A Little Bit of Hope (Boyxboy)

Part 7

Not every home is happy. Sometimes, you can't even call it a home. A home is suppose to be a positive word, a word of comfort. You would think, anyway. Not for Dylan, that was definitely not for Dylan. He was judge harder than he was outside of his house.

Being the only child, all the attention is put on you. You could be a spoiled brat, or you could be a discipline, kind child. Or you could be a fan girl or boy, reading FanFiction's in the middle of the night. Dylan was neither of those things. He was just, Dylan. He loved himself, how he made himself feel. He didn't care if people didn't like his outfit, or if he was a boy wearing a skirt.

It never bothered him, it only seemed to bother others. Especially his dad and stepmom. He had grown to dislike his dad. He loved his father, he would always love his father. Through ups and downs, he would always be there for him. However, that didn't necessarily mean he had to like him.

His dad didn't approve of Dylan's choice of style. At first, he thought it was just a "phase" he was going through when he was 13. As Dylan got older, he realized that Dylan was staying like he is, and was very disrespectful and isolated around him. After his mom died, his father broke, feeling like he couldn't live without someone to love. As if Dylan wasn't enough.

So, he got remarried. This is when Dylan found out that his dad had the WORST taste in women, other than his mom, of course.  This women, Heather, was her name, had to be the most judgmental person on earth. She thought that colors, clothes, and anything like that, had a gender. So when she first saw Dylan, who wore a black high waisted skirt and purple shirt, she immediately didn't like him.

So that's why this scene was going on right here: Dylan just walked through the house, and he is very late getting home. This is not a normal thing for him, so he thinks they would let it slide. He was wrong.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN DYLAN?!" Was the first thing he heard when he walked through the door. He mentally groaned, trying to keep his breathing steady. "ANSWER ME!" His dad looked pissed, his face so red, a tomato would be jealous.

Dylan set down his backpack, turning to face his dad. "I was just out with a friend dad..." That just made his dad way more pissed than he already was. "I CALLED YOU 17 TIMES!" Dylan's eyes widened, and he quickly pulled out his phone, in fact, seeing 17 miss calls from his dad. "Oh... I'm sorry dad, I lost track of time..."

"I knew letting you do this would be bad..." His dad shook his head, glaring down at Dylan. "What? Do what?" Dylan looked at his dad with confusion, fiddling with his fingers. "Like that! Like a girl! Wearing dresses and skirts all the time, liking purple and being all girly! It's disgusting!" His dad glared harder, his hands curling into fists.

Dylan took a step back, tears brimming his eyes. He saw someone else walk in at the corner of his eye, and looked over to see his stepmom walk in. She had that smirk on her face, the one he just wanted to slap off her face. He turned back to face his dad, looking him the eye. "D-dad... I w-was just-"

"Yeah,  you were out with friends! You're a liar! I know you were out there somewhere, having sex like a whore!" Tears spilled from Dylan's eyes, looking at his dad in shock. He had never done anything like that in his life! It hurt that his dad thought he did... "D-Dad I w-would n-never do something l-like that..."

His dad scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah right." Dylan had enough from there. He grabbed his book bag, clutched his phone in his hand, and ran upstairs to his bed. Tears made their way down his face, running some of his makeup. He knew his stepmom was having a blast, seeing him cry and run away. He just wanted to strangle her sometime...

Getting into his bed room, he closed and locked the door, then laid on his bed. He sobbed into the covers, burying himself under his blankets. How did his dad get so judgement, so mean and verbally abusive towards him? He didn't understand. He always had good grades, was never late, unlike this time. Always helped around the house, never talked back to his dad, and yet, here he was. Crying into his blanket, his heart broken from the words his dad said to him.

He willed himself to get up out bed, wiping his eyes to get rid of the tears. He half-heartedly got dressed in his pajamas, and wiped off his makeup. He then fell into a dreamless sleep, the last person thinking about being Jacob.