The apartment was quiet as it always was, but today it seemed to have a certain deafening silence that hurt the boy's ears and gave him a raging headache. Maybe because he hadn't been there for a while, he'd gotten used to that little ball of energy that called him umma tipping in his ear in an annoyingly sweet high pitched voice. His stuff was still there, the building owner probably to lazy and cheap to move anything out, he guesses.

It smells different. Moldy and wet. Almost makes him want to puke. Why did he come here? All that's here are bad memories and regrets. He regret coming out to his father. Maybe he'd have come home everyday if he hadn't. He regret not being a better son. Maybe his mom wouldn't have left if he tried harder. He regretted ever applying to that damned school. Maybe his life wouldn't be so ed up like it is now.

There is one thing he wouldn't change. The one person who makes him feel loved. Despite all their problems, he's always there for him. Even with the trouble they're in, he still allowed him to stop by his old home one last time. But to do what, exactly? Say goodbye? Good riddance, that's what he thinks. So then, what was the point of coming here? All of his stuff was ruined by now. And it's not like he could take anything with him.

So... why?