So you think you're bold huh?

Nauseous

A/N: HEY! This is going to be a pretty heavy chapter with triggering scenes, so I just wanted to warn ya'll! There's some bad homophobia and shouting from parents, so please be aware of that before deciding to read this chapter or not! I love you guys so so much, stay safe my friends<3 

TW: Homophobia, parental abuse.

George's POV:

Dream stayed the night with me, then had to go home the next day. Thankfully, it was the weekend so I didn't have to go back to school. The worst part about this all is that Wilbur and I aren't talking. I miss him like crazy, but I also hate his guts. Drista came over yesterday and we screamed One Direction songs like "Tell Me A Lie" and "Drag Me Down."

I hadn't heard from my parents all day, but I also knew they were coming home in a few weeks, so at least I had the house to myself for a little longer before they get home. It's not like they'll be here for long when they do come home, but still, it's nice to know that they're across the world and out of my hair. 

I yawned and got up to brush my teeth. The bright bathroom light stung my eyes for a second, and my head felt light-headed from crying so much yesterday. All I could think of right now is, 'you're disgusting.' Somehow when it was just something a few other queer kids and I knew about, it didn't make me feel like a piece of trash. But now that everyone knows, I can't help but look at myself and see something gross and worthless. I don't even know why. When I look at Dream or Niki, I don't see someone gross at all. I see someone beautiful, with a beautiful heart. But when it's me...it's different, I guess. I'm not fair to myself, that's what Dream always tells me.

Sometimes I wish I could have the indifference that a jellyfish has. But using who we are to shine a light on ourselves is important. Dream said that if I don't stop and look at myself the way the mirror sees me, then I'll never be able to think of myself in a good way. I wish I could see what the mirror sees, just a body with some pieces of fabric draped on top of it and a head of nice dark hair. I never knew what that meant until recently. If you don't see yourself as just a body, then you'll never understand the beauty of what fills our inside. Then, once you can see past how you look and right into your soul, you can bring that person into your reflection. Soon enough, the mirror will start to understand who you are from how it sees you. 'Expressive judgment!' He calls it. 'Only judge yourself after painting your soul on your body, I think you'll find there's not much to really dislike.' I smiled to myself. It's crazy how much this guy changed me. 

No. He didn't change me. 

He helped rip away the parts of me I made up in my head. 

I spat the toothpaste out of my mouth and cupped water into my hand to wash out the foamy residue still lingering in my mouth. I swished mouthwash between my cheeks while picking out something comfortable to wear, then hurried back to the bathroom and spat the blue liquid down the drain. God, I love that color. It's like acid, so strong and vibrant. You're meant to avoid it, but how can you resist its captivating glow. I smiled again and wiped my mouth with a towel, then left the bathroom to get changed. 

By the time I was done in my room, I started feeling nauseous and hungry, so I headed down in search of something to eat.

I stopped in the middle of the staircase when I saw my parents arguing at the bottom of the stairs. "Mom?? Dad??" I said in shock. I learned to never interrupt them, but I was really shocked it kind of just slipped out. "I thought you were meant to come home in two weeks," I started and continued down the stairs. "George, we got an email from one of your teachers. They were concerned about you because of a rumor and a photograph spreading around school." I felt that horrible suffocating feeling come right back to my chest. I'd almost shaken that feeling too, but now it was back and Dream really won't come to my rescue this time. 

I swallowed hard, feeling like a rock was going down my throat. "I-It's not true!" I shouted out of instinct, not sure what else to say. "DAMN IT GEORGE! DON'T LIE TO ME! I SAW THAT PHOTO OF YOU AND THAT...BOY!" My dad shouted and pushed my mom back. I flinched and glared down at the thread coming off the tip of my sock. He looked so disgusted I swear I felt a crack in my chest, like a bone snapping, but right from my heart. "D-Dad..." I mumbled. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" He shouted back. "DAD! Just let me introduce you to him! H-He's nice, and smart, and a good guy-" My mom was crying into her hand and looking off to the side. 

I wondered if she felt bad for me, or if she's so appalled by who her son turned out to be that it sent her to tears. I honestly couldn't tell. What I did know though, is that my dad won't shed a single tear over this. He slapped me right across the face, leaving a stinging mark on my skin that even felt red. I couldn't even cry right now, but I knew the tears were piling up in my chest, aching to be let out. I won't let him see me cry. Not over this. "John!" My mom shouted, but he didn't care. "I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I covered my mouth and stared up at him. My mom froze in horror while my dad glared right down at me. "Pack your bags. If you arent gone in an hour I won't hesitate to throw you out." He said harshly, his voice deep and raspy. 

I couldn't even say another word before bolting back up the stairs, leaving all my strength and dignity at the bottom of the stairs with my broken mother and my enraged father. "Bye..." I mumbled under my breath while walking down the hallway and away from them. The door slammed hard, and I knew they were gone.

IMPORTANT A/N: If this is happening to you, or you're experiencing something similar, you can always message me if you need a stranger to talk to. Sometimes it feels good when a blind mind looks at you with no judgment. And I'm happy to help because you all mean the world to me.*