✅ A Dose of Humiliation

17. Acceptance

Author's note: Sorry, this chapter is late. That's the first time I've actually had a day with no chapter posted in 18 months. But I'm saying this counts as yesterday's chapter; so I'll try to post one today as well if I can get over various mental health issues.

This one is also bothering me, because I can now see two possible endings for this story. The one I originally planned is probably more "fair", but I can think of an alternate one that would probably be more satisfying to some of the people commenting here, and it's hard to focus on the one I'm actually aiming for.

This chapter is dedicated to D.C.. Thank you for your support! The bonus chapter should really be one in addition to the regular one for a day, but I don't want to put off thanking you any longer. So I'll try to remember to post an actual extra chapter for you when I'm back on form.

Thank you!

"Lorna?" The voice at the door was Walt's, my little brother. I hesitated for a minute before replying. I hadn't said anything to Dad when he was yelling before, but I felt bad about letting Walt worry.

"Sorry, bro. I'm not feeling so good."

"Is it the punishment thing? Can you tell me about it?"

I hesitated for a moment. I wanted to talk to him, even if I seldom did. If only so I could be sure that my parents weren't being cruel to him too. I thought for so long that I couldn't be sure if he'd walked away, but I finally opened the door.

Walt wasn't in my room often. I didn't know if that was because I didn't want him seeing my stuff, or because he didn't care enough. But we pretty much kept to ourselves unless our parents made us do something together. Stepping in now, he seemed like this weird little alien interloper, nervously recoiling from every pink surface or object as if femininity were a contagious disease. I sprawled back on the bed, letting him take the office chair. I'd never really thought about decorating the place, it had been evolving since I was a little kid. There were still remnants of past crazes all over the room, things that had just been absorbed into the background as the zeitgeist drifted away.

"You missed dinner," he said. I would have said something sarcastic, but I didn't have time before there was a bag of nacho chips flying towards my face. "They're worried about you, you know?"

"I don't think so. They've been hoping for this for so long. Looking for any excuse they can use to ruin my life. They talk so much about doing the right thing, but they get so upset when I actually do it. What's with that?"

"Like breaking a window?"

"No. Like doing first aid when the new transfer student got beaten by racists. I told Dad because I was proud I helped someone, and he never let me live it down. Telling me I'm reckless, I should have tried harder not to be near a victim. Like I should just walk past on the other side of the road when a black kid's bleeding. That's where all this started. And they _still_ say that doing the right thing matters more than money or success, but they get angry if I actually live by that. So they've just been waiting for something they can use as an excuse to punish me."

"They wouldn't do that."

"No? Mum gave me another shot in the car. For being late to school, can you believe it? When I wasn't even late, well, not officially. You'd think they'd at least check the attendance record before she jabs me with a needle, wouldn't you?"

"They said you were due one for not coming back last night. Wasn't that it?"

"I'm eighteen, Walt. I can stay over with friends if I want to. They can only punish me for breaking rules I already agreed to. And I let them know where I was so they wouldn't have to worry."