I dreamt of my father sitting with us at the dining table. The coffee stains were now wiped from his pearly teeth. The whiskey and cigarette smoke were both wiped from his body, uncovering the familiar scent of butterscotch candies and wet paint. I dreamt he loved my mother. I dreamt he loved Aaliyah and I, and we reciprocated the feeling.
We were enjoying Sunday breakfast.
I was seventeen, sticking my metal fork into the sticky pancakes on the plate ahead of me.
The ashtray in the center of the table was replaced with a vase of white peonies.
They were on fire.
The non-existent family photographs were singed on the walls around us.
The ground was hot, and I found it incredibly difficult to breathe. The off-white walls were now glowing orange amidst the flames.
The clock, once frozen, had melted due to the heat that suffocated it, and now read: 8:26
We were enjoying Sunday breakfast.
I was seventeen, sticking my metal fork into the sticky pancakes on the plate ahead of me.
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Displacement // Shawn Mendes
FanfictionThroughout life, we experience many things. Many actions, good people, bad people, lovers, friends, places, and most importantly - emotions. But, what happens when the emotions become too much? When we care so much for the world around us that we ca...
