This house, Mir decided, completely defied natural science theory. Never before had he heard of purple mold, but as he stood in front of the kitchen sink with a look of absolute disgust, he stared at a large patch of vomit smelling, was purple fur that he swore moved. Turning his head away, he squenched up his face and pretended to gag. How he’d lived here these past years without getting terminally ill from all the mold and bacteria he just didn’t understand, but he thanked the high heavens that he was still alive, especially after all the crudeness that he’d seen today.

For the first time in months the kitchen floor could be seen. The tiles were filthy and cracked, but they could be seen and that was all due to ten large black garbage bags that were now sitting at the curb, each filled to the brim with beer bottles and other trash that he had not contributed to. And now that he finally had space to move around, it was time to set work to the counters and sink.

I swear to God if I find another cockroach, spider, mouse, ant, centipede, or anything that moves I’m going to take it and dump it in their bed, he thought with a grimace as he pulled a new pair of rubber gloves on. Reaching forward, making all kinds of disgusted faces, he grabbed a stack of junk and quickly dumped it into the bag, pretending to gag at the odor. He’d already opened all the windows, hoping to air out the smokey, dusty, weed smelling, contamination that was lingering in the house, but there was so much rotten food and such that it still reeked like a waste yard.

Throwing down his bag in disgust, Mir crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“Why the hell am I even doing this? I should just leave and go over to Joonie’s,” He told himself, feeling ridiculed by the fact that he’d even bothered listening to his father in the first place. What’s the worst that old man could do? Beat him? He’d done it a million times already, once more would make no difference. Besides, it’s not like that’d be able to find him if he left.

And Joon would protect me, he always does.

And it was settled then. Peeling off the rubber gloves, grimacing at how sweaty his hands were,