When Freedom Calls

I

Introduction
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Hey there. The name's Max. My story isn't exactly the most tear inducing, or inspiring, or horrifying, or even the most interesting of stories. It is worth telling, though. At least, I hope it is...

It all started with my mother's illness. After I was born, my mom found out that she had cancer. I was 1 when she had undergone her first treatment. At first we all thought that we would be able to get through her rounds of chemo and be done with this. After about a year and a half of it she was in remission for 5 years, then the doctors let us know how serious it really was.

At 7 years old I was already living with my abusive, alcohol infected, conservative uncle named Samuel. My mom and dad decided that the best way to help us out financially would be to move in with Sam, but if they cared at all about their son's mental health, they should've at least thought twice about it.

My mom only got worse.
My dad started working full time, but when he wasn't taking me everywhere or going to work he was shooting heroin through his veins.
My uncle became more alcoholic and conservative.

I became quieter, more intelligent, and also, gayer than Marvin. (Heh, get it? Marvin Gaye?) Also, it turns out that me being a homosexual probably would not help strengthen my relationship with my homophobic Uncle Sam.

Recently, the only people I can trust are my dad, sometimes my mom on one of her good days, and my best friend Stacy. (She's gay too so that works out well.) I've already told my dad about my ultra gayness, but I'm probably never going to tell Sam. That would be the worst thing that I could possibly do ever. With a capital E. Anyways, they say it's darkest before the dawn, well my dawn better be Betelgeuse instead of our tiny ass sun because I've been waiting for a dawn for a very long time.

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My day started off torturously slow. The night before, I was a wreck. Fed up with my uncle and stressed out because of my parents, I shut my self in my room and booted up my laptop.

"Why the fuck is this thing so slow!" I shoved it to the side and sat on my bedroom floor. The house smelled strongly of bud-light and tobacco. Laying down on my old itchy carpet, i remembered that I had homework that night. I sat up quickly and fished through my bag for my Calculus book and folder. My laptop dinged, so I brought it down to the floor with me and I began to video chat my friend Stacy while doing my Math.

"Hey Max, what's going on?"
"Just doing math to stop myself from either crying myself to sleep or punching something. Specifically the bag of dung that is my "Uncle".
"Ooooooh, Hon you're gonna need a stress reliever."
"Yeah. Tell me about it," I blinked back an angry tear (yes, I cry when I'm angry sometimes, whatever).
"OH! Good news!!" She yelled so loud that it made me flinch.
"Ahhhhh, shit, what?"
"I met someone, and they have a brother."
Suddenly I became intrigued.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I wiggles my eyebrows, no longer feeling as upset with the world.
"If you think I'm saying 'Double Date,' then FUCK YEAH!"
"FUCK YEAH!"

"HEY! KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE! I'M TRYING TO WATCH THE GAME, SHITHEAD!"

Grimacing, I quietly mocked him while I finished my equations.
"Done."
"Damn. 6 minutes for 20 questions, you delayed, man!"
"Well my excuse, Ms. Stacy, is that I have way too much shit going on in my brain to concentrate as hard."
"Language!" Stacy faked her astonishment to mimic the teachers at school.
"Yeah, yeah whatever, tell me about these people you've met."
"Tell you what?"
"Everything!"
"More specific, please?"
"Fine. What's their names?"
"Well, the girl is named Gwen..."
"And....the guy?"
"Oh him? Are you sure you want to know? Or are you just asking to make me feel better about myself?"
"Tell me!" I whined.
"Fine. His name is..."

To be continued...