mistakes ;; phan

two

"Mom! Have you finished ironing my skirt?" Dan yelled to his mother downstairs.

"Yes! Come down here!" She yelled back.

Dan's feet pattered down the stairs as he ran to his mothers room.

"Okay, okay, give me it," he panted, out of breath from running down the steps.

"Daniel James Howell, where are your manners?"

He rolled his eyes, then sighed, "..please."

"That's better," his mom joked.

She handed over the pleated pastel pink skirt to her son, used to this. It happened every day, if not, every other day.

She had learned to except it. When he was younger, she would somehow always find him in the girls section when they went clothes shopping together. He always had an interest in makeup and only had female friends.

She thought it was adorable, an endearing quality.

His father, on the other hand, was not so accepting. He would never verbally or physically show it, only he would give his son dirty looks and would never speak to him.

One night, though, he finally burst.

"Linda, you're just okay with this?! He is a boy, my son! I thought that when we had him, I could take him places, teach him the ways of the world, but no, I'm stuck with some gay freak that wears dresses and makeup!" His father screamed at no one in specific.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Little Dan, oh poor little Dan, asked his enraged father, tugging at his shirt sleeve. Although his father never acknowledged him, Dan still loved him. He was his dad, of course he had to love him.

That's how it's supposed to work.

"Get off me, you dirty faggot." You could feel the sting of venom in that one sentence.

Dan didn't know what that meant, but by the tone of his fathers voice, he could tell it was something bad, and it was directed towards him.

He instantly let go, running up the steps to his room, crawling under his bed sheets, shaking.

The moonlight shown through the gaps in the curtains. The light reflected off the chipping paint of the mobile Dan's father made before he was born. Before he became a "faggot".. whatever that means.

"Hey Danny..?" A small whisper broke the silence of the bedroom.

Dan slowly lowered his bed sheets, peeking over to the other bed on the other side of the room that was also visible in the darkness by the moonlight .

"Yeah, Adrian?" Dan's shaking voice replied.

"Can I sleep with you tonight..?"

"Uh.. sure.."

Dan pulled the sheets over to the side, allowing space for his little brother to slide in.

The smaller of the two hopped out of his own bed and quickly tip-toed to the others and snuggled up close to his older brother, his role model, his favorite person in the world.

Dan stroked his little brothers hair and whispered calming things to him, listening to the little sobs. Dan was never a big crier. No matter how delicate and feminine he seemed, his eyes were dry about eighty percent of the time. Not even when their family dog died; he'd never shed a single tear.