FAKE // NATEWANTSTOBATTLE

Im Here, Im Queer

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A groan passes my lips as I lay in my bed. I knew that in a few minutes, my mother would fling open my door and turn my light on, surrendering my eyesight to the blinding overhead light - not that my eyesight wasn't already shit. I was sixteen and needed glasses, but my mom and dad were too cheap to take me to get some. Go figure.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I groan at the sound of my shrieking alarm clock. I let out another groan of annoyance when I realized it was Monday. I roll over and bury my face in the pillows, wishing my heart would stop completely.

Maybe it would put an end to that god damn incessant beeping.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

It's Monday. THE Monday. The one day of the week everyone dreads. The day that kills off the freedom of the weekend and puts good moods in shackles, killing the only part of life I truly live for - the weekend. Long story short, Monday sucks. I think you get the picture.

Suddenly, a loud shrieking startles me awake. This time, it was alarm number two: my mom.

"Nathan!" My mother screeches.

I can hear her coming up the steps at a fast pace, feet thundering against the floor. How can such a tiny woman make that much damn noise? I mean, she's not over 135 pounds. There is surely no way she can be that loud; especially taking into consideration that my dad can walk through the house without making a sound and he's 245 pounds of pure grit. Some family dynamic isn't it?

"Nathan Smith!" She flings open my door and turns on my light. I look up from my pillows. The light forced my eyes to squeeze shut and I hissed.

"Yes, mom?" I respond.

"Get out of bed this instant." She demands. "You've got school. Its Monday." She then steps back and slams my door shut. The walls shake from the sudden impact and a picture of me tumbles from my bedside table.

Well, here goes another day in hell.

I sigh, yanking the covers off of myself. I slowly sit up and shiver at the sudden feel of cold air against warm skin. I rub my arms, trying to keep myself warm. Still, goosebumps erupt on my arms and legs.

It's days like today that I definitely dread. People have had their full weekend where they had to leave me alone, coming up with different ways to torture me and beat me. Now, I don't think everyone is out to get me - I'm not even the kind of guy to be paranoid or look over his shoulder all the time - but those who are out to get me, they let me know it. I swear, some people really sit awake at night to come up with the shit they find to make my life miserable.

For instance, Michael Clifford, hates my guts. Whenever I see the tall man with multicolored hair, I dash off into a classroom to avoid being seen by himself and Luke. Luke is a 6'4 torture machine and Michael isn't far from the same. Michael and Luke enjoy pushing me around for kicks. Why? I have no damn clue. It could be because I'm gay and because I kissed Luke's best friend (Calum Hood) while drunk at a party.

It's not my fault he'd had too much alcohol and decided he liked dick during the hour.

With a deep sigh, I brush my black hair from my face and stand. A sudden wave of dizziness hits me faster than I can comprehend and I have to step forward, leaning my hands against the wall to avoid falling. The dizziness I feel is a mix of sleep and and empty stomach. I almost want to vomit, vertigo completely taking me over.

"Nathan! Are you up?" My mother screeched. I cringed at her high pitched voice, shaking my head slightly with my sensitive ears. Great. Now on top of vertigo, I have a slight pulsing above my right eyebrow. Thanks for the headache, ma.