HTBMHIT || {A creek fanfiction}

Timeline bump³: Jule's coded.

"I wanna be as beautiful as the ocean, because the ocean's strong as fuck, and feminine as fuck; and it both what makes the ocean, ocean. - Sometimes, I pray to the ocean."
- ☆Jules Vaughn, Euphoria. (2021)

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How can a child with such big hopes turn into somewhat a person who's someone that can be seem "scary" or intimidating to the child he once was? I ask to myself the same question, looking at the mirror as I prepare myself to face my therapist once again; looking non progressive like always.

I was a child. A child who used to view the world with colors and vividness. I still believe that what once was I was, is still inside of me, aching to be someone again.

Back when Blue means the sky to me, Red means roses instead of sex club lights; when Yellow often associates with the sun and flowers to me rather than puke of desperation and tablet pills. The color white isn't for drugs, instead its for bliss and dandelions I used to pluck and blow whenever I see one growing on the side walks.

I was a child. It hurts to demotion it as "was."
Because I never grew up, instead, I experienced. - Eventually, I gave in to the world of capitalism where life is meant to be serving the hungry rich people, in order to save your starving poor soul from desperation.
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I got off from the bus station and went straight to my appointment, which is a 6min away walk from the station.

"What are you feeling right now?" Asked the counselor, as she takes out a paper and a hard surface underneath it; ready to list down all the things I'm about to say. It took me awhile to respond nor think on what to say which disappoints me, because I really do wanna tell them all of it, but I can't seem to nudge it out the way I did when I'm talking to myself; alone.

"I'm sorry, I don't know where to start." I uttered. "No pressure, dear, take you're time."

So I took my time and looked from afar from the room I'm in as I try to pin point something, something that I have been longing to blurt out. An agony that has rotten inside me that hurts me that most; its indescribable.

My self counseling session was facing the ocean shore; and I can see the white silver lining grow near as they walk through the endeavour dept of the aegean blue brine. As I hynotized my self by the looks of it and I felt so blue as well; and all of sudden, I'm a quiet child, being repayed by silent treatment after I show them what's supposed to be some best parts of me. Sometimes, the thought of it makes me float but as the burden starts to prick in, I felt like falling into a deep interrogation of desperation and loneliness. But the thing is, I'm used to being alone. However, sometimes it weighs heavy on me,

and forsakenly,  I'm one of those children of a yelling marriage. So I don't understand the silence that comes by with it.

"How come?" I asked. "How come, what?"

"How come I feel everything, then nothing all at once? I hate it so much. I look functionable but at the same time my system's failing. It's so hard too, because people think I'm just, different."

"Why so? What makes you think people view you in that position?"

"Because." I sighed and sighed again, turning into deep breaths, turning into a cold flush lump on my throat, and turning into me, trying to held my tears by hand.

I sterned my voice again, trying to take in the situation as I speak. "Because people will never be bothered enough to know what's happening through you, unless they already see a huge major impact on it. Not all people are bookworms, yet, we are all built like books. Isn't that ironic?"

"No one ever has tried to read me, not a single person. - And I felt so homesick by that idea at my own household when I'm supposed to be at home as I felt such things."

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I grew up in a house hold where feeling are invalid and conservatory is mandatory.

I was 7, laying on my grandma's lap, facing to the ocean as she strokes and brushes my hair on the front porch of her house. The waves crashing through the surface, felt like an unchained  melody; the hot air paired with the cold breeze rushing through the spaces of my hair strands felt like heaven sent. I couldn't ask for more, I could easily fall asleep if I wanted to' but I was too busy daydreaming about the ocean.

"I wanna be as beautiful as the ocean." says me.

"Beautiful? But you're a boy sweetheart, and boys are only meant to be handsome." My grandma replied sternly as she squishes my right cheek.

"But the ocean isn't handsome, it's divine and beautiful.... and charismatic.."

I gave up talking and fell short into silence and my thoughts conquered me.

I wanna be divine, I wanna be filled with rage and anger that creates such beautiful crashing, to prove that I never had cease. I wanna be filled with mystery that leaves people in misery; and wonders that makes them wanna strive so much more about the depths I never knew I have.

I want people to care. They care so much about me because I'm inevitable. My Beauty is inevitable because I am like the ocean.

The ocean I knew is also once like a child full of big dreams, like me; but is now contented for she is already the muse of the stars and the moon, the mother of homes and the homes of the mothers.

I can't help but daydream more about the ocean. - The motherly comfort it brings; feels like I'm being held as a child for the first time. I'm safe. And its breeze symbolizes like a blanket to me as it wraps around my whole body, making sure I was assured.

I tried to catch a one more single thought when my short silence was interrupted by my grandma.

"Silly, what next? You want to have a boyfriend?" My grandma chuckled.

"Yeah. Probably, I really wanna love a boy the way I loved the ocean." I told her innocently.

She stopped brushing my hair and her sweet face all of a sudden turns sour.

" You know, if you kept reading those books you're uncle gave you, you're gonna turn into a white liberal who sleeps with men and who keeps fighting nothing but for their rights. You're a man, its what's under you're pants; use the gift of the numen. In that way, you can be more "Beautiful"." She added to mock me.

I got up and stared at her "You don't understand grandma. Look, I really tried, but I-"
"Oh yes hunny, I do, I just see that you're just confused, probably because of the fictious beliefs those books gave you and your just a child after all. Now if you excuse me, I have some folding to do." She gave me a kiss on my forehead as she stood up and walks away. "But even so, I "love"  you." she added as she enters the front porch door; leaving me alone and cold in the blue.

I sat there in silence. Maybe she was right, after all, I'm just a kid.