Seeing Family.

Malkin went to go see his mother in where ever the hell, I wasn't paying any attention when he told me where he was going. I just kept nodding my head, while I watched the Home Improvement show. Don't judge, nothing else was on.

He packed his way out of the apartment and drove to the airport faster then I could mumble "Love you too" as his car left the parking lot.

The clock hit 12 noon when I finally got kicked out of my trance. I looked around the apartment to realize Malkin did leave.

Oops, I should pay more attention sometimes...

I grabbed my phone off the glass coffee table in front of me and looked at my messages.

Malkin 10:15- "Got to the airport"

Malkin- 10:20 "Hello? I'm waiting for my plane, lay overs or something."

Malkin- 10:45 "BOOOOORRRREEEEDDDDDDD...."
Malkin- 11:30 "Snuggly Bear! Answer your phone, I'm getting on the plane now."
Malkin- 3 missed calls.

Malkin- 11:45 "They're making us turn our phones off now. Did you even notice I left???"

I sighed, looking around the empty apartment. It really needed some more furniture but I could care less as long as I have my TV, couch and bed.

My eyes shifted to a couple pictures on the TV stand. One was a photo of my brother Kyle. It was one of him and his old girlfriend. A picture of my mother and my father sat next to it, collecting dust.
I don't like my parents much. My father and I fought a lot, had an abusive past with him as well . Tell he walked out on the family. My mother has always been the ditsy kind of woman. Who misses everything and doesn't really care. Possibly how she dealt with my father leaving so easily.

Though after he left, non of us heard of him again. We all thought for the better, and that he just didn't want to deal with us. Or that he got drunk and killed off somewhere. We didn't care. Or at least I didn't.

I thought about going and seeing her. I hadn't since my brother died, and she probably has forgotten me...

So I got up, letting the blood rush back down to my legs, and grabbing my keys and phone off the table.

I got on my bike, smiling as the engine roared. I loved that bike, almost as much as Malkin, but don't tell him that.

I left the parking lot and kicked down the highway to mother's....

Her house was a typical old person's home, I guess it's typical at least. The front was pristine, with flours, bushes, perfectly cut grass, paint on the house that seemed to be new, and a big red door drawing you to her layer.

I fixed myself, looking down to my white Vneck, blue and white plaid shorts and my black Pumas.

She never liked the fact that I was gay, but man did she love Malkin. It kind of bothered me cause I never had the connection with her that he's managed to make.

I raised my fist to knock on the door when it opened in front of me. It startled me a little, but her upright figure looked at me.

Her hazel eyes, never losing it's gaze looked into my deeper green-hazel eyes.

Her eyebrows lowered and turned into her living room. This meant "come in."

"Hi" I said, walking in and closing the door behind me. I attempted to take my shoes off, but gave up so I could leave faster when I needed too. "How did you know I was here?" I asked looking around the non-familiar room.

She moved into a smaller bungalow when Kyle moved out of our childhood home. I didn't care, I wanted to burn that house down, always gave me nightmares.

"Where's Malkin?" She asked without saying hello back.

"Uh... Not here." I simply said. Not wanting to admit that I didn't remember where he rushed off to.

"I heard your motor bike. I thought I told you to get serious and by a BMW, or a Chevy or something." She said sitting in her purple chair by the fireplace. I rolled my eyes and sat across from her on the back leather couch. She was smoking her same old cigarette. The old one from the 1920's that was a long stick. I definitely got my smoking addiction from her.

It still smelled like my father's aftershave so I got up and moved to the other chair next to the fireplace.

Her eyes watched outside instead of me, I adjusted my drown leather bracelet on my wrist and swallowed, "Are you not happy to see me?"
"When your brother died, I lost both my sons..." She snapped back, still not looking at me.

"I had nothing to do with Kyle's death, you know that. He commi-" I stopped before I got into more trouble.

She batted an eye at me and looked back at the window.

"What do you need? Money? I thought you had a job." She obviously didn't want my presence. I guess I deserved it since I never came to visit her. But you can understand why...

"No, I'm fine with money thank you, and Bob's Car Mechanic is doing just fine, I get plenty of income." I softly said. I quit looking at her and around the room to the empty walls. The fireplace held a large painting of a forest scenery, close to night. I remember the painting being in her room at the old house.

"So you're getting all your money off of Malkin eh? How the hell did you afford that bike anyways?" She bickered on, I wasn't enjoying myself.
"Mom, I'm not living off of any of Malkin's money! Cut it will you? I need to ask you something about Kyle." I said changing the subject.

"Huh?" He questioned simply. Except I didn't know how to answer 'Huh'.

"Kyle...killed himself because he went crazy right?" I asked reassuring the facts.

"Kyle died because of you, Chastin." I clenched my right fist when she said that.

"Will you please stop blaming me for his death!I hadn't even seen him for maybe six months before he passed!" I raised my voice quite loudly, but keeping myself calm. My fist just kept getting tighter.

"You killed Kyle, Chastin. Stop denying it. If you really want to know how crazy he got before his life came to and end, I have a box of his things in the hall closet. Take it home and please get out of my house." I couldn't see the emotion from her face at all. I got up from the chair and retrieved the box from her closet. It had Kyle's name written on it in cursive. I clenched it near me and went for the door.

I said a simple "Fuck you" and closed the door behind me.

I strapped the box to the back of my bike and road home.

If fire could mimic my emotions, I would be engulfed in flames.