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Josh rubbed his finger along the edge of the TV remote. The plastic was cold in his hand. The TV was paused on a close up of Glenn’s bloody face as he told Tara they “need to get out of here!” The living room was silent apart from the screams of his mother and the hushed but strained replies of his father.
He doesn’t remember how the fight started, just that he and his dad were watching The Walking Dead when she walked in and started in on him. Josh hadn’t moved since he hit pause and could feel his muscles begin to ache from holding them in the same tensed position for the last 10…? 15 minutes now? He wasn’t sure, he just kept thinking about how he wanted to retrieve Jim’s toy that had rolled under the TV stand when it was over. His vision had been locked onto it and blurring in and out of focus in an attempt to not watch what was happening to his right. When his vision was blurry he felt like he was floating outside of his body, outside of the present. What a relief that would be.
“I’m not the only one who lives here? I’m not the only one who lives here? Are fucking kidding me?!”
He wants to leave. He needs to get out of this house but he knows he won’t be able to. Josh doesn’t get to hang out with his friends without permission from his mom, which is really starting to piss him off. (Or it would if he could feel anything at the moment.) And it’s not like Josh would get up to anything she wouldn’t want him to either, all they do is go to the restaurants in town and loiter or go bowling where it's cheapest. He doesn’t smoke, do drugs, or even date so he doesn’t understand why she’s still demanding to know who’s going and for how long. In short, his fantasy of being able to leave the house once his parent’s newest screaming match was over was going to stay just that: a fantasy.
“I changed my entire life for you and you’ve done absolutely nothing for me! You ruined my life!”
Josh's eyes started to water as his vision went blurry on Jim’s toy again. He blinked hard and forced himself to return to reality. He had decided he was done crying about his parent’s complicated relationship years ago, shortly after the fight that ended with someone’s phone being thrown and his father hugging him and his siblings while crying and apologizing. For what, Josh didn’t know, and thinking about trying to figure it out made his stomach ache so he didn’t. He hadn’t cried or allowed himself to feel anything about the fights and screaming matches that happened in his house since then. He said “yes ma’am” and answered scathing questions until it was over and didn’t let anyone talk to him after it happened, all while floating outside of his body and feeling like the ground was shifting underneath him.
“You’ve just ruined the entire summer for the whole family. You did. This is your fault!”
Fuck. Josh had only been back from college for a week, and it was a tense week but that was the norm in his house. It had initially exploded last night when his mom and brother Jordan got into it at 2am where the whole house could hear, but he thought that that would be the big event and things would calm down for a while. No. It turns out that things weren’t as peaceful as Josh thought they were while he was gone. But he guesses he doesn’t blame anyone for not wanting to call or text to catch him up on the latest blow up.
“I’m sorry you had to be here for that Josh.”
Josh blinked back to reality at the sound of his father’s voice. He hadn’t realized they were alone now.
He cleared his throat. “It’s fine.” His mouth was dry.
“No, it’s not. I don’t think anything about what just happened was fine,” his dad said flatly.
Josh just shrugged and stared at the dog toy. He didn’t know what to do. Running away to hide in his room upstairs didn’t feel right but staying downstairs in the living room also didn’t feel right. He finally shifted positions in the cushioned chair and unclenched his teeth. He didn't realize he was clenching them but knew he was when he felt them ache in his mouth. Josh had been doing that more since going to college and didn’t know how to stop.
He looked up at the TV at Glenn’s downcast eyes. It didn’t feel right to keep watching either, not after what just happened. Josh wondered what Tyler was doing right now. Probably playing basketball in his driveway or listening to music, blissfully unaware of what his best friend was dealing with. That’s how Josh liked it though. Well, not truly liked it, but it's what was easiest. Josh’s dad was known in their town and liked by all of Josh’s friends and he didn’t want to ruin their idea of him with stories of what happens at home, plus he doesn’t trust any of them enough not to go telling people about it. Again, that’s not entirely true. He trusts Tyler but… But a part of him also doesn’t want to have to face reality. To speak honestly about how fucked his family is, as if it would make it more true somehow. Would make it real.
Also his mom, well… his relationship with his mom was extremely complicated. As much as she screams and calls him names she still loves him (he’s pretty sure), and it would just feel weird to vent about his mom’s yelling and degrading words one week and the nice thing she did or bought him the next. So Josh just keeps it to himself. It’s ok. Fine, even. He’ll forget about it all by tonight.
——————————————————————
That night, Josh lays in bed staring at the ceiling. His fan blows angrily in the corner and his CD player blinks at him from atop the dresser in the darkness. He doesn’t know how long ago the album he was listening to finished playing. Probably a while. He’s been trying to fall asleep for hours but his mind keeps drifting back to the fight he was forced to bear witness to in the living room. When he starts to think too deeply about what it might mean for his parents’ relationship and their family as a whole his skin starts to itch and his stomach hurts so he thinks about something else. He doesn’t hurt himself anymore.
