Luke's POV

“Luke, come out! We have to talk about this!” my mom says from outside my room. I'm sitting on the cold wood floor, my knees hugged to my chest as I lean on the door. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, the harsh pain sinking in quickly. I bite deeper until I can no longer feel the pain, only the slight vibrations beneath my teeth.

“Please, just let me in,” she begs. “This hurts me as much as it hurts you.”

I take a deep breath and slowly unlock the door, my hand wavering above the knob for a few seconds before I twist the lock. I walk over to my bed and wait for my mom to walk in, and when she does, she looks tired and upset. Her eyes seem heavy and her lips are turned into a frown. All of this seems to have aged her twenty years. She looks at me, and I look at her, neither of us saying anything. But she expects that from me.

“I don't want to do this to you, Luke. But it's the last resort,” she says, sitting down beside me. I don't look at her, I just nervously crack my knuckles. She sighs. “Your flight leaves in two days. I wish I could come, but I can't.” I stare blankly ahead. “This is what's best for us, for you. Your father and I,” she pauses, her voice cracking, “we just want you to be happy again.”

And with that, I leave my room and run down the stairs and out the front door. I slam it behind me, and the cold rain instantly impacts my skin once I'm outside, but I don't care. I continue walking down the dark street. The street lights are the only source of any brightness. I kick a pebble that's in front of me and hear it splash into a puddle.

I hate this.

How could my parents do this to me? Moving all the way to Maine to live with my dad doesn't seem like the solution to all my problems. I barely know him, and I'm entirely sure he doesn't know anything about me. I haven't seen him for three years. All I've gotten is some cards and presents on holidays.

He moved when I was 14 years old. At the time, everything was perfect. Perfect family, perfect friends, perfect life. All I did was eat, sleep, and play video games. What could have been better? I wish I could go back when everything was simple.

Nothing has been simple for awhile.

My mom says I'm leaving for many reasons. One being that I need a break from all the things that I'm far too familiar with and need to experience new things. I can't be around things that make me remember. She wants me to forget, everyone wants me to forget. But how can I forget everything about the one person I care about? It's not like I can just forget and everything will magically be okay.

I'll have to meet new people who know nothing about me. That could be a good thing, but it could also be a bad thing. That also means new therapists and doctors that have to learn everything about me. I don't want to go through that process again. All the questions and answers and forms and tests, I hate it. I was finally comfortable with all of my doctors, and now I have to start all over.

I pull my hood over my head and stuff my hands far into my pockets as I continue to think. I sigh heavily, wishing that things were different. Somehow, someway, I wish things were how they once were. How did things get to be this terrible?

“Splendiferous,” I say, the word rolling off my tongue. “Today is going to be splendiferous.”

“You're splendiferous,” Delia says smiling. I look over at her and see her dimpled cheeks as she smiles. She bites her tongue a little, she always does when she smiles widely.

That was the last time I saw her smile.

I blink quickly and rub my eyes furiously, trying to make the flashback stop. It's all so vivid in my mind, like it happened yesterday.

But it didn't. It happened six months ago. 182 days to be exact.

Every single day, I wish I didn't wake up. I wish things were different. I wish she was here with me, but she's not.

I sit on the curb, suddenly overcome with dizziness. This happens quite frequently when I think too much, usually about the incident. And I think a lot. The quietest people have the loudest minds, and mine is screaming for help, but my lips don't move.

I shake my head and place it in my hands, feeling the rain pound down on me. I stick my hand out and catch some falling water, watching it trickle through the small cracks between my fingers. I open up my cupped hand and watch all the water drop to the ground, splashing once it hits the pavement. It's like feeling on top of the world and everything's perfect, but suddenly the world opens up beneath you and you fall quickly. Everything changes. You're no longer at the top, you're suddenly at the bottom, watching everyone live life above you while you're stuck in a puddle.

That's what I feel like.

I wonder what it's like to not feel the rain on your skin or the hear the sound of it falling. I wonder what it's like to take your final breath. I wonder about a lot of things.

Most of my time is spent wondering.

A car drives by, slowing to a stop in front of me. The lights blind me for a second, but I quickly adjust and recognize who it is. The familiar chipped navy paint, and the dent that looks like a ghost makes the car recognizable almost anywhere.

“Get in the car,” Calum says once he rolls down the window. He always seems to know whenever I run out of the house or get into any sort of trouble. He's always the one to come get me.

I roll my eyes and get inside, turning off the radio. As usual, Calum has his music playing loudly. It annoys me how he can enjoy something so much when the world is a horrible, dreadful place.

I don't really like Calum, mostly because he reminds me of things I don't want to remember, but he tolerates me, so I tolerate him. He seems to be the only one who can.

He looks over at me and sighs. “Had a fight with your mom again?”

