Shawn Mendes Imagines

Your Child Isn't Straight

Warning; mentions of self-harm and homosexuality names. If any of this offends you or upsets you please do not read.

"Anyone home?" You hear Amira Renee's voice echo through your home, coming from the back door where she enters everyday after school.

"Hey baby," Shawn smiles up at her before returning to cutting up the zucchini like you instructed him to do, while you stand on the other side of the kitchen making the stew you were going to eat for dinner, silently praying that Shawn won't chop off his finger since he doesn't cook much-- at all.

"Did you have a good day?" you ask without looking up, waiting for a response.

When you only get a sniffle, you quickly spin around, narrowing your gaze on her and seeing that she was wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

You walk closer to her, hitting an oblivious Shawn in the shoulder on your way.

"Ow! Hey, I'm trying to-- Amira?" He immediately shifts gears and races over towards the barstool where Amira has fallen into the seat, her face in her palms as you stroke her hair, adjusting to her sudden outburst.

"Sweetheart, what happened today?" Shawn asks, concerned. She wasn't crying very hard, but it slowly got worse, her shoulders shaking as she leaned on the counter, her pink lips parted.

At first it was that she couldn't answer, too deep in her tears to manage a response. But now you realized she wouldn't tell you because she didn't want to, that her holding back was intended.

Shawn clenches his jaw. "What's going on? You can tell us."

"They found out," Amira says sullenly, her eyes blotchy and dripping with tears as she slowly lays back down and sobs into her arms.

"Who found out?" you ask.

"Everyone, the whole... the whole school knows about m-me and... and Riley. They know that I'm... that I'm gay."

"So? Who cares what they think?" you rub her back with your palm.

"I do, Mom! They... they called me a dyke, they said me and Riley should start a queer club. Everyone, my teachers, even... they all kn-know. They don't treat me the same."

She pulls her side-braid away from her face and throws it over her shoulder, sniffling again before saying, "I know I shouldn't care what anyone thinks, but it's not fun to get called names for being who I am, I was finally happy. I can never be happy. I never get to be happy," she was rambling now, a habit she has when she tries to hold or pull herself together.

"I wish I could be like Riley," she sobs. "She kissed me in front of everyone, she didn't care. She feels bad now, but we got in a fight about it because she told me I shouldn't give a crap if people think it's wrong. But I told her it still hurts, and she got mad.. "

"... Is it over?" you ask, afraid of the response.

She presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes shut, breaking again.

"Sweet girl," Shawn cradles her, his arms wrapping fully around her as he holds her head with both of his hands, swaying back and forth. "It'll be okay, it'll be over soon. I promise."

"What do you know?" she yells, the only way to get a sentence out without stuttering or taking a minute to cry.

"I don't know much," he says softly. "But I know what it's like to be told you're different, when you're just being yourself. And it sucks. I'm sorry you have to go through that," Shawn's eyes start to well up with tears as he holds her closer.

"You haven't... Amira, please tell me you haven't hurt yourself in any way..." Shawn's voice cracks as he desperately cries into her shoulder while she cries into his.

She doesn't respond, which makes you bring your fingers to your lips in one swift motion, biting down on your nails. You couldn't picture your daughter, your own flesh and blood, hating herself more than she hates anything else.

Shawn's dark eyes become darker as they widen slowly, his hands shaking as his breath becomes about as even has a staircase, rising and falling and going in and out as quick as a heartbeat. You thought he was going to pass out, and you felt the same way.

His bottom lip quivers as you feel yourself reaching out to him, getting nothing but the fabric of his maroon sweater.

"Amira," he manages through his first sob, "Please..."

"I... I did," she speaks weakly. "I did."

"No," Shawn denies. "No.. you were so happy... Please don't--"

"I won't ever do it again," she promises.

"Let me see," Shawn cries, his eyes growing red.

"I don't want to show you," she says quickly. "Neither you or Mom could handl--"

"Show me right now, Amira Renee."

He grabs her arms, sliding up the sleeve of one and seeing for himself the fresh, open wounds that go from Amira's wrist to the middle of her forearm, red and seemingly deep, her skin caked with a dried flow of blood.

You and Shawn must've felt the same thing, because you feel the two of your hands find each other and grip tightly, holding on to each other in attempt to ease the pain, but also a sign of, oh my god, the daughter we made and raised did this to herself.

You could hardly find words, hardly find breath. It was so overwhelming to see.

It's one thing when six year old Amira comes running in the back door, crying her eyes out because she fell off her bike and got a scrape on her knee, and so you put a bandaid on it and watch Shawn give her a magic healing kiss on the boo-boo so she was all better.

It's another thing when she does it to herself, and all the magic healing kisses in the world could not heal the deep thing inside of her that has caused her to hate herself enough to do it.

"Amira," Shawn's voice shakes again, "we'll homeschool you, we won't send you to therapy, we'll do whatever the hell you want if you just look me in the eyes and tell me that you will never do this again, no matter what is happening. There is literally so much love in my heart for you, Amira, if you gave me a copy room full of papers to write down all of my love, it will not be enough. You and Mom are the best thing that has ever happened to me. And you, Jesus Christ, Amira, I would do absolutely anything for you. If you're gay, if you're pregnant, whatever the case may be, I'll love the hell out of you no matter what. And it hurts that you didn't remember that when you did this."

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If self-harm, depression, bullying, or struggle dealing with homosexuality is something you're going through, please know there is always a better answer that hurting yourself.

I myself have been through some of those things so if you ever need to talk to someone, please MESSAGE ME I DONT BITE (unless maybe you bite me first).

seriously I love you guys and you're all very beautiful and if I was Shawn I would do you!!

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