The smell of her pink blouse flooded my nostrils as she tightly embraced me, worry causing her to grab at my shirt. A long exhale left her lungs and she looked at me, breaking the hug.

"You're sure everything is alright..?" She asked, hands on each of my shoulders.

"Yes mama. Everything's fine. I just thought I needed some time with you." I warmly (and certainly convincingly) smiled and she grabbed one of the bags in my hand.

As I entered the house, the smell of glossy snow and the tiny, invisible wisps of candles swarmed me, drawing me into my childhood home. I looked around, a small Christmas tree was set in the corner of the living room, the couch occupied by my mothers 2 year old dog, Fritz. He sprung up, running to me and seemingly fighting the urge to jump up on my knees, knocking me over. Fritz was a poodle maybe? Looked like one anyways. He kept her company while I started my own life.

"Welcome home, sweetie." She introduced and watch me take in all of the old memories.

There, on the wall was where me and a friend, Koerina, dug our names into the wood, "A+K-forever friends." I don't really remember carving it but I for sure do remember the 8 months of grounding I got. I also had to tell Koerinas mother about the incident and was not allowed to hang out with her anymore.

I noticed the string connected to the attic that hung lazily from the ceiling. My first kiss. The dent in the wood of the hallway. Where I broke my leg. The broken smoke alarm. My volleyball phase.

We passed a multitude of unspoken memories until we finally reached the door of my room, which I swung open and entered.

My old indigo bedspread lay out, neatly tucked in, the pillows positioned so invitingly. My records hung against the walls. 'The Monkees, Best Of The Beatles, Peter Paul and Mary, Jerry Lee Lewis....' All my old music. All of the memories. The pictures I had taken as a kid were hung up with tacks, smiling faces happily peering my way, like they were as happy to see me as I was to see them. It reminded me of all the perfect times.

Fritz ran into the room with us, looping in and out of my legs while my mom scolded him.

"Well, you can sleep here while you stay." She mentioned, her blue eyes gleaming towards me, hinting at concern. Late 50's were crinkling at her eyes, making her age wonderfully visible, as if beauty ran backwards for her.

"Mom, I'm okay, I promise," I lied. "I just thought I'd surprise you, that's all."

''That's all' are you kidding me?? What a lame cover up dude'

She smiled and hugged me, her scent once more drifting into my nostrils. After setting my bags down, we settled in the living room, talking about college and the classes I was taking. I explained to her what it was like getting education online instead of at a campus. Ever since what happened in grade school, my mother told me, I never felt the will to go back....

We made tea, caught up, and had some lemon cake, which my mom had as leftovers from a few nights before. She was in the middle of explaining the dread of her new job when a knock rattled the front door. She looked a little curious, as if she wasn't expecting company which, as far as I knew, she wasn't. I stayed on the couch and sipped on tea as she pulled the door open, a confused "Hi." leaving her lips.

"Hey there! I'm Josh, you don't know me." He chuckled. "But I was sent here to help with the computer problems...?" He sounded a bit... new. And eccentrically young. Though I could not see him, he sounded a bit lost.

"Oh, yeah! I called a few days ago," My mother announced, running her hand across her neck. "You can come in."

And he walked in. And I stood up. And we met eyes. And I recognized him immediately.

"Josh... Dun...."

He smirked, and gave me a sense of confusion. "Did he know who I was too? Or is he completely oblivious? Am I completely oblivious?'

This boy was so dangerously familiar, his red hair screaming warning.

"The computers down the hall." My mom stated, following him. They soon left my field of vision and I stood there dumbfounded. I don't remember much from those few days but I do remember the day he dyed his hair bright red. And how he caused an uprise. And the old habits he used to hold...

It held me captivated in place, holding my emotions to an extreme. 'Call Brendon.' I thought. 'Don't call Brendon.' I thought. But what was I really thinking? Only my subconscious knew. So I sat down, collected my thoughts and watched outside. I didn't need to think. I didn't need to explain.

I listened to his voice, spilling out of red lips, pointed teeth piercing his red slithered tongue, eyes cutting like a cat wherever he glanced, breaking skin, spilling blood. I blocked out the old memories. The old trauma. The old thoughts of eighth grade. With dangerous Brendon Urie and dangerous Josh Dun. And even more deadly, the memories I had not become aware of.