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Don't Leave Me Alone
Life is really shitty, just gonna say that now.
I had recently just broke up with my boyfriend, Elliot. Since we are both in the closet it didn't really work out. That didn't stop me from getting depressed after the whole thing. I wouldn't go out of my room for any other reason than food, school, and the bathroom. After a few weeks my parents noticed and called me downstairs for a talk. I begrudingly sat on the light coloured sofa across from them. "Hey sweetheart, we've noticed you're a little down lately. Is something wrong?" my mother said, wearing the cross necklace she had for years now. Both my mum and dad were super religious, so I can't really say 'Oh yeah my boyfriend and I broke up' without getting baptised in my kitchen sink. "Mark, you know you can tell us anything." "Not really dad.." I mumbled under my breath. "Markie honey, what could be so bad that you can't tell us?" I was starting to get really pissed, getting interogated in my own house. "A lot of things, actually." my voice slightly raised. My dad clenched his fists and stood up "That is not how you talk to your mother, you hear me?!" "No, I can't hear you over how bigoted you are." We both started yelling. After a while of this I did the thing I regret most. "ME AND MY BOYFRIEND BROKE UP OKAY???? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED??" The room went silent, and became tense. "Go to your room" That was the last normal thing I heard from my mother for a long time. I stomped up the stairs and slammed my door. I was crying, I'm dead, I'm not yet but I'm gonna die. There was crying and yelling downstairs. My phone was dead so I couldn't call my best friend, it's not like I could leave the house either. The yelling stopped and all there I could hear was frantic talking. I ended up falling asleep soon after. When morning came my eyes were swollen and heavy. "Fuck me." It was Saturday, which means I have to spend a whole ass weekend with the demons I called family. "Mark, get down here!" I heard the muffled voice of my father beckon me downstairs. I slowly rose out of my bed and went to the voices calling me. "Sit" the man ordered me. I stayed standing. "Listen Mark, we called a good friend of ours and he said he could make room for you." the lady said trying not that hard to sound sweet. "Oh good, I'm being kicked out." "Let your mother finish." the man said. I glared, I really can't give two shits about anything right now. The lady mustered up the words to tell me the thing I feared most at that moment.
"We're sending you to conversion therapy camp. We don't agree with the life style you've chosen. It's a sin Mark! It's written in the bible. And not to mention completley unnatural."
Before I knew it my bags were packed and outside my childhood home. There a car pulled into the street and a man opened it's door. It was the mother fucking priest. "Morning Mr. Stone." He said and patted my shoulder. "You ready for the trip that will save you from the devil's temptation?" "Go fuck yourself." Yeah that's right, I just told a priest to go fuck himself. Aren't I a child of god? He looked at me with anger and pushed me toward his old person scented wagon mobile. After talking to my parents, and after I got everything into the car, he got in and we got started with "The trip to save me from the devil". A few hours into scilence and christian rock music we arived at some camp looking get up. Tons of other kids were there. "Okay everyone, when your name is called please group up and head to your assigned cabin." what I assumed was the camp leader started calling names in alphavetical order. "Holland Park, Jason Rameriez, Mark Stone-" hey look that's me" and Elliot Sanchez. You guys are in cabin 2"
Oh fuck.
© smolman
I had recently just broke up with my boyfriend, Elliot. Since we are both in the closet it didn't really work out. That didn't stop me from getting depressed after the whole thing. I wouldn't go out of my room for any other reason than food, school, and the bathroom. After a few weeks my parents noticed and called me downstairs for a talk. I begrudingly sat on the light coloured sofa across from them. "Hey sweetheart, we've noticed you're a little down lately. Is something wrong?" my mother said, wearing the cross necklace she had for years now. Both my mum and dad were super religious, so I can't really say 'Oh yeah my boyfriend and I broke up' without getting baptised in my kitchen sink. "Mark, you know you can tell us anything." "Not really dad.." I mumbled under my breath. "Markie honey, what could be so bad that you can't tell us?" I was starting to get really pissed, getting interogated in my own house. "A lot of things, actually." my voice slightly raised. My dad clenched his fists and stood up "That is not how you talk to your mother, you hear me?!" "No, I can't hear you over how bigoted you are." We both started yelling. After a while of this I did the thing I regret most. "ME AND MY BOYFRIEND BROKE UP OKAY???? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED??" The room went silent, and became tense. "Go to your room" That was the last normal thing I heard from my mother for a long time. I stomped up the stairs and slammed my door. I was crying, I'm dead, I'm not yet but I'm gonna die. There was crying and yelling downstairs. My phone was dead so I couldn't call my best friend, it's not like I could leave the house either. The yelling stopped and all there I could hear was frantic talking. I ended up falling asleep soon after. When morning came my eyes were swollen and heavy. "Fuck me." It was Saturday, which means I have to spend a whole ass weekend with the demons I called family. "Mark, get down here!" I heard the muffled voice of my father beckon me downstairs. I slowly rose out of my bed and went to the voices calling me. "Sit" the man ordered me. I stayed standing. "Listen Mark, we called a good friend of ours and he said he could make room for you." the lady said trying not that hard to sound sweet. "Oh good, I'm being kicked out." "Let your mother finish." the man said. I glared, I really can't give two shits about anything right now. The lady mustered up the words to tell me the thing I feared most at that moment.
"We're sending you to conversion therapy camp. We don't agree with the life style you've chosen. It's a sin Mark! It's written in the bible. And not to mention completley unnatural."
Before I knew it my bags were packed and outside my childhood home. There a car pulled into the street and a man opened it's door. It was the mother fucking priest. "Morning Mr. Stone." He said and patted my shoulder. "You ready for the trip that will save you from the devil's temptation?" "Go fuck yourself." Yeah that's right, I just told a priest to go fuck himself. Aren't I a child of god? He looked at me with anger and pushed me toward his old person scented wagon mobile. After talking to my parents, and after I got everything into the car, he got in and we got started with "The trip to save me from the devil". A few hours into scilence and christian rock music we arived at some camp looking get up. Tons of other kids were there. "Okay everyone, when your name is called please group up and head to your assigned cabin." what I assumed was the camp leader started calling names in alphavetical order. "Holland Park, Jason Rameriez, Mark Stone-" hey look that's me" and Elliot Sanchez. You guys are in cabin 2"
Oh fuck.
© smolman