I nod, not looking up at him.

“Did she tell you?” he asks. I look up at him confused. How would he know before me? “She wanted to know what I thought about it all,” he says. He always knows what I'm thinking, and I don't really understand how he does.

I ball my hands into fists, my knuckles turning white. Calum knew and didn't tell me? I look over at him, my glare venomous.

“Look, Luke,” he says, turning down the street. “I want my best friend back. And I know this whole thing sucks, but nothing has helped so far. This might, okay?”

I sigh and look out the window, watching the rain slide down the smooth glass. I wonder what it's like to be a raindrop. I bet they pretend to race down the windows. I wonder if their life only lasts a few seconds, and if they die once they hit the ground.

I wish I was a raindrop. I bet they don't worry.

Calum continues to talk about stuff, but I zone out. I block out his talking all the time, and he knows that, but continues anyways. He never gives up. I hate it.

Once again I find myself thinking of living in Maine. It's thousands of miles away from Australia. I don't understand how moving so far away will help. If anything, it may make matters worse. Nothing will help me, it never will. They could send me to Mars, and I still wouldn't change. People can't be fixed once they're broken. They are like shattered glass, a bunch of tiny pieces that can't be taped back together. Invisible, sharp, and crushed. If I wanted to fix myself and put the pieces back together, I would, but I don't.

“Luke? Luke!” Calum says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I look over at him, turning my neck sharply to show my annoyance. I glare at him fiercely and wait for him to start talking. “As I was saying,” he says, “I think you should just go there and have no previous perceptions of it all. Just have an open mind, it'll be okay.”

It'll be okay.

That's what everyone said six months ago, and they continue to say that. Do I seem like everything's okay? No. Nothing will ever be okay.

“And,” Calum adds, “Delia would want you to do this. She would want you to be happy.”

I flinch at the mention of her name and bite my bottom lip nervously. All she ever wanted was for me to happy, but look where I am now.

“Sorry, I didn't... You know... I'm sorry,” Calum says, fumbling with his words.

I look away from him again and try to forget, like I always do. Just try to forget what I always remember.

“What should we do?” Calum asks quietly to change the subject. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and bites his lip. “I know you don't want to go back home.”

I shrug, and he knew I would respond with that, but he asked anyway.

“What about some pizza? Are you hungry?” he asks me.

I shrug again.

“Okay, pizza it is.”

We drive the rest of the way in silence, the only sound is the rain against the car and the tires rolling on the pavement. I wish everything was loud enough to drown out my thoughts, but nothing ever is. I will always be left thinking with all of my thoughts deafening me.

Once we get there, Calum orders for both of us, like always. He knows exactly what I want, a large Coke and a pepperoni pizza. I sit at the high table and wait, watching him lean against the counter as he folds the receipt neatly. His brow is furrowed as he waits, like something is bothering him.

I bet it's me. I'm a bother to everyone.

He sits across from me once the pizza is ready, picking up a slice full of cheese that stretches high until it breaks. He smiles and licks some sauce off of his thumb before biting into his slice.

“Are you gonna eat any?” he asks with his mouth full, nodding to the pizza.

I reach for a slice, even though I'm not hungry. I rarely ever am though.

“When do you leave?” Calum asks.

I sip my soda and pull my phone out of my pocket and type something quickly. Calum waits for my response and puts his pizza down.

A monotonous robotic voice comes out of my phone, reading what I had previously typed. “I leave in two days. How far away is Maine?”

Calum bites his lip and thinks. “I dunno. Definitely wicked far though.”

I type again. “Isn't Maine cold?”

“Yeah,” Calum says. “Like your heart.”

I roll my eyes and glare at him. He puts his hands up to defend himself.

“Anyways,” the robotic voice reads, “I'm glad it will be cold. I hate this hot weather. Maybe I can freeze to death.”

“You don't mean that,” Calum says.

I nod and raise my eyebrows at him.

I mean everything I say.

Or, to be exact, don't say.

Because the last time I talked was 182 days ago.

Hello friends. Long time no post. I am back and ready to write. I know this isn't Niall but I'm working a few new fanfics and this is my favorite so I'm posting it first. I've been working on them for months. I'M EXCITED.

You're probably quite confused right now, I want you to be. Luke is sorta going to be a mystery throughout this, and I'll slowly reveal things about him.

I made a twitter specifically for fanfic-like posts and fangirlyness, obviously. It's tutumuke. And my other one is fiannelash. Okay, I'm excited, and I hope you have/ had a good Easter.

AND I HOPE YOU LIKE THE BEGINNING. GOODBYE I SHALL BE BACK SOON HOPEFULLY. LEAVE COMMENTS ON WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS?

p.s. sorry for confusion when I posted this lol I think I accidentally deleted it?