That something else he thinks about is how badly he needs to escape, even if just for a few hours. He forgot how exhausting constantly calculating everyone’s (but mostly his mother’s and rarely his father’s) current emotion and possible reaction to every action was. This train of thought also made his skin itch but it was manageable. It was no different than what he had been feeling for years, his entire life possibly. It was a familiar weight to carry. He just needed to remind his muscles how to handle it again after 8 months of peace.
“I should call Tyler.”
Josh doesn’t know why he whispered that out loud. Maybe because he was floating and it brought him back to reality. Maybe to make himself feel real. Maybe those are the same thing. With herculean effort, Josh lifted his arm to retrieve his phone from the nightstand. When he opens Instagram he sees that Tyler is active. Josh types out a message.
>hey
>call me?
Almost as soon as “seen” appears below his message his screen lights up with a phone call from Tyler. “Hey,” Josh’s voice cracks and sounds thick like he’d been crying but he hadn’t. Had he? Fingers brushed lightly across his cheek reveal that he had. He doesn’t remember it. So much for his commitment to indifference. “What’s up?” Tyler returns. Josh sighs and pulls the phone away from his ear to put the call on speaker and goes to their messages.
>can u just talk
>idc what about
>just anything
His fingers hover over the keyboard, hoping that Tyler sees the notifications and he doesn’t have to speak again.
>please
There’s a moment of silence as Tyler reads them and Josh’s heart beats quickly in his chest, praying that he’s not bothering his friend and making Tyler hate him. Tyler could never hate him,or at least that’s what he’s told Josh but it doesn’t completely stop his worrying.
“Of course dude,” Tyler’s reply is soft from Josh’s phone’s speaker and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Josh’s eyes trace the intermittent patterns that passing cars trace through the blinds on his window as Tyler starts talking and Josh bounces between topics with him. New music from this band. He made 87 baskets today before getting too tired. This album wasn’t that good. He’s thinking about asking for a new keyboard for his birthday. A professor he had last semester was crazy. Registering classes for the fall was stressful. Some guy jumped in a fountain during finals.
After a while, there’s a natural lull in Tyler’s one sided conversation. “My parents got into another fight today,” Josh states.
There’s silence for a moment. “A fight?”
“Yeah.”
“Another? How long has this been happening?” Tyler asks, concerned.
He thinks back to the house they lived in till he was eleven. To pressing his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut while hiding under the covers. To angry phone calls about mandatory work trips on Valentine’s Day while he and his siblings watched a movie in the other room. To the present house. To pretending he can’t hear through the walls. To many, many tense dinners. To years of living as silently as possible in his own home.
“For as long as I can remember, I think.”
More silence.
He forgot how uncomfortable being known was. To say something only given thought in the dead of night out loud, and then have to look at the person he said it to, and even worse, be looked at by them in return. At least this wasn’t a video call. His skin still itches though and he needs to make it stop. Josh drags his nails down his clothed thigh gingerly and clenches his teeth. Then unclenches them. The aching would kill him later.
“Has it ever been physical?”
Josh remembers the broken phone and his father’s tears. His cheek stinging after talking back. “No.” It’s only a partial lie. He’ll remedy it later.
“Do they ever,” he pauses, “do they ever yell at you?” Josh thinks of floating above his body and the floor tilting beneath him. Of being told he is many things, none of them kind.
“Yeah, but she’s usually right to. I’m kind of a crappy son.”
Tyler is silent and Josh drags his nails up his thigh again. He doesn’t feel anything but his buzzing skin at the moment. He wonders if that should worry him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you like that,” Josh apologizes. Tyler’s prolonged silence made his stomach ache.
“No, it’s ok I’m just… processing I guess,” he replies. Josh nods even though Tyler can’t see him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Josh shrugs, again, in spite of the lack of video. “It was easier to keep it to myself. Too complicated,” is all he can say.
“Why are you just telling me now?”
This stumps Josh and he frowns at the cracks in his ceiling in contemplation. “I… don’t know. I couldn’t… keep it in anymore, I guess.”
The two sit in silence. Josh listens to the whir of his fan as he realizes he feels a little bit better. Then realizes that he called hoping that his best friend could magically make everything better but there’s nothing that he can do. Josh can’t leave his house because he’s too scared to approach his mom to ask and Tyler now knowing why he shies away from loud noises doesn’t change the fact that it’s probably going to happen again. Tyler can’t just ask his parents to stop, can’t ask them to love each other again. This was childish and selfish. Tears fill Josh’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, I guess a part of me thought that somebody else knowing about it would make everything better. Would fix it. But that’s not,” Josh sniffs, “that’s not how life works.”
“Josh I…”
“No, it’s not your burden to carry. I’m sorry,” Josh interrupts. He hangs up, curls up in a ball, and prays for sleep to save his pillow from his tears.