TW: self harm, abuse, suicidal thoughts, gun violence, homophobia, religious trauma, swearing
After concluding that their son was nothing more than a disappointment, Butters parents decided to ground him for the whole summer. They cut him off from a...
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Summer's here...
School is out and everyone is making the most of it. Going out for ice cream, visiting water parks, camping. I've seen classmates biking up and down my street a few times as they go around town. And just last week I overheard from my window that Clyde had found a "secret" treehouse deep in the woods for him and his friends.
It all sounds like so much fun. I wish I could say I was having fun. But I'm not. I'm stuck in my own home for the whole summer, all because my parents found out about my "secrets" a few weeks back.
It happened during dinner after I came home from Bebe's. She's one of my best friends, along with Kenny and Tweek. I sat at the table, my mom came out with the food, then my Dad came in and they both had a seat. They froze when they met eyes with me. At first, they did nothing but stare.
"What is it?" I had asked looking between them. My Father looked pissed. My mother, mortified. Did I have something on my face? I felt it with my hand and pulled it away expecting to see blood given their reaction. What I found was much worse. Makeup. I had asked Bebe to "make me beautiful" and completely forgot to take it off before going home. My heart skipped a beat. I knew how they felt about me wearing makeup. It was probably one of the worst things I could do to them next to drugs and premarital sex. Yeah, they're that insane.
"I thought we told you not to act like a fucking fairy!" My Dad spoke in a low voice. I didn't look away from the smudged lipstick across my fingers or the blush that shimmered in the light on my hand. If I looked at him, I was afraid I'd start crying. "Have you done this before?!" He questioned. I flinched when his voice got louder. "Is this what you're doing at your little friend's house?! What else are you hiding?!"
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat with no success. Panic ran through my entire body until I was shaking. "I... I'm not-" I hesitated. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't bring myself to speak.
"ANSWER ME!" His fist banged against the table and I jumped in my seat. I glanced up at my Mother, even though I knew she wasn't going to help. She just stared blankly at her wine glass. She's gotten really good at ignoring her surroundings when our family's "imperfections" seeped through the cracks. I don't blame her. She has a freak of a son and an alcoholic husband who shouts and beats him.
I felt a hand grab me by the arm and drag me away from the table. He took me up to my room and threw me onto the floor. He then proceeded to trash my entire bedroom looking for anything that had a "bad influence" on me. He ripped the sheets off my bed, then the mattress off its frame. He took out all my dresser drawers and flipped them upside down dumping all my clothes on the floor. He knocked everything off my bookshelf. He grabbed my favorite snow globe and threw it behind him. It flew just over my head and shattered against the wall behind me. I felt like a deer in headlights. I didn't dare move from my spot even once.
After trashing my desk, he finally moved to my closet. I felt a chill go down my spine. That's when he found my hidden box of clothes shoved in the way back. In there I had things like my soft pink bunny hoodie, knee-high socks, some "Kawaii" graphic T's, and a skirt.
