Aristotle sat in the closet listening to Someone like you by Adele.
"Yeah, I feel you Adele." He said whispering.
Its dark, his face is moist with tears, and junk food o' plenty is sprawled around the floor around him. The musty fragrance of weathered clothes and aged oak wood amplified the air. Day four of self-sulking; the remenets of an ex-boyfriend. His phone vibrated vigorously. Friends had been trying to contact him for days. "Where are you's?" and "Are you okay's?" congested his unread message history. He hasn't graced school with his presence in three days. Salvation in the form of the weekend presented itself.
"Thank God." He thought relieved.
Aristotle rested his head back, something tumbled off the shelf above landing abruptly in his lap. A golden yellow pendant. A present from his best friend Evan. The initials A and E had been engraved in a silver carving deep within the heart shaped pendent. He smiled but suddenly began to feel tears swell up behind his eyelids. He wrapped the gold cold chain around his neck clasping it in the back. He let his head fall into his lap, his legs pulled up to cover the hurt and pain. A knock suddenly sounded on the door.
"You done yet?" A frail female voice said from the other side of the old oak door.
"Great." Aristotle thought to himself annoyed.
He got up and wiped his face, turning off the music and facing whoever was on the other side.
"I'm okay." He said to himself reassuringly.
He draped a blanket onto his oracle of depression on the floor and rested his hand on the knob of the door. Opening it slowly.
His grandma stood their impatiently. Her eyes were a charcoal grey and her hair, that fell in waves of glossy silver-grey, was clean and neatly set. Her skin was aged with wisdom and her figure was small and frail. Her attitude above all, was that of a grumpy house wife.
"You done feeling sorry for yourself?" She said arms crossed.
"Gran-Gran please, not today."
Gran-Gran smirked mischievously "I think I may have a cure to what ails you." She spoke moving past him slowly.
Aristotle shuffled out of her way and watched her closely. She hunched herself over an old dusty box in the far back of the closet and began going through its contents.
"Gran, do you really think you should be hunched over that box like that?" Aristotle said worriedly.
She chuckled turning her head. "Ever since I joined the necklace club." She gestured at the golden heart dangling from his neck.
Aristotle blushed tucking the necklace into his shirt.
"I've been perfectly fine." A life alert necklace hung from her neck safely.
Gran-Gran put her attention back into moving the boxes contents. She suddenly gasped with delight pulling an object out of the box.
"Aha! Found you, you little shit."
Aristotle gasped. "Gran-Gran!"
She laughed. "Shh your mom doesn't let me cuss when she is home."
She handed the object off to Aristotle.
"Binoculars?" Aristotle said questioningly. "Great...Gran has finally lost it." He thought to himself.
Gran-Gran rose up, the sound of her frail bones popping like popcorn. She moved passed Aristotle and was making her way towards the door.
YOU ARE READING
LGBTQ+ Oneshots
Roman d'amour"We weren't accepted for who we were, we were persecuted, we were shamed, we were considered broken...but we rose out of the ashes of humanity and came back stronger then ever before." -Sontailslover2001
