closed starter | sylvia nash
Sundays were the day PJ saved for his parents. Even if it was just running a few errands with them or having lunch, it was the day he always made sure he spent time with them. He was standing in the front hallway waiting for his mother when he stared into a family picture that was half his life ago. The boy that left for the military 15 years ago, just weeks after his high school graduation never returned. As if PJ ever explored those feelings, but it was pictures like these that reminded him where he had one arm around his little sister’s shoulders and both were showing a smile that he could still remember hurt his face. And if not the pictures then the shift in topics he and his father conversed about were signs of a different man standing there with Jose, someone closed off and scared. PJ couldn’t really even solely blame the military anymore, this truce that died between the diablos and the reapers was something he didn’t see coming nor did he really know how to deal with. What it really came down to was PJ just missed feeing guided by Jose. The sit downs and talks about the future, the stories the older man had, and the unconditional love he showed by just wanting a good life for his son. Now PJ didn’t have time for any of that, there was too much violence in his head from the past and his inevitable future. The Javez’s first born stood there, just staring at the wall across from him so absentminded and nearing a breakdown when his father’s voice echoed in his head. “Mijo,” The word brought him back down to earth and he looked over to focus on his father. “Si, we’ll be back soon, pops.” He held the front door open for his mother to walk out and he affectionately squeezed his father’s shoulder before following her to the car. Today was the hardware store getting paint for the kitchen and he wasn’t sure why his mom had the sudden urge to redecorate but who was he to deny her desire to finally cover up the burnt toast orange colour the walls were.
The hardware store visit was easy enough since PJ was shoo’d away after suggesting a deep plum that was near black. He could tell it was going to be a long process when she started comparing different shades and brands. The Diablo excused himself and snuck outside for a cigarette break. He walked a few steps from the store front, lighting a cigarette, just wondering aimlessly down the small strip area. PJ was rarely on this side of town, and certainly not in this small area. He never had any business here and he, now more than ever, tried staying on the Diablo side of Newton, the farthest from Stratford, if only to avoid running into a Reaper and being the reason it all went down. His pace was slow as he walked by a candy shop and peered in, then came a pizza place with a few arcade games, and then a hair salon when he stopped dead in his tracks. Sylvia. A memory he’d never forget no matter how many times he had wished to. The flip his heart did before falling to the pit of his stomach made his knees quake a bit. He swallowed the lump that had quickly formed in his throat and he folded his lips together before letting out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in. PJ wasn’t even sure if he wanted her to see him, but the longer he stood there just staring into the store the more opportunity he was giving anyone to just stare at him. Surely he looked like a stalker or a Michael Myers type standing there in the window, wide legged and just watching Sylvia move about and interact with others. His heart was beating so quickly, the hand that had his cigarette in between two fingers came up to his chest to lay flat in an attempt to call down the ticker inside. Once he realised someone in the shop who was sitting down was now staring back at him, he snapped to and took a few moments to get his bearings before he turned and walked to the curb and sat down. “Fuck me,” he whispered, taking another very long drag of his cigarette and smoothing back his hair. @snobbed
