Empathy [Josh Dun - Twenty One Pilots]

THIRTY FIVE

It took some convincing, but when Josh stopped by Ethan's house the next day, he instantly knew he was on the right track.

The house was obviously badly maintained. You couldn't see a thing through the dirty windows, and the front yard looked like it hadn't seen the blades of a lawnmower in a lifetime. When Josh got out of the car - he had convinced his mom to let him borrow hers -, he realized with surprise that the grass was so high it almost reached his knees. He was also suddenly aware that he couldn't remember the last time he had set foot in Ethan's home. Now that he thought about it, it certainly hadn't happened in years, even way before their friendship had fallen out, and although Ethan had been awful way beyond imagination, Josh knew he hadn't been the best of friends either.

With some kind of time-lapse guilt clouding his vision, Josh took a few steps towards the door, uncut grass tickling his legs through the fabric of his jeans. He stayed there for a second, listening to his own breath, before raising a clammy hand and knocking. It's only when the silhouette of a woman appeared that the boy noticed he hadn't thought this through at all. What was he supposed to say? What was he doing here anyway? Josh was at a loss for words, and the fact that the lady in front of him looked nothing like what he remembered of Ethan's mom didn't help either. But she just stood there, a cigarette hanging from her lips at a weird angle, waiting patiently for him to state the purpose of his visit.

"Um, hi... Mrs. Crawford?" Josh took his chance, hoping with all his might he hadn't got the wrong address.

The lady raised an eyebrow, then silently took a very long drag, eyeing Josh from head to toe before breathing out the smoke to his face. It took a lot of effort for Josh to prevent a strong cough from seizing his whole body. "Don't ever call me that bastard's name again," she said in a husky voice, "it's a pity enough having to live with his progeny."

Josh's mouth dropped open. Now that he had had some time to get acquainted with her appearance, Josh could distinguish the features that had once made the young and beautiful Mrs. Crawford, features that were now hidden behind the face of a woman that had gotten too old too fast. She was a pale copy of her younger self. She was wearing an old pink nightgown that barely reached her bony knees, flecked with stains of coffee, and she could have been almost pleasant to watch if she wasn't as badly maintained as the house she lived in. Her feet were plunged into slippers that were obviously too big for her, and without a word she turned on her heels, scraping them on the ground as she walked towards what was surely the remnants of a living room. Josh followed, wondering what could have brought her to that state. 

"You here for him?" she asked, plopping down on the worn out couch, her hand instantly reaching for the remote control and flicking through the channels. "Nothing to watch on that stupid television anyway," she mumbled. "ETHAN!" she then yelled, making Josh jump in surprise. "Ethan get down here! Josh there for you!"

If Josh had had trouble remembering her, it was clear that Mrs. Crawford hadn't forgotten him. She continued to stare at the television set though, seemingly forgetting about his presence in the house. Josh heard some rumble from upstairs, then heavy footsteps coming from the staircase until Ethan's head popped up in the living room. His frowned eyebrows gave place to a surprised look as he was faced with Josh.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" he asked, and there was suddenly such a vulnerability on his features that the boy seemed much younger than he actually was. He glanced at his mother on the couch with a disgusted expression before his eyes went back to Josh, almost apologizing. "I told everything to the police. There's nothing else I-"

"Oh shut up, you little whiner!" Mrs. Crawford suddenly yelled, her eyes not leaving the television screen. "I'm watching something here, if you wanna talk, get out!"