Josh's POV.

I curled myself into a ball and laid on my bed, trembling while I heard my parents arguing in the living room. What have I done? How could I do this to them? I wiped my tears away with my sleeve as I mentally kicked myself. Why the hell did I go to that party? Look how I've disappointed them now. They're fighting because of me. They're fighting because I fucked up badly. I got up from my bed, retrieved my blue journal from my school bag, flipped it open and began spilling my thoughts into it:

Rock a bye baby

Safe in his tree,

Feeling love and comfort,

So happy and free.

Rock a bye baby

A storm hit the sky,

Destroyed the tree

And made baby cry.

Tears flow freely

As the evil storm,

Swipes up his family

Leaving him alone.

I sat there on the bed, journal on my lap and pen danglingin between my fingers. I heaved a huge sigh of relief once I could no longer hear any yelling. I put my journal back in my bag, changed into my pyjamas, and crawled into bed. After cursing at myself for yelling at Aba the way I did, I cried softly until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I woke up, showered and got dressed as usual. I wore black jeans, a blue Charlie Brown sweatshirt and my leather jacket. Stuffing my journal and pen into the huge inside pocket of the jacket, I tiptoed into the living room to find Dad lying on the couch. His legs and left arm were hanging right off the side and the blanket was more on the floor and on him. I cringed thinking how uncomfortable he must have been, then I gulped deeply, remembering that it was my fault Aba made Dad sleep on the couch at night. Just then, their bedroom door opened and out walked Aba, in a white shirt and grey sweatpants, busy rubbing his eyes and putting on his glasses. I ran up to him and threw his arms around his skinny frame, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sorry Aba! I'm so sorry for yelling at you last night. I didn't mean to. I was only trying to stand up for you guys. I promise I'll never yell at you or get angry again. I'm really sorry. I love you so much," I blubbered as I buried my face into his shoulder.

"Ohhhh Yeshula, don't cry! I love you too. It's not your fault, baby. Honest. I'm not angry with you at all. Please don't cry," he mumbled as he hugged me back so tightly, his hand gently caressing my hair.

I sniffled. "And I'm sorry I made you and Dad fight."

He pulled away, wiped my tears from my face and looked straight into my eyes. "Don't Josh, please. I said it's not your fault. Please stop apologizing. We weren't arguing because of you. It was about……some of the things that happened much before you were born. But don't worry. Dad and I fight all the time. We'll be okay, I promise." He kissed my forehead and smiled to try and lift my spirits, whispering, "I love you so much." I smiled back, but I wasn't quite convinced if he was telling me the truth. But I mumbled an 'okay' nonetheless.

Aba wiped his eyes quickly, thinking I didn't notice when really I did. "Thank you, Yeshula. So, how about some breakfast then?"

Before I could answer, he was already in the kitchen making me waffles with maple syrup and strawberries on top, my favourite breakfast ever since I could eat solid foods. It looked and smelled absolutely delicious when he dished them into my plate, but somehow I just couldn't bring myself to eat it. My hunger was replaced by a sick, scared feeling at the pit of my stomach that maybe I had caused a huge bump in my parents' relationship. But I ate anyway, swallowing the food which felt like lumps of clay, and I watched Dad as he tossed and turned trying to get comfortable on the sofa and Aba trying to edit his latest documentary quietly in the corner without so much even looking at Dad. I quickly blinked away my tears, placed my dishes in the sink and said to Aba, "I'm going to the park," and closed the sliding door behind me.

I walked the streets of Alphabet City in a daze, my hands deep in my pockets. Aba may have forgiven me for what I did, but I still couldn't forgive myself. I had these two amazing parents who took me in to love and raise me as their own and make their relationship stronger and now I just ruined it for them. I kept walking until I found the building that I was looking for, and walked up the dark, dingy steps. I knocked on the door a couple of times; stopping when I heard a deep, muffled voice say, "Hold on, I'm comin'!" The door opened, and there stood the person whom I knew would always be there whenever I needed to talk.

"Hey Joshman! How you doin', little buddy?"

I smiled in relief. "Hi Uncle Collins. Are you busy?"

Uncle Collins smiled widely at me. "Not at all, dude. I always have time for you." He pulled me into one of his famous bear hugs, which I absolutely loved, and I hugged him right back. He guided me into his apartment, closed the door and told me to sit down. I sat on the single seater and examined all the IT magazines that lay sprawled on the table and floor.

He opened the fridge and asked me, "D'ya want something to drink? I got orange soda."

I mumbled a 'yes please' to Uncle Collins, who opened the can and handed it to me, smiling once again. I thanked him and slowly sipped the sugary drink, thinking about how I was gonna start talking. After getting himself a can, Uncle Collins sat himself in the seat adjacent to me and asked, "So, what brings you to my humble lair?"

I bit my lip. "It's my parents. We...…I mean, I…..I messed up big time last night and now they're mad at each other. They were fighting like crazy last night, and Aba made Dad sleep on the couch. And now they're barely speaking to each other." My voice shook as I spoke. "Oh God, if only I hadn't…."

Uncle Collins was next to me in a second, kneeling on the floor and gently rubbing my arm. "Look Josh, I understand how you feel. But let me tell you that it's perfectly normal, okay? Couples fight all the time. That's what keeps their love strong. Angel and I used to have our fair share of fights, if I remember correctly. But no matter what happened, we always made up in the end; especially at night." He winked and nudged me in the arm. I giggled softly, my face getting warm. "Do you know why? Because we loved each other so much, we couldn't bear to hurt each other or be without each other for long. Because of the illness that we both suffered, we made it a point to enjoy every moment that we had. And we did, ever since Angel started to get sicker and sicker."

I was transfixed as I watched him tell the story about his love, tears brimming in both our eyes. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and handed him a tissue, which he used to wipe his tears. But I knew that it would take a lot more than a box of Kleenex to ease his pain. He continued, "From then on, I spent every waking moment telling her how much I loved her and how much she meant to me. She may be gone, but I know that her spirit is still alive and pumping; in this flat, in the loft, heck, in this whole damn city! Everywhere I go, I feel her. Because I love her so much and I'm keeping her memory alive. Despite all the arguments we had, we never lost the love that we shared. And I know that Mark and Roger won't either. They've been my best friends for a long time, and I know how much those bitches really love each other, even if they have fights. They're your parents and they love you more than anything, Josh. Whatever happens between them, please remember that it's not your fault, okay? It's never your fault. Just be there for them and let them know that you love them every chance you get. I'm sure everything will be just fine." He wiped his face dry and smiled sadly at me.

I smiled right back through my tears. "Ok, I will. Thank you, Uncle Collins. Thank you so much for being there for me," I mumbled into his shoulder as I hugged him tightly.

Uncle Collins wrapped his arms around my smaller frame and hugged me so hard. "Anytime, Joshy. Whenever you need a friend, I'm always here. Don't you ever forget that."

"I never will. Thank you so much." After we pulled away, I waved him goodbye and exited his apartment. I walked back towards the loft with a little more hope this time. I hoped to God that Uncle Collins was right and that this whole thing would blow over.

There ya go. Collins obviously still has HIV, in case anyone is wondering. That poem, I wrote itmyself especially for Josh. Some if this chapter is based on a few personal experiences of mine, so yeah...