sick of losing soulmates

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this is inspired by the song "sick of losing soulmates" by dodie clark

if you haven't heard it it's a really beautiful song yet sad so be warned

here it is

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Mitch had his gaze on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around himself and tears steadily flowing down his cheeks. His father was lecturing him at his side, but he wasn't listening, though he'd probably get punished for it later.

Screaming ripped Mitch from his thoughts. It was a male's voice, and he immediately tensed at the sound of it, looking up to see a boy struggling as the guards tried to pull him into the therapy room. Mitch's heart rate picked up and he frantically tried to meet the boy's eyes, shaking his head quickly. The boy locked eyes with Mitch and froze, and Mitch took the opportunity to mouth a simple, "Don't." He didn't want the boy to be punished — he was too pretty for that.

However, as soon as the thought that the boy was pretty came into Mitch's mind, he tried to stamp it out as quickly as he could. No, Mitch. It's wrong. You can't be gay. The boy watched Mitch for a second too long, and the guards roughly pulled him inside. Mitch felt his heart sink and his tears fell faster, but he reached his hand up to try and wipe them away.

+++

The boy was thrown out of the therapy room when his session was finished. He was trembling violently, and every movement seemed to cause him pain. Mitch happened to finish at the same time, and he nervously edged out of the room, searching for his father. When he saw that his father hadn't arrived yet to pick him up, he looked around for a hint at what he was supposed to do. However, instead he saw the boy. His eyes widened and he rushed over to his side, shaking hands helping him up. "Are you okay?"

The boy almost melted at the sound of his voice, blushing. "I'm fine," he said quietly, wrapping his arms around his stomach in an effort to hide the fact that they were quivering. Mitch opened his mouth to say more, but a woman dressed impeccably with a clipboard in her arm marched over and roughly grabbed Mitch by the shoulder to pull him away, leaving the boy to stare sadly after him. "Bad Mitchell. Your father will be informed about this," she told him, and the boy's heart broke at how panicked that seemed to make him. "Please. Please, don't. I- I don't want to be punished, please, please—"

The woman cut him off with a harsh slap to the face. "Shut up." The boy frowned from his spot across the waiting room, starting over. "Hey, wait. