Y O U T H (scomiche)

water, food, shelter, and love

a/n: double update today because I'm EAGER to publish more storiessssss

...

I tried to stay locked in my room as long as possible, texting Scott the whole time. Avoiding hunger, thirst, and bathroom cues, I stayed in one corner of my room, only moving to text Scott back paragraphs upon paragraphs.

Scott: "Are you doing okay? Please be honest."

"I don't know. I'm angry."

S: "You have every right to be, I just don't want it getting to you too badly."

"They're my parents, Scott. I don't want them not knowing, like, officially. I just don't want them deterring me forever."

S: "It's up to you, really. I think you'll be happier if you just went straight out with it, then they can really react instead of being unsure. And if they deter you, which they won't, Nel wouldn't let Mike do that and vice versa, you can stay at my place for the week, or we can leave early and get a hotel. Whatever happens, I love you." I remembered to breathe.

"Thanks. I'll BRB."

He sent back the heart emoji and I left to go to the bathroom. The big clock on the wall above the staircase read eight o'clock, and I saw my parents in the living room. I saw my mom peek at me and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard her speak to my father.

"The boy is alive."

"Good to know his bladder works." really, dad?

I walked downstairs after washing my hands and stood in front of the coffee table.

"I figure it's best you hear it from me, rather than invading my privacy-" I gave my mom the shadiest look I could conjure up.

"I'm gay. A "god-hating" homo. I, honestly, couldn't care less if you deter me as your son or if I'm going to hell, I just want to be myself." My mom looked like she had forgotten how to inhale. My dads face almost turned purple, I couldn't tell if he was more sad or disappointed.

"Son, if you're willing to accept Jesus in your heart, we can start the healing process." I turned to him and said, sharply:

"I'm an atheist."

"Not in this household!" He yelled, my mother cowering into the couch. My father stood up and pointed a finger to my face.

"Son, either you fix this now, or you won't be welcomed into this household unless you don't." My face flushed. My mom finally butted in.

"Mike, you need a minute to think about this, okay? Why don't you go into the other room."

"I certainly will not, Nel! I've done all the thinking I need to, and I will not welcome the devil in this house!" A tear dropped down my cheek. My mom had had enough and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Mitchell, why don't you go to your room while your father and I talk, alright?" My dad angrily walked around the coffee table with his hands on his bald head, angry at my mother for intervening. She whispered in my ear before I could run away.

"We love you very much, dear. It'll be okay." I was up the stairs in a matter of two seconds, wanting to listen in on the conversation but knowing I shouldn't. I didn't really need to, I'm sure Scott could hear them yelling from three neighborhoods over.

"It's not natural!"

"He's our son, Mike."

"And I still love him. He needs a loving family, do you really want to deny him that?"

"If he's not willing to get help for that sickness, then I won't have him in this house!"

"Listen to me, Mike. He is our son, and we have four duties. To give him water, food, shelter, and love. And if you're denying him those, then the least I could do is give them to him!"

"He is sick! I will not have the devil actively in this house! So he needs to get help, or get out."

"Do you really want to deny your son a father his whole life? Imagine what that would do to him."

"He's not himself!"

"Then why is he still our Mitchell? With those warm brown eyes and beautiful voice? He hasn't changed one bit and you know it!"

"Nel, you're being irrational!"

"You're not listening to me!"

"Because you're not making any sense!"

"Wow, loving my son for who he is? How nonsensical of me!"

"Are you serious right now?"

"My son could be a mass murderer, and I would still make sure he's changing his underwear and eating a good breakfast, because that's my job as a mother. So I'm going to be a mother, even if I don't understand."

"At least a mass murderer isn't partaking in sodomy!" I felt exposed and ashamed.

"Are you listening to yourself, Michael?!"

"I'm going upstairs right now and telling him to pack his bags. He needs to be gone by tomorrow morning, and I don't want to see him again until he's better!"

"YOU WILL NOT!"

"Excuse me?"

"He is staying for one more week until he is moving to Los Angeles, as planned. He will be welcome here with open arms no matter who he loves or doesn't! Even if that person is you."

"I need to take a walk!" I heard the door slam, followed by my dads car leaving the driveway. Not long after, I heard my mothers light footsteps up the stairs and down the hallway. She knocked on the door.

"It's open." I mumbled from my huddled position near my bed, with my head between my knees. She walked to me, sat next to me, put an arm around me, and planted a kiss on the side of my head.

"I know I don't really understand exactly what you are, and it's gonna take some getting used to, but I love you very much, dear. Your father does too, he just doesn't quite understand, and-"

"People are afraid of the unknown, I know, mom."

"I'm glad. I love you very much, honey." I started tearing up again and hugged her.

"Now, tell me about you and Scott."