LUKE

In my eyes, everything is an art. From the swirling blue river back in Greenwood to the industrialized buildings towering in the city, marked with grease and struggles that most people classify as ugly. I don't see the train tracks as just a mode of transportation-I see the rigid lines with rusted edges, sparks flying from the metal rails as the train's wheel scrapes against the steel. I can imagine the sparkling sky, adorned with puffs of white clouds, painted on a canvas to hang in a highly priced museum for onlookers to admire. In my eyes, the blandest and the most hideous of things can categorize as art. Death is an art as well, in a completely non-dismal way. With so many ways to achieve it, so many different backstories, so many ways to fall, how can it not be an art?

The drive back to the city was awkward, to say the least. I had leaned against the window and stared out at the blurs of green trees for the long hours spent in the car, while my family was left to suffocate in the thick tension. None of us spoke, letting our wordless thoughts fill the silent air.

Now, I lift my head a little to stare out at the city flourishing around me, gazing at the tall buildings and busy people and flashing stoplights all combining into one big mess that I now hate. I hate it all, I hate every bit of it. I hate how there is not one tree in sight, not one bird flying around my head and not one piece of soft grass to step on under my shoe. My mum peers back at me, wanting to see a relieved expression of my face now that I am home, but this isn't home. This isn't a home at all to me, not anymore. I remain like a ghastly statue, grey skin ornamented with stone fingers that are too frail to move.

The car rolls in front of the small apartment building in the middle of the busy streets, people strolling in front of the tall double doors. Liz shuts off the engine and clears her throat, opening her car door and getting out to retrieve my suitcase from the back of the car.

Jack and Ben follow her moves, but I stay still in the backseat, my head too heavy to lift from the cold window. My feet are tombstones, curled under me as I cower in the safety of the car while my family urges me with disappointed voices to get out.

I blink away the hazy feeling from my eyes and wrap my fingers around the neck of my guitar, using my other hand to pick up the cajon drum. They're the only belongings that I really care about now that everything else has been ripped away from my grasp.

My family watches me with perplexed eyes as I drag myself with slow movements to the front of the apartment building, pulling open the handle with fragile fingers. I can feel them coming up behind me, prepared to catch me in case I fall over from the weight of everything on my shoulders, but I just readjust my grip on the instruments and push through the doors, heading straight towards the elevator in the corner of the lobby.

Thankfully, the elevator is empty when I step onto the carpeted flooring, and I press my back against the wall, setting down the guitar and the drum temporarily as the doors close. There is no shitty elevator music to help clear up the tumbling emotions in my brain, and so I stand and suffocate in the silence. The inner workings on my mind weave together in the threadwork of a quilt that can't seem to asphyxiate my toxic thoughts, and I clench my jaw, struggling to remain sane in the all too quiet confinement of the elevator.

I'm relieved when the doors slide open with a creak, revealing the familiar hallway that leads to our small apartment. I stand there for a moment, staring out at the rows of doors before picking up my things and moving out from the claustrophobic area, moving down the silent hallway before approaching our apartment door. I pick out the key from my pocket, where my mother had slid it into, and push the jagged key into the lock before twisting it, pushing the door forward with stiff arms.

The room looks virtually untouched from the months ago that we left in a frenzy, suitcases being dragged out the door in preparation to leave the city behind. I stare at the clothes strewn across the floor, at the large windows looking down at the bustling town below. I clear my throat before stepping inside, shutting the door and moving to my room. It is a small, closed off space decorated with band posters and empty picture frames, too many clothes on the floor to find out what color the carpet is.

A few moments later, I hear my mother had my brothers shuffling into the room. Their loud voices break the silence I was beginning to pulse under as I sit down on my bed, feeling the rough fabric under my sensitive skin.

"Mum, we don't have any food!" Jack cries from the kitchen, where I can hear him opening the fridge door.

"I know, I know." My mum sighs, and then she sticks her head through the doorway of the room. For a moment, she eyes me, at my crumpled form on my bed, but then she speaks. "I'm going to the grocery store. Are you okay staying here with your brothers?"

I give a half-hearted nod that I hope surpasses as an answer, and apparently it does because my mother slips out of the room, grabbing her keys and disappearing out the front door. I draw in quiet breaths as I struggle to calm my fast-beating heart.

I slide my fingers into my air before standing up, walking hurriedly out the doorway of my bedroom and looking into the main room, seeing Jack and Ben pressed up close together on the couch, their eyes trained on the television. I toy with my lip ring, watching them with careful eyes as they don't notice my presence. Their relationship has always been better than mine.

I lace up my converse before heading towards the door, doubtful that I can make it through the day cooped up in my room without dragging a blade across my throat. I slide out into the hallway of the apartment complex, walking quickly over to the stairs instead of waiting on the elevator. I grip the railings and listen to my feet stomping against the concrete steps until I get down to the main floor.

