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I need to clear my drafts (Micheal Afton drabble

     Micheal listened to his mother's screams at him. "I raised you better than this!" He received a thunk on the head with the magazine his mom had found. "This? This is wrong, Micheal, I taught you better. You know that a boy dating a boy is wrong." Micheal stayed silent. "You know that-" "That you and Dad will kick me out, no longer care for me, blah blah blah, I already know! You've said that countless times before, Mother!" Micheal shouted, tilting his head in annoyance at his birther's redundancy with her lectures. "Micheal Afton! You will-" "Not speak to me in that way ever again! Do you understand me?!" Micheal finished her sentence, mocking her by knowing the monologue word for word. His mother gasped and laughed. "You-" "Think you're smart, hm? Smart by mocking and making fun of me? Smart by disrespecting your mother?" Micheal chuckled, smiling and doubling over laughing. "It's the same! Every fuckin' time! Every time it's:" He paused to make his voice high and whiny. "Oh, Micheal! This is wrong! You're supposed to know how to control who you love! You're supposed to like girls, not boys! You're supposed to wear button-downs and slacks! Not frilly dresses and tights!" Micheal shouted angrily, stamping his foot into the linoleum floor. "Well, I don't give a shit about what you want for me! 'Oh, we only want what's best for you-' NO! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT! YOU AND WILLIAM SHAPING ME INTO WHAT YOU WANT! NOT WHAT I WANT! I JUST WANNA BE FREE. I'M EIGHTEEN NOW, AND I'M PACKING UP AND STAYING WITH TREVOR." Micheal yelled, storming off to his room and packing everything he needed. He grabbed a week's worth of clothes, the fifty dollars he kept for emergencies, and his phone, charger, and wallet. He put everything in his backpack, somehow fitting it all in with the school supplies. He froze as he heard heavy footsteps. 'No no no no no! Not right-'

"MICHEAL FUCKING AFTON."