Baggage (LGBTQ+) (BOY X BOY)

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

вєαr

I hated this place.

I hated the sickly shade of white lathered on every wall, I hated the bright haunting lights that adorned every hallway, and I absolutely hated my lack of freedom.

I wanted more than anything to escape this barbaric confining institution that treated me like some animal.

As I prowled my way down the halls— the haunting lights that seemed forever flickering never failed to raise the hairs on my neck.

I sauntered my way into room 346 and perched tiredly onto my bed running my hands through my frizzy tangles.

There were no windows— no personality on the walls of the bedroom that I spent three of my viable teenage years isolated in.

Apparently, it was too dangerous to hang picture frames or put posters on the relentlessly plain walls of this boring confinement.

I buried my hands deeper into my ratty curls, the same curls my mother used to brush softly and gel back while humming her favorite melody.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a person warned me; she did this! She threw you in here to suffer at fourteen years old. She's the cause of your misery!

And they might be right.

But that doesn't change the fact that she's my mother.

My very flesh and blood.

Although she hurt me, I could never hate her.

Not even as she yelled profanities about how much of a disgusting nuisance I was.
On how I ruined her life and wrecked her marriage.

And maybe she was right.

At this moment a blonde lady with crystal blue— almost clear eyes and baby blue hospital scrubs strolled in with my medication. They didn't let me line up with the others in fear that I might attack the other patients.

It was probably for the best anyways, my IED was never one hundred percent in check.

The lady whom I remembered to be Amanda gave me the miniature cup of pills and a water bottle to swallow.

This was the routine I followed daily. Go to the group session, then back to confinement to take relentless amounts of medication and eventually pass out from drowsiness.

I took the pills and offered her a small smile to which she returned sadly. I'd been here for three years and all the staff was already hyper-aware of my existence.

When she exited my humble abode and closed the door with an insufferable click, I released all pent up frustration into my pillow.

I punched and punched and punched until my arms were sore and my lip had busted from being bitten so hard.

I laid back with a thunk, panting softly and letting tears glide softly down my flushed cheeks.

It wasn't uncommon for me to have random episodes like this. The group sessions taught me how to release pent up frustrations, and to avoid at all costs physically hurting myself or the people around me.

I felt my medicine taking effect and I slowly but surely felt myself falling into a hopeless slumber.

        🥀

"Wake up the early bird, rise and shine!"

I woke up with a start; hand clutching my erratically beating heart.