I sung along to Woman's Work as I got dressed. I have to run a few errands today. I'll see if Kingston wants to come with me.
When I was done getting dressed I turned my music off.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I was on my way to Kingston's room loud music started playing. I'm sure he won't hear me knock so I'll just go straight in.
When I made it I went straight in. I saw him sitting on his bed rocking back and forth as he cried about to cut himself.
Without thinking I ran to him and took the blade from his hand then hugged him tightly as tears formed in my eyes. He cried harder.
As I hugged him the music cut off. "What's going on?", I heard Deshawn say. Why is he home? "Why aren't you at school Kingston?" There wasn't any school today. They called. More importantly why is he worried about school when Kingston is sitting here crying hard as fuck.
I looked at Deshawn pissed with tears running down my cheeks. He looked at me confused. Before he could say anything I pushed him out of the room. "Get out!", I yelled as I pushed him. "Get the fuck out!", I yelled as he made it outside of the door. I slammed the door in his face then turned around towards Kingston leaning on the door.
When I saw his face I wanted to break down but I can't not in front of him. My baby is truly hurting and he looks tired as fuck. "Come here.", I said after opening my arms.
He walked to me trying to hold his tears in. When he made it to me I held him tightly. He broke down again.
After a while he stopped crying and I got myself together. "Go sit on your bed.", I said after clearing my throat. He did as told as he sniffed. I pulled his desk chair in front of him and sat down. I picked his head up and looked at him. "Kingston what's wrong?", I asked.
"Nothing.", he said looking away. I turned his head towards me.
"Kingston tell me what's wrong. Are you being bullied? Did somebody hurt you? D-"
"Yeah the dude that was supposed to be my grandpa but that's not it."
"Tell me what else is wrong.", I said.
"You don't care so what's the point?", he asked. I looked at him confused. Why wouldn't I care? I never gave him a reason for him to think I don't. "Yeah I said it. You don't care and Deshawn doesn't either. All you guys care about is grades this grades that. Sports this sports that. Extracurricular this extracurricular that. What about me? Y'all want me to have great grades. Every year all year long. Y'all want me to do basketball and football and baseball and I do. I'm in the robotics club and the debate team, for y'all. Getting good grades and being at the top is draining. Doing sports and all that extra stuff that I don't even like is draining. I'm trying to be the perfect person and it's draining. The fact that I don't even get acknowledged for it is sad and it hurts. I hate having to hide the real me, I hate having to do what I don't wanna do, and I hate having to live for everyone else." He let out a deep breath. "Damn it felt good getting that out." I had absolutely no idea that he felt like that. I feel horrible but I'm happy that he could get it out.
I told him that I was sorry that he felt like that and that I was sorry that I made him feel like that cause I really am and I told him that he didn't have to those things anymore and stuff.
After we talked him and Deshawn talked then me and Deshawn talked. Everyone is good now. I'm still taking him to a therapist though.
It turns out that he likes poetry and writing. He likes sports too just not feeling like he has to do them. I'm all for it. I still feel bad though.
