Skinny Boy ✔

Chapter 53: I don't know

I texted mom to let her know I'd be walking home that day. I needed the fresh air and time alone to think, no matter how sore my legs were. 

Of course, she was having none of it. To me, it was time to clear my head. To her, it was an excuse to try getting some exercise in, or worse--an opportunity to try 'running away' again. So, she caught up with me a few blocks from the school, pulling over and demanding I get in. She was not happy, to say the least. I let out a sigh and obliged, saying nothing. 

When she pulled up, she looked ready to lecture me on leaving when she specifically said not to. But seeing how compliant I was being, and how ready I was to just get in the vehicle so we could get home soon as possible, it all melted into an unreadable expression. I think she was a little shocked at how quickly I listened after weeks of fighting and refusing everything they asked of me. This time around, however, I hopped into the vehicle without a word, her eyes on me the whole time. 

She stared at me for a second before managing the words from her mouth. "Are you okay?" 

Her voice sounded like home, and that only made me long for it all the more. 

I had to turn and face the window to hide the brimming tears. I was too tired to hide my emotions, so with my forehead resting against the window, I shrugged. And it was the truth. I wasn't sure what was wrong, but I knew something wasn't right. 

Somehow, I managed to hold back the tears the whole care ride, but the moment the car came to a stop, I had already unbuckled and opened the door, and was soon rushing up the porch. Tears dropped to random places on the ground along the way. I was wiping away a mixture of snot and tears when mom caught up to me, backpack thrown aside. With the front door shut, and the rest of the world shut away, there was nothing to stop me from breaking down. 

So, that's what I did.

She shut the door behind her as she started to say something, but was interrupted mid-sentence by me throwing my arms around her. She was taken aback by the teenage boy sobbing against the crook of her neck, sputtering indiscernible words through his tears. 

When she finally managed to snap out of her state of shock, she wrapped her arms around me, rubbing my back as she muttered comforting words. 

I could feel the presence of another person in the house, and my hunch was proven to be correct when she half-whispered for Jamie to go upstairs, and that there was "nothing to see here." 

When my sobs died down enough to hear her speaking loud and clear, she held me in front of her, being mindful of my bad shoulder, and looked at me with the aching heart of a mother in her eyes. "Sweety, what happened?" 

My lip quivered, air still seeming to be a hard thing to come by these days. "I..." And with that, another round of tears began. 

"I want to help you," she said. "But I can't do that if you don't tell me what's wrong." 

I sucked in a sharp breath. "I can't do it." 

"Can't do what?" she furrowed her brow. 

"Everything. All of it." Another shaky breath. "All the stares, all the-the talking." 

She pulled me into another hug, just in time for a few more sobs to hiccup out of me. "I hate being around people." I shook my head, getting a face-full of her blonde hair clinging to my sticky, snot-layered lips. I didn't care; it was the least of my worries. 

"Why?" she asked. 

"It's just...it's too hard." She didn't need to hear any more of my choked out explanations, but the floodgates were already opened. I didn't see a point in closing them again...in closing myself off again. "Why am I like this? I don't understand, why am I like this?"