PROLOGUE
A small boy lies curled up in his bed, trying to hide himself.
The screams and shouts of his parents echoed throughout the empty, cold house. A small toddler girl, snuggled in his arms, fusses in her sleep. A loud crash, followed by a cry of pain, makes the boy flinch and tear up. He pulls the baby girl close and covers his ears.
'Dad is hurting mom again' The boy cries softly, so as not to be heard, weeping at the unfairness of the world. Hours later, his bedroom door opens, and a soft hand touches his cheek.
"Ian, my baby boy, I've got to go for a while, ok?" A woman's voice calls softly. The boy sits up, wiping his tears.
"How long will you be gone?" The boy sniffles.
"Mom is going to live with Uncle Sam for a while, just so she can make dad's company bigger. Make sure you take good care of Naomi. Don't forget to clean up after yourself, and get good grades in school." The boy's mother ruffles his hair and kisses him on the cheek.
"I love you buddy. I'll be back in a few years. I know that sounds like a long time but, I'll be back before you know it. I just have to make dad happy."
The boy nods, refusing to cry.
'I have to protect Naomi. I'm alone now.' the boy thinks to himself, determined.
His mother stands up and walks away, her feet softly padding down the hallway.
"Don't you see now why we can't be together?" I whispered at the crazy boy in front of me.
"Aren't you repulsed by me? Disgusted? Dis interested? Can't you just tear my heart out and leave like any other normal teenage boy?" My voice cracked.
He simply shook his head.
"Sweetheart, I thought I made it clear from the first time I said it," He paused, "I. Like. You." He emphasized every word, and I gaped at him.
"Hell of a lot, actually, so it'd be great if you stopped being salty and liked me back."
"Don't you get it?" I whispered unbelievingly, "After all that, and you still don't get why I can't be with you?" He seemed relaxed, calm. Too calm for this situation.
"My life doesn't involve a guy like you, Nathan. Never did. You're not my knight in shinning armor, and you aren't going to save me. This is reality, the real world. And the real world doesn't have happy endings."
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To me, there's are six different types of crying.
One; The Breakdown.
Two; The Longing.
Three; The Hysterical.
Four; The Broken.
Five; The Happy.
Six; The Inevitable."
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This short story is very depressing, I'm warning you now. It may trigger memories, or depression symptoms.