"I think you have internalized homophobia."
Philip looked at her, his mouth slightly curved.
"Jokes on you."
--
Philip is a seventeen year-old teenager who just wants to try to live. Severely affected by a fatal accident that he deems himself to be...
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"Here, lie down child," Mrs Fork propped up pillows for Philip on his bed.
He felt guilty for acting out and didn't think twice about hugging her close to himself from behind, his arms wound around her shoulders.
Mrs Fork smiled emotionally and patted his arm and cheek.
"I'm very sorry, I feel stupid now," Philip mumbled, pulling away.
Mrs Fork turned around to look at her son and cupped his cheeks.
"Never, ever, apologize for expressing how you feel, okay," she said and stood on her toes to kiss his forehead.
Philip nodded hesitantly.
"Good, now rest while I make some dinner," she squeezed her son's hand and left his room.
Philip lied down on his bed and looked at the bracelet on his wrist and smiled to himself.
"What a day," he muttered and dropped his wrist on his stomach and stared at the slightly open door of his closet.
He sighed restlessly and stood up and walked to his closet, and closing the door properly and glanced at his desk. He sighed once again before arranging the scattered pens, papers and pencils on his desk.
"Shit," he muttered when a paper tore through his index finger. "Annoying little shits."
He sucked on his index finger and continued to put away things with his left hand.
He smiled in satisfaction once he was done and trotted down the stairs.
"Dude what are you doing here, go back to bed," Clyde stood up from the couch when he noticed his brother standing next to him and pulled on his arm.
"I'm fine, done resting," Philip murmured and patted his brother's shoulder, shrugging off his arm.
"If you say so," Clyde spoke warily and sat down next to his brother. "Nice bracelet you have there."
Philip blushed.
"Thanks," he muttered.
Clyde didn't ask anything more.
"Boys, hey," Mrs Fork greeted her sons, leaning on the back of the couch. "Dinner is ready."
~
"What the fuck are you doing Phil?" Clyde asked when he saw his brother descending the stairs at seven thirty in the morning.
"Going to school," Philip answered cheekily.
"You're not well, you're supposed to rest for a day at least." Clyde argued, crossing his arms.
"That's gonna make me better how?" Philip spoke grabbing himself a bowl and pouring his favorite cereal into it.
"Get back to bed, Philip," Clyde adviced and grabbed the milk carton near his brother.
"I'm going to school, Clyde," Philip snatched the carton forcefully out of his brother's hands.
Just then the Carson twins opened the door to the living room of the Forks and looked at the two brothers with crazed eyes.
"Clyde, he needs to go to school! Look!" Carnel speedily walked towards Clyde and shoved his phone in front of Clyde's face. Clyde held Carnel's phone in a steady distance.
"What the fuck is this?" Clyde murmured.
"Show me," Philip peeped at the phone.
His heart dropped down to his stomach after he read the caption under a picture of him crying on the yellow couch in the library.
Gay, mentally ill and suicidal. Stay away from this faggot! Bastardo!
