Creekington High's Pretty Boy (BXB)

SIX

TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF SUICIDAL ACTIVITIES

"Firstly, I am so sorry such a thing happened to you. Would you like to talk about it?"

"We can, yeah." I said ignoring his apology, "My dad had BPD. I'm sure you are familiar with that?"

"Yes." He nodded, "It's a very heavy mental illness."

"It is." I nodded, "My Ma was his person I guess. Their relationship was pretty toxic from what I can remember. My childhood is hard to remember, honestly."

"Why do think it's hard to remember?"

"I'm not sure honestly." I shrugged, "An old therapist of mine thinks I got PTSD from it."

"I see, we can look into that more if you wish?"

"Yeah. Anyway, Pa would do this thing we're he would threaten suicide to my Ma if they argued or something. At first it wasn't in front of me . . . but then it was."

"Would you like to share one of those experiences with me?" He asked softly

"I can't share the one where he was successful, it's t-too much." I muttered

"I don't expect you to. It's something very traumatic."

"I'll tell you the one I remember the most."

Flashback ~

Their doing it again. Yelling. Pa must be off his medicine. It's not like it helps much anyway. At least that is what Grandpa Joanie says. I'm not too sure what it means. I take medicine for my tummy aches. Maybe Papa has a bad tummy ache and fights with Mama for it.

I tiptoed out of my room, opening my door softly. My Pa stood their, yelling at the top of his lungs. My mother mirrored his actions. There jaws were clenched, cheeks flushed, and hands were thrown in the air. Even though I was listening I couldn't decipher what they were saying. It just seemed mean. Everything feels hazy.

I don't like when they fight.

Why must they be so angry? Don't they love each-other? Don't they love me?

"Well if I'm such an awful guy why am I even here?"

"No!" My mother screamed, scrambling to grab the gun out of my fathers hand. One I hadn't noticed previously.

My eyebrows knitted as I watched my mother who began sobbing, dropping to her knees. Tears cascaded along her face as she plead for my father to put the gun down. Mama is so sad.

However, he didn't, he simply stood there. Gun in hand, looking down at my mother. A single tear ran down his cheek as he cocked the gun, bringing it to his head.

What is he doing? Only bad guys use guns. Is Pa a bad guy? But wouldnt bad guys shoot good guys? Why is Papa shooting himself? Doesn't he know that can hurt him?

I wanted run and knock the gun out his hand but I couldn't. My body wouldn't let me. Tears filled my eyes as I continued to watch the scene. Scolding myself for not being able to stop it.