The Weight //Shameron//

"I'm sorry! I swear. I didn't mean to!" I desperately plead.

"It's too late for that, son. No one wants you. You have no friends, I don't want you, hell your own mother didn't want you! If anything, I'm doing you a favor, you no good son of a bitch."

"Wait. Doesn't that mean you're the bitch? I am your son." I fight back, but soon regret when I feel his hand come across my cheek.

"Don't you dare argue, you idiotic boy!" He said kicking me in my stomach. "I swear, this'll make everything easier for everyone."

Now I was scared shitless. He brought the knife behind his head and was about to bring it down. I quickly turned hoping to scurry away, but was too late. I felt the blade of the knife sink down in my back.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

By now I'm unconscious and who knows how many more times that knife hit my back.

xxxxx

The next time I woke up, I was surrounded by machines, saline bags, and that flat-line machine.

I was in a hospital.

I looked around, expecting my father to be standing in the entrance telling the doctor some fake sob-story, on how I was facing depression and cut my self, and he was just in time to find.

When in reality, it was he who caused this.

The doctor questioned his story one or two times, asking why I cut my back and not something more easy to reach, like my wrists or legs.

My fathers replies were always the same, "How the hell am I supposed to know? You think I sat there and watched my kid self harm himself?!"

The doctor never questioned him ever again. Some doctor.

But instead of my father being there, a woman, in her mid thirties was standing next to my bed, her arms folded and her facing towards the floor. Next to her was a girl, around the age of 12 or 13, sleeping. She had long brown hair.

I cleared my throat hoping to get the mystery ladies attention. Her head snapped up and she looked at me in pure shock, and happiness.

"Aaliyah. Aaliyah! He's awake!" She said shaking the girl awake. I'm guessing her name is Aaliyah.

Aaliyah snapped up, and looked at me in awe. I started to feel kind of uncomfortable, so I gave sort of an awkward smile.

"Uh, hi." I awkwardly say, fumbling with my hands, that are so much more pale. And I'm not a tan person, so my hands are insanely pale.

"Hi, Shawn." The lady says.

"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but...do I know you...?"

"Shawn, I'm your mother." (A/N I don't know Shawn's mom's name, so we're just gonna avoid that completely)

In that moment I'm pretty damn sure all the color was drained from my face.

"Mo-mother?" I manage to stutter out.

"Aaliyah, will you give your brother and I some time please. Why don't you head down to the cafeteria." She quickly nodded and rushed out the door.

Brother?

13 years of anger was welled up inside me and I'm taking this opportunity to let it all out.

"Mother? Mother?! The same 'mother' that left me when I was still learning how to use the restroom properly? The same 'mother' that refused to look back, no matter how much a pleaded and begged, to meet her. The same 'mother' who was heartless enough to leave her son with that- that... monster?!"

The reason I'm here.

I don't say that though.

I finish my rant, and look up at her to see she has tears in her eyes, but she's trying so hard not to cry.

Curse my angel like personality; "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off on you like-"

"Don't apologize, Shawn. Not for my mistakes. I know you must really hate me right now, but I-I couldn't stay there. I had to leave."

"You could have taken me?!" I exclaim.

" I felt that you needed a male role model!" She argued. And in my 13 years of living with my father, I learned that arguing gets you absolutely nowhere.

"Speaking of, where is my father?" I ask looking around once more.

My mother looks at her shoes.

"Mom?" Wow. It feels so weird saying those words.

"You called me mom." She says.

And I'm about to take it back if you don't tell me where the hell my damn father is. But instead I settle for a simple 'yeah'.

"Shawn, your father, ran."

"Ran? Ran where?"

"We don't know. Your neighbors heard screaming coming from your house, so they ran in and saw your father holding a knife and you passed out. So they called the police. But by the time they got here, your father was long gone. They put out an APB for him."

"So, where do I go? I'm still a minor."

"That you are. So you will be moving in with Aaliyah, your sister, and I."

"Wait. You live in Canada?"

"No sweetheart, I live in California. Child Services already packed all of your stuff and you're ready to go as soon as the doctors let you go."

"Oh." Was all that was able to come out of my mouth. "So, what about Aaliyah. Is she my half-sister or..?"

"No Shawn, I got pregnant with Aaliyah when you were three years old. Same father." Oh, so the same year you left.

"Oh. Okay."

For the rest of the night, mom explained what Cali is like, and how I would make a whole bunch of friends there.

I wasn't too worried about making friends. I was never bullied, and I had a lot of friends at my old school here in Pickering.

Truth be told, I was excited. Excited to get the hell out of here. But I was also quite scared. Scared because I wasn't ready to leave Canada. Scared because I didn't know if my father would find me. Scared to let go of my friends here.

Scared to leave my safety net.

Authors Note: Okay, so this chapter was really short, but I like it. I have really been obsessing over 'Shameron' so I decided to write a fanfic about it, because there aren't enough.

I love Shawn and Cameron, they are my two favorite.

I hope you like this book

But um yeah.

~Hayden~