Oh Boy ★ Ryden

Chapter 11: Action and Consequence

I'm staying at Brendon's tonight. I came over to help him out with his English paper and then we hung out. It got a bit late but I decided I didn't feel like going home.

We ate dinner like 15 minutes ago and I met Brendon's father. He was a very nice man, kinda quiet but nice. Brendon is definitely more like his mom; they share many of the same facial features and I can tell he got his charisma from her. 

The walls of their house are filled with family photos, all of his siblings, on trips and at college with some already graduated. They've been dedicated and loving enough to care for all their kids for all these years. Brendon is going to be the last to leave the nest for these two. My mom couldn't even last 5 years and my dad checked out around the same time because of it. He loved her but she left him for another man and he couldn't handle it so he turned to drinking. 

It wasn't too bad at first because he had some understanding that I needed to be cared for and he felt guilty that I'd have to live without a mother. Later, when I reached middle school and could start to take care of myself did he really start to lose it. There were more than a few times when I felt like I was in danger near him. He never hit me but he would get worked up over really small things, break stuff, shove me around, my wrist would hurt sometimes after he grabbed me too hard. I spent the entire summer before seventh grade doing small jobs to afford a guitar after spending multiple hours on the carpet of Jons living room right in front of the speakers just listening to his parent's older music, it was very similar to my dad's taste, but here Jon, Spencer and I were more than welcome to blast it as long as we had finished our homework. I mowed lawns, walked dogs, swept the floor of the local barbershop and by early September I was able to buy a used Gibson acoustic from one of the closer pawnshops to my house, the wood was dark and chipped but the guy at the desk was nice enough to give me new steel strings and it was the most beautiful thing I had. About a year later I got into a fight with my dad because I lost track of time and ended up sprinting home in the dark. I kept apologizing but he was just so mad and when he cornered me into my room, he reached out for my Gibson and I tried to stop him but he shoved me into my bookshelf and, in his drunken rampage, smashed my guitar; wood pieces flying across the floor, the lost strings scraping against the shattered head. I remember how quickly he sobered once he finished and looked at me; my head throbbed from the impact and I could feel what could only be blood trickle down from my forehead but I didn't move my eyes from the massacre. His frantic sorry's and Oh God's floated around aimlessly in my head as he held my face in his hands assessing my cut but he quickly retired his efforts to what I was still focused on and I towered over him while he sat on his knees shakily picking up the pieces. 

He never touched me after that and his explosions grew smaller and further apart. It gets rough sometimes but I still give him credit for staying and trying and no matter how much of either he's actually accomplished it's still more than my mom. Even now he understands that senior year is an important year for me, which is why he allowed me to not work two jobs this year to focus more on work and not to mention letting me go to California with Spencer... thanks, dad.

When we were finished I made sure to check my phone to see that my dad knew I was staying at a friend's house. Brendon let me borrow something to sleep in; a pair of plaid printed pajama pants and a random worn t-shirt which he seems to have a lot of. When he handed the shirt to me though it seemed oddly familiar. It's a white Pink Floyd shirt and it has the normal band logo on it like I'd seen it on about a dozen other shirts but this one has a different design with the rainbow flowing out of the prism, like a river, and spilling over an invisible ledge. It looks so worn it must've been retired to nighttime use only. I'd probably seen him wear it at some point on the trip. It smells nice though; it smells like him just like everything else does in his room.