My eyes trail up to the bright exit sign, throbbing red like the hot blood in my veins. I step towards it, pushing at the thick white door until it creaks open, revealing the chaotic world outside that is the city. People rush back in forth in front of my still form, shopping bags twirling around their fingers and red lipstick smudged on their lips. I slowly step out form the safety of the apartment complex and stand at the side of the path. I resist grimacing. How did I once love the busy life in the city?

As I turn my body and am yanked into the pull of the crowd, I can't help but think about how much Michael would despise it here. He would hate the ignorance of the people, the blinding lights and the blaring cars. His skin would pale into a dying white until he disappears among the rest of us.

I recognize my school bus stop around the corner, the rusty sign staring at me as I pass it. The sign only reminds me of school, and school reminds me of hell. My mind pulses in the realization that I might have to go back to school, but I can't image it now. Not after everything that has happened. Why should I sit in a desk and analyze the function of quadratic equations when a certain lilac haired boy is off alone in the world somewhere?

I can only pray he isn't scared. I have seen Michael when he is scared. I have seen his small figure curl up and shake, like the world was trembling. I have watched his pretty green eyes fill with salty tears, dripping down his cheeks like glass crystals. I was there, at least for the last bit of his life in Greenwood, to swipe away the tears, but who will be there for him now?

I pass a small drugstore, squeezed in between two large department stores. I step out of the swarm of people and pull open the door, stepping inside carefully before walking directly up to the cashier behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" He asks, slumping over in his chair. I nod towards the cigarettes behind him, and he grabs a pack and pushes it towards me, holding out his hand for the money. I give it to him, pressing it into his palm before grabbing the pack and sliding out the door, just as quick as I had arrived.

I know it is wrong of me to smoke. I know it is, it is a common fact, but nobody can deny that it gives you relief. And honestly, relief is what I need right now. So I lean up against the wall of the drugstore and slide down to the ground, stretching out my legs and watching them brush against the legs of people walking by. My fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack and I quickly light it, watching the end blaze bright red as it starts to crumble.

I wrap my lips around the dry end and suck in harshly, trying to breathe in as much smoke as possible to get to the euphoria of silence. I stay here, sitting on the ground littered with trash and dirt, breathing in the toxins with a slowing heart.

I've almost forgotten that I am alive, lying against the brick wall, until I feel the industrious muscle throbbing in my chest. I almost wish it weren't. I wonder if it would be calming to be dragged into a mausoleum.

"Luke?" a voice penetrates the cloud in my head and I lift my eyes up to see an all-too familiar face staring at me with disappointment in her eyes. I stare at the wispy blond hair curling over her shoulders, his soft blue e face staring at me with disappointment in her eyes. I stare at the wispy blond hair curling over her shoulders, her soft blue eyes too soft for the situation at hand.

Her fingers reach out and grab the cigarette from my hand, twisting it on the ground and pulling my limp form from the ground. Liz switches her grocery bags to one arm so that she can keep me stable as she walks me through the crowd, receiving dirty looks from other people at my leisureliness.

Once we reach our apartment complex, Liz hurriedly pushes me through the front door, helping me up the stairs to get to our door. Once we get inside, I collapse on the couch, and my mum empties her arms on the counter, the rustling of plastic bags filling the air. Once everything is situated, she walks over to me and sits beside me on the couch, allowing me to lean my head in her lap. She runs her hands through my hair, twisting it around her fingers like she did when I was younger.

"Luke." she sighs. "I thought you had gotten over your addiction."

I don't answer.

"Anne told me you never smoked when you were in Greenwood. I thought it was over."

I don't answer, and my mum shuts her eyes.

"Baby, I know this is hard for you. And I'm trying to do the right thing, but you have been so depressed. You have to get better. You have to get better for me, okay, baby?" Liz blinks down at my dazed eyes and I focus them enough to noticed her glossed over eyes. I release a tiny sigh.

I don't expect her to understand what it is like. I don't expect her to be the type of mum to cuddle me and watch movies with me throughout the day. I don't expect her to reassure me with the hope that Michael might come back to me, somehow, some way. I don't expect her to give me ice cream to eat and all those little things that mums do, because she has never been one of those mothers. She is kind but stern. She has grown up in the city, and it has toughened her skin.

I force a small nod, and Liz pats my back, standing up and leaving me alone on the couch. "Thank you, Luke." she walks off to the kitchen to finish putting away the groceries, and I curl my knees to my chest, letting my hair fall into my eyes. I am so tired. So tired, and my throat is sore, and my eyes ache and I can't really force myself to function in fear that it might just lead to crying.

A few taxis blare their horns and I hear a couple loud voices leak through the thick walls of the apartment. I press my hands to the sides of my head, squeezing shut my eyes and feeling my throat close off. I feel so small, so small, in this huge world. One bleeding heart, my blood trying to drip onto a world map to find the one other pulsing heart that sits in the chest of my river boy.

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A/N holla because a shitty update that is so loNg overdue. not really proud of this one.

i hope you guys liked it and if not you can pretend i guess

the next update will not take as long I swear okay I love you guys please vote and comment it makes me happy bye