TO THE END | Shaymien

Chapter 2

Damien was leaning his chin on the kitchen counter watching his mother wipe remnants of her baking off the bench along with the fingerprints Damien had put there. After she had finished wiping the bench, she had decided it was about time the oven pre-heated so she gripped her tray of unbaked marble cookies and slid them into the oven.

Marilyn glanced around once noticing Damiens bored state before turning her attention to the radio sitting next time him.

"Do you want to turn on some music, dear?" she said, making her way to the laundry basket that was sitting on the stool on Damien's right and lifting it up. She pressed the basket of clothing to her hip balancing it there to place her hand on Damien's shrugged shoulder.

"Not really," I mumbled, playing with the shoe laced material that tangled from my hoodie.

"What's wrong, honey?" She asked as she placed the laundry basket back down and hugged her son from behind, placing her chin on top of his head.

"I don't want to start school," he whimpered, lifting his arm to grip onto his mother's present ones. "There are people there." He continued.

"I know that new people aren't particularly something you can deal with easily, but you just turned five-years-old dear. Every person like you has to." She sincerely replied keeping her arms comfortingly embracing him.

"I hate being five," he exclaimed. He then continued saying, "kindergarten was okay I guess, but it's only because they had a sandpit."

"Trust me, at this school, there is more than one sandpit." She said enthusiastically.

Damien clicked his heels together and sighed quietly. He always knew that he wasn't like the other kids. He was too different, he felt different, always awkward around new people and no one liked that. Damien just hoped deep down that maybe one day he can befriend someone, someone who could understand.

Marilyn was a kind soul, she would try her best to understand, or 'pretend' which was good enough for him now, but soon he will be grown up and her help won't be enough. He needs someone to know what he's going through. He needs someone who can save him before everything crumbles.

He decided against replying to his mother and instead hung his head in dismay continuing to play with the strings hanging from his hoodie.

His mother then removed her arms from him, grabbed the laundry basket again and proceeded to walk out and fold them. Damien continued to sit there with an empty stomach due to forgetting breakfast. Instead of finding something to eat he decided to pass time by reading a book outside maybe or climb his backyard tree and wait for the cookies to finish baking.

Damien threw himself off the stool he was sitting at and made his way to the back door which led to his backyard. He saw the tree in view and ran up to it. He gazed up, observing whether he should climb to which branch, he then stared at the ground thinking deeply before he decided to climb his way to the mid branch that gave the perfect view of his neighbor's field.

He squinted from the sunlight shining down on his face as he tilted his head up to look at his chosen branch. He grazed his fingertips on the dry crispy bark, pushing him towards his location which left him with scratches on both arms from the twigs that were attached.

When he finally reached to the branch he plopped down on the thick bark. He glanced over the field watching the leaves around him dance in the wind and panned the green grass that spread across the view while the sun glazed over it.

He placed his hands on both sides of himself, balancing him on the branch, thinking. He hoped that he could possibly share this branch, share the view because he knew that nothing else in the world would feel as great as being himself around someone.

He leaned his head back against the tree, pressing his pink lips together. He felt a warm tear run down his smooth and pale cheek. The bead of water then rolled over his quivering bottom lip. He softly gasped with a breath, his eyes screw shut with pain.

Just a friend.