Wishing On Dandelions || Solby✔️ [[ORIGIN: @Demisee]]

Chapter 4

⚠️WARNING⚠️ (vulgar/offensive words/abuse)

SN: I do not support these words nor do I direct them to anyone, this is only for the sake of the story. Also, abuse is not something to take lightly and should not be inflicted on anyone no matter the reason; please be safe. Thank you <3

__ __ __

[Colby Brock:

The night was just as cold as it was when I left home. The streets were empty except for an occasional car or two and only the chirping of the crickets broke the defeaning silence around me.

I pulled out my phone for the second time that night, checking for any messages from my parents and whatnot. But then again, what did I expect. I sighed and shoved my phone back in my pocket before continuing my walk home.

And then, my thoughts began washing through me. I always got what I wanted. Anything I asked for I got it and yet I still didn't feel fully satisfied. It's something I was never able to figure out; why I felt like this. Why I felt like I was missing something despite already having everything.

I shook my head with a sigh and shoved my hands in my pocket.

When I arrived at my door step, most of the lights were turned on but nothing could be heard from the other side. I furrowed my brows in confusion and silently flipped over the welcome mat, grabbing the spare key I hid for times like this.

The door unlocked with a light click and, there, I was faced with the two people who gave birth to me and raised me till I was able to care for myself alone.

I stared at my parents in even more confusion than before and slowly shut the door behind me. "What are you guys doing up?" I asked slowly, taking off my jacket when I suddenly caught my mom's gaze behind my father.

A look I feared I'd ever have to experience was washed all over her face. She looked.. disgusted. I glanced at my father, the same look in my mother's eyes mirrored on his face. His face was red and he looked at me like I had murdered someone important to him. And maybe I have.

Before I can speak up again, my father dropped a phone on the counter in front of me and slid it towards me roughly. My eyes glanced down at the phone and I knew my world was over the moment I laid my eyes on it.

A picture of me and the male stripper leaving the back room of the bar flashed on the screen clearly in front of me. I stared at the screen for a few dreadful seconds before daring myself to meet my parents' eyes. Before I can even speak though, my father hit the nail right on the head:

"My son is no fag." -Strike

All the worries and fears I had surfaced and became my sad reality. All my expectations became true despite me believing I would be accepted. That they would except me. The little hope I held in my heart, hoping they'd see reason and support me as I am crashed down and got lost in my sea of wishes and wants. Those, those are the things I want yet are far from my reach.

The things that should have been given to me were lost. And now, I think I just lost my parents too.

After a while of silence I finally spoke up: "Your son is a fag, dad. He's gay, he likes men. And he's known it since he was 12 and you can't change that. No one can." With every word I spoke the look of disgust and hatred that continued to surface on my parents' faces. It hurt-

—SLAP

My head moved to the side with force, a stinging pain tingling through my cheek and the gasp of my mother behind my father adding up to my unfortunate realization. He hit me.

And he hit me without an ounce of hesitation.

"Get out of my house. And make sure I never see the disgusting sight of you again." He seethed, face filled with absolute anger and pure disappointment. I glanced at my mother with a weak, halfhearted smile and mouthed a simple 'sorry', when really, I wished she'd take me into her arms and tell me everything will be okay instead.

But dreams are too good to be true, aren't they.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" My father boomed, snatching me by the hair and shoving me back with a force that made my mother scream in terror. The force managed to trip me and I fell down on the marbled floor with a strong thud.

I cried out in pain when he kicked me in the stomach and shielded my face before he could get a lucky kick at my head. My father kicked me again and again before finally being stopped by my mother who stood in front of me and cried for him to stop.

"Get out of my way- !" "-LEAVE! GET OUT!" She screamed at me as she tried to keep him from hurting me any further. But the harm was done. And yet, their words managed to harm me more then my own father's beating.

What's done is done, and this reality is my fucked up reality.

-903 words