eyes focused on the stars too far to see, at the other side of reality, where he wished he could be. Away from the crowd of insecurities that gazed down at him from heights he wished he could fall from. But he couldn't. All he could do was run, and so he did. He ran-through the gatherings of kids, through the gates, across the road and into the forest he went through everyday to get home, and yet now seemed unfamiliar, unknown, much like everything else. Nevertheless, he still ran, over the roots that stuck out on the path and through the puddles formed in the pooling of a depression, much like him.

"That's it." josh exclaimed quietly, "I need some fresh air, and some fresh clothes by the looks of it." He opened his wardrobe and picked out the first clothes he saw. It's not like it matters, nobody's gonna see me anyway, not in the middle of the woods.. He undressed and almost had a heart attack when he saw himself. The mud from his trousers had sunk through onto his legs and he looked like a swamp monster, with red puffy eyes and cuts all over from the branches he ran through, which he didn't even feel at the time. He immediately jumped into the shower and turned it on, full blast. The water was scalding hot, but somewhat soothing. It reminded Josh of the time he went to the beach with Azalea and the sand was too hot to stand on, and when he spilled her coffee all over himself when she asked him to hold it. They were fond memories, making them harder to think about. He stood under the searing water, watching the steam rise and feeling tears fall, taking shallow breaths as the temperature became bearable, whilst the pain in his chest got worse. he didn't bother with soap or shampoo, he only rinsed his legs and cleaned the cuts. when he stepped out of the shower, he looked like a different person compared to his former self, except for the puffy red eyes, that seemed to have only grown. Josh dried himself, put on the fresh clothes and approached his door. He hesitated before grabbing the handle, questioning whether he's ready, but dismissed the thought. He couldn't stay in his room forever, and he needed some time outside anyway. He turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open, trying to make as little sound as he could, to not disturb his mum, although this proved unsuccessful when he heard a voice. "Are you going somewhere, hun?" his mum asked. "yea, I think some fresh air would do me good" he replied. "Ok, well take some food with you, you might get hungry." "Oh ok, I'll grab something from the cupboard and go." Josh went to the kitchen and was hit with a smell so strong it almost blew his hair back. "What's that smell?" He queried "It's chicken and rice, do you want some of that instead?" His mum asked, grinning ear to ear. "yes please." he said, enthusiastically. "I knew you would, well there's a tub in the fridge, you can take that with you" "Thank you" "No worries, just don't be gone for TOO long, ok?" "ok, mum" "Good, now go get some fresh air" "Goodbye mum, see you later"

When he stepped outside, it was as though he'd stepped back into the world he was familiar with. The gentle breeze gave him a soothing chill, and the barking dogs gave a sense of nostalgia, as if he'd matured over the past hour, and comparatively, he had. He felt almost new, he felt he could leave all drama in the past and begin again, with no regrets. He proudly advanced towards the forest, uncaring of what people thought about him, after all, why should he be? They don't even know him, and it's unlikely that he'd ever see them again anyway. Hell, he felt he could dance his way to the forest and back, swinging his shirt in circles above his head without a care in the world. He made it to the forest quicker than he expected, and sauntered through the trees, admiring the life that had grown and lived there for generations, through winters and summers, autumns and springs, through rain and storms and countless disasters, and to still be here, unfazed, standing taller than any building we could hope to construct. The thought of this made him further realize how childish he had acted, as though it was the end of his days, when it was merely the beginning. The storm had come early for him, but this only meant a head-start from his peers. To think he was willing to chop himself down to avoid the rain, unaware it is necessary for growth was a shameful thought, a mindset long forgotten and rightfully banished from his new perspective.