A full week has passed of doing practically nothing aside from playing video games, watching anime and reading manga. Nothing special happened. On the third day my mom sent the time to come and this is the day. I need to be at their house in about two hours.

I looked through my closet to find something nice to wear. Finding a blue t-shirt and some jeans, I started dressing up. First I put the t-shirt on. After that, I started putting on my jeans. I couldn't do it while standing so I opted to sit on my bed, trying to get the damn thing on. 

"Fucking hell." I cursed. This took like 5 minutes to get on. Guess I'm not in shape. I smirked at the thought of me wearing those jeans before this whole fiasco. Before I became a trash weeabo who eats unhealthily. 

I went outside feeling uncomfortable. This is so fucking weird.. going outside. Breaking the routine. This is probably good for me. Still, I can't help but have the feeling that my visit to my parents isn't going to be all flowers and sunshine. Honestly, I'm not looking forward to it. I hope we will have some technical difficulty and I won't be able to come.

Alas, everything went as planned. I got on the bus, and after 30 minutes of boringly looking through Twitter on my phone, the bus arrived to my destination. After getting down from the bus and walking another 10 minutes I got to an apartment complex. 

It looked grey and worn out. It had six floors and was pretty wide. Still, you could practically see the natural color of the bricks that the house is made of fading away. A funny thought to be sure. 

After getting inside and calling the elevator, my sense of unease skyrocketed. I don't know what they want from me, and I don't really want to find out. I rather continue on with my life then having awkward conversations with the embodiment of my childhood. 

Taking a deep breath, I went inside the elevator which has already opened. After pressing the button for the fourth floor, the elevator started going up. My thoughts were already muddled and I didn't notice my surroundings until the elevator arrived. 

I went outside and tried to psyche myself up. This is it. This is the time. The time to confront my dad and mom. I can make an educated guess about what they want to talk about.

I worked to their door and stood in front of it. Fidgeting, I knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before someone opened it.

It was my mom, a woman in her fifties having brown eyes and curly blond hair that reached her shoulders. She was wearing white shorts and a loose red shirt. 

"Hey Josh. Please, get inside." she said, beckoning me to get into the apartment. "Hm hm." was my reply. When I was inside I looked around the living room. It looked the same. 

Same old TV, rugged black leather couch, a coffee table made of glass, a brown fluffy big carpet and a few paintings of flowers hanging on the wall. And then I saw him. My dad. The fucker that made my life the way it is now… well at least he is the one I blame.

He was tall and fit. He wore some casual blue pants and his work shirt. He was looking at me with an unreadable expression from the hallway of the house. After looking at each other for a few seconds, my mom came back from the kitchen and sat some food down on the coffee table. 

"What are you doing, staring at each other? Come on, food is served." My mom said stiffly. She could probably feel the tension as if it was slamming to her like a hammer onto a nail. 

We both stopped the staring contest before slowly going to the table. We stood in front of each other, both not wanting to be the first to talk. "What are you.. five? Just stop and greet each other already." Seems like mom had enough of our rather childish behaviour. 

"Hey." I said, trying to be casual, before extending my hand. "Hi." Dad said before extending his own. We shook hands and then plopped down on the couch. I looked in front of me and saw a plate with rice and chicken in it. I took the spoon which came included with the meal and started quietly eating. I didn't want the one to start the conversation.

It appears my dad had the same thought. My mom looked at both of us before releasing a tired sigh from her lips. "You should man up. I had enough. I'm leaving." And she left, leaving her plate of food to get cold. 

After a few seconds I started feeling awkward. Guess I need to really man up and start the damn conversation already. Fucking hell. 

"So.. how have you been?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Dad stopped eating and took a few breaths. "I've been fine. You?" He asked me back.

This is not what a conversation between two adult relatives should sound like. But even adults can sometimes be childish, so I guess it's fine. "I'm doing fine. So, what did you want to talk to me about? You did ask me to come here." I demanded. Well demanded is a strong word. More like.. I asked harshly. Yes.. asked harshly..

"Well… I think that we need to resolve the little bout between the two of us.. so I wanted to say sorry. I'm sorry I kicked you out of the house. I'm sorry I made him die. I'm sorry. It's all my fault." My dad said after putting his food down. The guy didn't even look me in the eyes. The fucker is not even really apologising. All he wants is to have ties with me, I know. But sometimes you just cross a line. And the line has been crossed.

"Mom told you to do this, right? It was all her right? You don't even want to fucking apologize. I'm sorry, but I can't hear this shit right now." I said with teary eyes before standing up. This is it. This is my decision. I won't come back. This is what broke the camel's back. This is the last straw. I'm done with this fucking bullshit.

I went to the front door, opened it and went outside. The trip back home is blank. I went on autopilot, not noticing anything. I think I even cried a little at the bus stop. But it doesn't matter. I made a decision and I will stick to it. 

I got home and closed the door behind me. A grunt of anger escaped my lips. I was angry as all fuck right now. Angry at my dad, at my mom, at myself and at the situation. This is so fucked up. 

I started punching the air until I was exhausted. I stumbled to my room, opened the door, fell onto the bed and cried myself to sleep.