What is home?
Bartys pov: 2015
Where was he? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he was in a room that he very much did not fall asleep in, and he doesn’t sleep walk. But it wasn’t his room. Where was he?
Had he been kidnapped? Where’s his mum? She’s not here. The doors locked and his mums not here. Where is she? He called out for her but to no avail. There was no sound, just the sound of his heartbeat quickly picking up the pace. Barty hates the quiet and this was quiet. He’s always been so talkative to avoid the silence but here, everywhere is silent.
His mums not here and its too quiet and he’s stuck. Barty is lost.
There’s a clicking sound coming from the door, He freezes. He wants out but he’s scared. This isn’t home, where is home?
The man standing on the opposite side of the door was shorter than he was. He couldn’t recognise his eyes, his hair. He was a stranger, unrecognisable features, posture. Complete stranger. He’s not home. Where is home?
“Thought you’d never wake up. Get a move on, lunch time” lunch time?
Barty doesn’t move. Neither does the man. They stare at each other. Barty confused, the man waiting.
“This isn’t home” His voice was raspy, as if it hadn’t been used in months, but that’s not right. The man nods before walking forward “Don’t fight. This is safety protocol” He listens. Why does he listen? He could probably take this man on and run. He doesn’t but he definitely could. He remains still as the man locks his hands in handcuffs, he remains still when he’s told to move. He remains still until he forced to move.
He’s not the only person being escorted, So many younger and older people. No one familiar and yet Barty still can’t help but wonder, where is home?
It becomes routine. He wakes up, he eats, he goes back to his room, he eats, he showers, he sleeps. Its odd, He’s never followed a routine before yet it’s so easy to grow accustomed to but the last time he checked, this isn’t home.
Where is home? Where is mum?
“Where’s my mum?” He asks one day, the man looks him up and down before sighing “look kid, Sometimes, parents don’t want their children. They say their kids are ungrateful, insane, and they send them here. And when they’re here, they can’t leave. Now you have no mum, no dad. It’s just you, your bed, and these pills” He hands Barty a pill that’s been required of him to take every night before he sleeps, he never fights. Why doesn’t he fight?
He takes the pill, the man disappears, he’s back in bed.
He never questions the pills, he just knows they’re good, they help him forget the bad, forget his dad and forget anyone else who throws their children out to places like this.
He hates and he forgets, it’s how he lives, it’s how he survives. It’s how he always survives.
Pills are good, they let him rest, they let him forget. Where is home?
Home requires thinking and thinking hurts Barty’s brain. Home is more than a place, it’s a feeling, it can be people but not always.
Is it the people that desert him and make him live in a shady place with tasty pills? Or is it the people who hold you when you fall, who fix you when you break? Barty can’t tell anymore.
What is home?
Barty keeps forgetting. He forgets the smell of his mothers homemade cherry bakewells still in the oven, he forgets the sound of rain as it tapped harshly on his bedroom window during a storm, he forgets the pressure of being the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect lover, he forgets love.
What is home and what is love?
Are they the same? They feel the same.
Love is a lopsided grin ready to greet you in the morning. Its blonde hair falling gracefully over a bandana used to keep his hair out of his face without cutting it. It’s the smell of smoke and whiskey in the burning moonlight. Its the feeling of hands interlocking and laughter breaking eardrums but still being a sound you cant get enough off. Its the feeling of forever.
Evan was forever.
What is home? What is love? And where is Evan?
Has he even noticed the departure of his boyfriend or is Barty another ignore and forget situation? Is Evan a hate and forget situation? No
He can’t forget Evan; he still has the ring.
They couldn’t exactly get married at the time as it was illegal, being promised to one another was the closest they could’ve gotten.
Barty wakes up playing with the ring, He eats playing with the ring, he goes back to his room playing with the ring, he eats playing with the ring, he showers admiring the ring, he’d probably play with the ring falling asleep if he remembered falling asleep. Barty keeps forgetting. Apparently so do they.
They took everything of Bartys on his first day there, they forgot the ring. Barty always wore the same as everyone else did, plain white top and trousers, grey socks. Nothing different. But he still had his ring. Luck or fate, who knows? They forgot the ring.
What is home? What is love? Where is Evan? Why is he forgetting?
Barty wishes his mum would save him.
But he’s insane right?
“Right, Evan? I’m insane?”
“no”
“But she sa- “
“It doesn’t matter what Bella says. You’re perfect”
What is perfect?