During November

Chapter 3 - Jordan

Chapter 3: Boys Will Be Boys

We were all once children. Children who played with fire, never afraid of being burnt. Back then we weren't afraid of the voices in our heads or the whispers on the back of our necks. We weren't afraid of the stares or the fire.

But now, while everyone plays with fire, I'm doused in gasoline. Running from the flames, dancing with the voices I once called my friends, playing with my demons, letting them roam free.

My screams are ringing out on deaf ears as my skin burns. My eyes shut so tightly that I don't know if I'll ever be able to see again. My ashes falling to the ground, just dust in the wind, and you brush that dust away. Brush it off your shoulders as you strut your way through the fire. They make a path for you.

I can't tell what causes me more pain. The searing burn of the fire scorching my skin or the love I feel for you that has settled itself in my bones, in my blood, in my heart.

I am a boy afraid of becoming a man. A boy unwilling to let go of the things, the people that keep him young and youthful. A boy with a love for someone that burns brighter than any fire. I am a boy, in love with a boy that will never love him back.

They all told me to run. Run from the fire, run from my problems and run from the thoughts that have taken residence inside of my head. I ran. For years, I ran. But my legs are too tired, my feet are aching, my body is exhausted, my lungs screaming for too much air to keep on running.

I used my last breath to send out one last scream. The only thing I got back was an echo. An echo of hope, of dreams, of wishes unfulfilled. That echo, it broke something in me. It cut the last string I was holding onto. I sent out a scream that returned an echo of giving up.

All I have left is my pain, my heartbreak and my ashes.

I'd say that I have you, but does that really count for anything anymore? You broke me. No forget that, you fucking shattered me. Go ahead and make some tired-ass excuse, but we both know that your excuses are just cover-ups to the destruction you cause.

You deal out doses of it, the pain, then you leave them, the people who trusted that you'd bring them some sort of antidote. You leave them, and you never go back to fix what you've done. And I don't think you even realise what you're doing.

What you've done.

The name Jordan Atkinson is now only a whisper in the hallways, a flicker in the flame, a chanced glance from behind the fireproof suits and the masks that turn my ashes into oxygen so that the rest of the world can breathe. I am now just a rumour. A lie that you made up that for some incredulous reason, everyone seemed to believe. I am suffocating in this world that you created for me. A world that is deprived of oxygen and overtaken by fire.

And I am waiting. Always waiting for someone, anyone, to come and save me from this land of destruction and isolation.

We are no longer children, but our childish ways never leave our grown bodies, they just evolve. We are no longer children playing with fire, but children shivering as the bitter wind pinches our cheeks, the flames now just flickers and sparks. We are no longer children who dance with the voices in our heads telling us that anything is possible. Now, we are just people cowering from the voices of others around us telling us that we can't do anything. That we should just give up because not trying at all is better than trying and failing.

I am driving along this road of nightmares and fire with no exits. And society is sitting in the passenger's seat giving me directions that I can't follow because I don't fit in with their standards. To them, I don't classify as "normal". I tried to fit in, but just like they told me I would, I failed. Just like they told me, I shouldn't have bothered trying. Just like I told them, I don't give a shit.

That's a lie. I'm so tired of the lies but there are so many of them that I have become one in myself. Even I have started to believe the rumours that are whispered in my ears. I can no longer distinguish the difference between the truths and the lies.

All I seem to be doing is picking my way through this intricate web, looking for some small remnant of happiness that doesn't exist. I'm searching for a truth that isn't true. I'm a boy, seeking reassurance that he is not what others say he is.

I didn't have a choice in my sexuality. I didn't get to choose. But you? Well, you could have at least let me have a choice in who knew about it.

***

Sorry again for such a late update. I'm going to try to update more often.

Any thoughts or feedback on this chapter? Anything I could improve on?

Thank you for reading!