No Academy (boyxboy)

Chapter. 16

"You just don't apply yourself!" The voice was strained upon utterance. Arguments previous drawn thin and frayed, leavening in its place only room for snappy remarks and disdain, "I mean, you are so smart if you only just tried!"

He simply picked at the dirt under his nails. Was he upset at the implication? Sure, but it was pointless showing such. This conversation had played out time and time again. Every student teacher meeting, every report season, every exam result. He was trying though, he always tried if only to mitigate the conflict at home. If he could muster up that one mark, that one score that could put this whole thing to rest he would. By, god he would. Still, nothing. It didn't matter how many hours were spent isolated in that little corner, hunched over his books and notes to the point of pain. 

"Markus are you even listening!" His aunt yelled, she was standing by the kitchen stove. One hand firmly pressed against the counter and the other gripping a towel so hard her knuckles had whitened.

Markus peaked up at her, "I am trying." The words felt meaningless leaving his mouth. He had said this so many times the last couple of years, it had become redundant.

She walked over to him, getting into his face, "Are you? Are you really?" Her voice was rising now, she was getting red in the face as her brows drew into anger.

The red head stood up fast enough to send the dining chair skidding backward with a harsh screech, "Yes! Yes I fucking am!" His voice was louder now as well, "All I do is try—you see that yourself. You are so fucking unreasonable!" His chest heaved with each deep breath he took.

Now it was silent.

The small kitchen had tension permeating every inch of it now. So thick and dense, Markus could feel it heating his face.

"Go to your room, we'll talk when you want to behave your age."

He did. He went to his room, making sure to slam the door loud enough to be heard from every inch of the apartment. He sat on his bed choking back tears. When the argument started it had been light outside, now the moon hung heavy and foreboding in the sky. It casted long, dreary shadows that hung themselves from floor to wall along Markus' room. Normally the sight of moonlit caste shadows would bring him comfort and calm, but his beating heart couldn't find its familiarity. He was left to take quick, shallow breathes that threatened to swallow him whole. Markus did love his aunt, she was always there for him, always put food on the table, took him in when the rest of the family wouldn't. But her expectations were suffocating, it felt like no matter how hard he tried there was always something he could do better. He wished he could be just that bit smarter, retain just a bit more information, memorise just a few more words. Then maybe he'd earn his right to be here and he wouldn't feel like an intruder in his own home. Even his room didn't truely feel like his. The old closet that once held the many items of the former inhabitants of this room, haunted the entire space. Now, in the moonlight, it was alive—a living reminder that he didn't belong here. That he was invading this place and to anyone who knew him, practically a stranger.

He couldn't fully fortify his memory of when or why he moved in with his aunt. He just remembered a blur of bad emotions and crying spells concluding with him no longer being with his parents. He also remembers when he cut his hair short and stopped wearing the "girls clothes" he had been gifted. His aunt had donated them one night without mentioning much of it, she knew him that way. But most of the time, only she knew him. Knew Markus so well it seemed unreasonable to her that anyone couldn't. So when it got hard, and got so dark he wanted to die—she just couldn't understand. Every kid gets bullied at some point? Right? She just couldn't understand why it hit him so deep, and why he would want to ruin his life like this. Why he wouldn't just try harder and focus on school.