FORTY-THREE

3.5K 106 61
                                    

You

(sorry this is a really bad internal shower monologue thing lol)

The water finally reached the right temperature after I held my hand under the faucet for god know's how long. For a while, I just stood there and let the water run down my skin, cringing every now and then when it hit little scratches or cuts. At that point, I really felt tired.

Everything tonight happened surprisingly fast, and I'm pretty sure parts of my mind were scattered around from the disastrous prom to the nearby pool.

However, even through the shower running, my ears picked up the sound of the front entrance of the house opening and slamming shut.

Like most late nights, my father was going out once again.

Huh, weird, why don't I feel annoyed or angry or... anything?
Maybe I'm just too tired to care.
... Yea, probably.

I guess that explained his work clothes.

Drops of water trickled down my face as my eyes occasionally fell closed. Like a lot of people, being in the shower naturally helped me keep my mind off things, even if it was just for a while.

My arms ached and felt quite flimsy, so I just briskly washed my hair and body before stepping back out into the steam-filled bathroom.

I slipped into my loose clothes after drying up, quickly and painfully brushed my hair because of the tangles, and hopped into bed. I hooked my phone up to its charger, turned off the light, and waited for my eyes to feel heavy.

That probably wasn't gonna happen any time soon.

Sighing, I tossed and turn until I comfortably landed on my side, facing the window that had the ladder standing outside. I inhaled sharply and turned, now laying on my back. For a while, I had a staring contest with the blank ceiling, and while that was happening sleep decided to not bother with me.

I could go try to relax outside..

I turned my head to view the window and pictured seven-year-old me looking down at the ladder that would be right beneath it.
Voices would be booming downstairs, arguing and constantly wanting the final say. There would be the occasional door slamming symphony.

Colored headphones would be around my neck, the plug connected to an off brand MP3 player. The ladder outside already stood up, so I'd  just crawl out and climb down, the headphones now covering my ears.

And I would just sit there at the side of the house, staring into space, blocking out everything in the world.

This would go on for a couple of years. Some days, I'd feel angry, sad, frustrated, and stressed out. Other days, I would feel nothing at all.

Just numbness.

My dad never took away the ladder. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew I needed it and that window to escape for a little bit. He never questioned it either.

I shot my eyes that I didn't know were closed open. My face was wet, and some tears still spilled from my eyes.

Well shit then.

Wiping my face as I groaned quietly, I turned myself around and had my back to the window.

This time, there wasn't gonna be any yelling.
This time, there won't be doors slamming.
Mom won't come home like an out of control mess.
Dad won't struggle to reason with her.

And yet still I find myself itching to just crawl out the window and carefully climb down the ladder.
I still find myself having the urge to cover my ears with earphones at the sound of booming voices or door slamming.

I still find myself wanting to cover my ears when the house was dead silent.

I groaned and sighed again, face planting into the cold side of my pillow.

The thing is though, it's never silent.
It's never fucking silent.

•••

I slammed my locker shut after pulling the last few items out of it. It wasn't too full or empty or anything, but my backpack didn't feel as heavy. Maybe I just got used to carrying it especially with large amounts of books and other things.

But at the same time, the amount of weight didn't help the fact that I only got a couple hours of sleep that last night. I was half convinced I slept walked to school.

Every poster on the walls were taken down, most likely to be put back up next year. Almost all lockers were open too.

As I made my way down the hall for the last time, dodging hyperactive graduating seniors, my eyes found the door that led to the spot at the side of the school.

I pushed it open and looked around one more time.

Connor sat against the brick wall like usual, stuffing his messenger bag with excess papers, notebooks, and other stuff.

"God, you're so organized." I said sarcastically. He didn't glance up, but the corner of his lips lifted up a little.

"Says you," He shit back as he zipped up his bag. "Don't act like I never saw you rummage through your dresser like a fucking raccoon!"

"...Touché."

When I stepped closer, I noticed a folded up envelope and paper next to him. "I think you forgot something." I pointed out.

Then Connor finally looked up. He turned to me before picking it up. My eyes widened as he said, "Yea, I think I'm just gonna hold this."

I knew my smile couldn't get any wider.

~Weird~   Connor Murphy x Reader (DEH)[COMPLETE]Where stories live. Discover now