Safe Travels

Drag Me To Hell

The court date was pushed back a month, which meant I had to stay with my grandmother for three months instead of two. Which meant I would be in school by the time the court date rolled around.

The first week of my stay had been uneventful. Grandma left me alone, for the most part. I was pretty angry with her for doing what she did. I had been living with her for a week and a half by the time she brought up the metaphorical elephant in the room.

"So. Mary told me you were gay."

I nodded but didn't meet her eyes. I knew exactly where this was going. I could tell by the passive aggressiveness in her voice. Her body was tense, like a coiled snake.

"Is it true?"

I was about to answer, but she cut me off, "because you know that's a sin."

I scoffed and had to resist breaking out into laughter. I just loved it when religious people said things like that, as if everyone shared her exact same views.

"What kind of things did my little boy put into your head?"

I looked up at her finally, allowing all the hatred in my eyes to be seen. How can someone sound so spiteful towards their own child?

"Nothing. I have a mind of my own. And nothing you or anyone else says can change that. I don't want to live here. If you want to kick me out because I'm an 'abomination' then go ahead. Make my day you old witch."

With that I stood and left.

• • •

I didn't get back to the house until around midnight. I got an earful about being responsible and respectful and whatever other 'R' words I didn't care about. I let her go on until she sent me to my room.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw I had a text from Alaine.

Moving in with Thomas. Got evicted from my apartment :(. This will be over soon love. <3 goodnight

My heart fluttered and several emotions hit me at once. Affection, love, sadness, but mostly desperation.
I wanted to be on my futon at home, I wanted to hold Alaine and go to that nice cafe with Thomas. They were my family. This woman I was living with may share blood with me, but we weren't family. I didn't feel at home here.

I needed to get out.

I felt myself spiraling out again, overcome with emotions I couldn't control. The whole situation felt helpless, and I hated it. This whole thing was dragging me back to hell.

I wasn't sure why I did what I did next, but with my hands shaking and my breath uneven I couldn't really control it. Maybe giving a depressed kid an X-acto knife wasn't a good idea. Maybe keeping a depressed kid holed up in the back room wasn't a good idea. Maybe grandmother should've locked my window. But when the blood started dripping into my hands, I didn't think about maybe's. When it started falling into the grass like crimson tears, I stopped thinking altogether.

I passed out slumped against the wall next to my window. The next morning dressing and hiding my wounds was a drag, but I felt significantly better. The days went by torturously slow.

Two months passed uneventfully, and I had accepted my fate. I was eating breakfast before heading to school. My grandmother was on the phone, chewing someone out, but I wasn't very interested.

It wasn't until I really started listening that I realized she was on the phone with a lawyer.

"No! You can't make it tomorrow! Because she needs to be here- hey don't you hang up on me young man!"

I smiled like an idiot.

Score!