Harsh Canadians Winters

Intermède (1)

CW: Child abuse/neglect, emotional abuse (mentionned briefly), period-typical internalized homophobia (one sentence, you probs won't even see it)

Hate. He felt hate, resentment, terrible hate for the canadian government. Turmoil and pain filled his very being as he stared at the woman that had announced his leave. He was ejected from the army, after months of training. Simply because the witch that had assessed his mental stability had deemed him dangerous. Because she deemed his relationship with his Ma "strange".

The shrink said he was unstable, not fit for driving a plane. Might as well call him crazy, little lady, if we're not gonna use the big words, might as well leave him on the team, who was crazy, huh? Not him. He had always been completely okay. She mentioned his childhood, and he described as it was, a shitshow starring him and his brother, Ryan.

Rage. Shameful rage for everything surrounding him. He had done his best, had been accepted for his extraordinary grades in mathematics, but was rejected for "explosive tendencies" and "danger to himself and others". Wasn't that the point of war!? To hurt others and yourself in the process.

He would never forgive canadians for what they had done to him. Years after years after years, he reached for that one goal, only for it to be thrown back in his face, rejected on the assessment of a mentally unstable fucking bitch.

He now had to shamefully walk back to his old residence. Ask for forgiveness, beg for a roof over his head. His Ma would never forgive him, his dad never wanted him.

He felt guilty. He felt devastated. But all of that was hidden under the screaming rage that was rapidly coursing through his body. He walked out of the building, scraps, and bundles of clothes in hand. If only he had at least been allowed to hit something,,, or someone.

Pa had always been an asshole. He would favor Ryan over him, simply because Ryan resembled him just a little bit more. Ryan was never as hurt or as beaten as Trevor. It was unfair. So when Pa had come to him with a proposition, one he would only ever present to Ryan, Trevor was ecstatic. He accepted easily, hoping this would lead to a good relationship between them, his father would shower him with as much love his mother did. Meaning that he would teach him lessons, how to be better. How to stop being useless. A burden. Trevor couldn't wait to better himself. He couldn't wait.
Pa brought the car around. He wouldn't tell Trevor where they were going, the silence staying throughout the hour-long drive.

The air was thick, the silence too loud. The car was going too fast, the trees around them melting together to create one giant green painting. As the time passed, Trevor looked outside the window, entertaining himself with a stickman flipping and running around them. Eventually though, he closed his eyes, wishing to be back with Ma, she would give him a hug all sharp and nails, and smile at him.

The car slowed to a stop.

A shopping mall.

The same one that was a fifteen minutes walk away from their house. Except this one wasn't fifteen minutes away. It was over an hour.

Pa turned around, staring at him with his piercing black eyes.

He left the car, opening Trevor's door. Usually he would have never waited for Trevor, he would have already left, with little care if Trevor followed or not. Whilst Trevor wasn't complaining about the sudden change, he couldn't figure out why something had changed.

Trevor quickly jumped out of the car, following his father inside the closed doors. The lights were blinding and the sound disorienting.

Trevor remembered waiting for hours for Ryan and Pa to come back from their trip, asking Ma why he was never allowed to go with them. She would always answer the same thing, "They don't want to spend time with you," and then she would crouch, holding his head in place to force him to look in her eyes, "but I do".

Trevor stayed close to Pa as he wandered in an out of shops, his father always wore blue jeans with a black shirt. After a while, Trevor stopped looking at the clothes and toys littering every surface he laid his eyes on. He turned to his Pa, a burning question a the tip of his tongue. He tugged on the shirt, but the person who looked back at him was a stranger. He didn't have Pa's black eyes, his crooked teeth or the scar jaggered across his chin, destroying his perfect short beard.

In panic he looked around, hoping to catch sight of the one person he knew. But the crowd was bigger, and the laughs louder.

Trevor ran.

Trevor had stayed outside of the shopping mall until it closed. His shivering body tightly forming a ball as he sat on the ice-cold asphalt. He had been forced to walk back home for two days as he had to take breaks to prevent his tiny legs from breaking.

He had opened his home's door silently.

His Pa hadn't apologized or even acknowledged his return.

Thomas hadn't even told him goodbye. Hadn't even allowed Trevor to hold his hand in secret one last time. He had said that it was "trop risqué", too dangerous. That they should've stayed normal.

Trevor had held in the anger, he had walked out with his head held high, he would never stoop so low as to cry over someone that insignificant.

He had been able to get a ticket out of there, hopped on a truck until it stopped a few hours later. He had asked a driver for a lift to wherever he had planned on going. He moved around until he found a place good enough to entertain him for a while.

Eventually, he would get bored, the strippers, the drugs, it didn't feel the same. He would hop on another truck and start over. He didn't even have a U.S.A. citizenship; how would the cops be able to stop him?

At some point, he found a safe haven in North Yankton, the gas smelled different, the drugs sharper, the strippers lovelier, even started killing some foxes, deers... for once, the adrenaline and dopamine rush it gave him was driving him crazy, in a good way.