I like you, for you.

Chapter 10: Alarming Call

  
  
  Home? Is that what I'm calling it? This grimy old house where just one person I don't want to see is. It would be the end of me. My field of vision is drawn to the ground as I approach the cold door; it was bound to happen. I was expecting it. I had to leave Vance no matter how long I stayed. My stomach turned sick from the sinking feeling in my heart. I keep repeating the same line in my head..

                        ' Just take it Bruce.'

     "Mom?" Out of fear of what she might say, I call out to her, even though she is struggling to find the words. When I bite my lip to keep the overwhelming worries from flowing through my mind, it burns in pain. What happened to my consciousness? I needed to get a hold of myself. If she saw me crying...

     My palms crease as I clench them once more. No. I won't. My mother's words would be more painful than my own self-destructive thoughts.

  
    After I kept calling out for my mother, there was no response. As I walked closer, leaning against the living room wall, I was surrounded by still air.

     My mother sat there, her hair messy and low-hanging. Quite the opposite of her usual neat appearance. Her stare lingers on me for a split second before returning to her hands, which are now neatly folded in her lap. Mother wore the same close as before, but her black sharp heels were positioned by the chair away from her. Not even daring to return my gaze.

  
   Her own child? This was unfair. She was acting as if I had chosen to be this way, as if I enjoyed having to hide from her. In anger and frustration, my head pounds slightly and my brows furrow deeply.

  
   I walked past her to the stairs, ignoring her sobs.

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"Bruce." The voice behind me cracks as I squeeze the handle on my bedroom door. I instantly recognized the quiet voice's tone.

My brother.

We weren't always this way. Me and him used to be nearly equal. It's really heartbreaking, because I remember being able to tell him everything that I couldn't tell our mother. I even taught him how to play baseball. Like how many people do... we drifted apart over time. However, it was most likely my fault. I became preoccupied with my sports and hobbies, leaving my brother alone. In a way, I abandoned him. Just like everyone else did to me.

"Where were you?" He asked.

I didn't respond with anything. Guilt washed over me as I turned around to face him. My brother, much to my surprise, locked eyes with me.

"I don't care who you were with. Please don't do that again, Vance or not. You scared me." As Jamey gets closer, his small footsteps creak against the floor. I noticed that he had been crying.

I could see his emotionless red face and droopy eyelids. I didn't mean to hurt him. Never.

"I'm sorry." I mumble faintly.

My brother hugged me tightly before I could even react. I didn't even try to fight it. His arms clung to me as if I were about to try to escape.

"Jamey?" My lips parted in surprise at the embrace. We weren't the type to hug each other, let alone act as if we cared about each other.

"I'm sorry too." His apology cracked me in too many pieces.

All I ever wanted was for someone to accept me for who I was, not try to fix me. But seeing my brother wasn't scared of me.. may have broke me even more.

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Today I spent hours in my bed. Simply wasting time. Even though practice wasn't until tomorrow, I should have gotten up. The only thing that kept me going was thinking about Vance, and every replay of our interactions kept my heart racing. I was concerned that I was relying too heavily on him. I don't want him to run away in terror if he finds out how much I... love him.

As I shifted in my bed, my gaze wandered around my room, haunted by the photos on the walls. One of them caught my attention, the one with me, mom, Jamey, and dad that is slightly slanted.

                   

                         I'm disgusting, aren't I?

                             I'm the mistake.

All of the people in the lifeless photograph had faded into past memories. Nothing else. My mother's bright smile had faded as her hand wrapped around my father's arm. In the middle of the photo, my brother is laughing on my back after I won my division title. Father's now-blurred face looks forward approvingly of me.

"Please forgive me." My hands are clenched. They were obligated to better. I should be better. What they always needed was a man who could fulfill their dream. But I just can't. I'm nothing but a boy. I'm worthless in this horrible circumstance. Everything inside of me is only a hallow deep part of what I should be: a good son.

All I wanted was to be in Vance's arms again. When I was with him, the feeling of emptiness that had been eating me alive vanished. He made me feel as if everything was fine. That I wasn't mistaken about who I am. And I never will be.

Instead, I smile lightly as I recall his smile. Vance has been the only thing keeping me sane the last few days. I recited what he said when he asked ME to be HIS. Do y-

"We need to talk, Bruce." My body jerks in surprise as I slowly turn to see my mother standing by the doorway, which I had forgotten to close.

"What exactly do you want?" I ask, my gaze averted from her.

I don't despise my mother. I never will. I kinda understand why she is acting the way she is, I won't be enough. Ever. That is something I have accepted. I will never be enough, no matter how many times I hit the ball, no matter how many times I remember my manners, no matter how many times I clean around. So, why would I accept her?

"It's important." I immediately scoff at her remark.

"Yeah. What's the big deal? Leave me alone." I presume in keeping a rude tone with her. She doesn't deserve my respect, because that's the last thing she can do for me.

"I receive... a phone call." As she approached my bed, her voice became much softer. A call? What call? As mom sat beside me again, ignoring complete eye contact, the matter sank deeply next to me.

I become tense throughout my entire shaken body. My arms' hair stands on end as my eyes widen. The realization hits me harder now that I'm looking at her from the side of her face, which is filled with guilt.

Vance.

"Mom, what happened?"

"What happened?" My breath quickens as I ask again, and I feel her hand quickly grasp mine.

"Bruce."

"WHAT HAPPENED?"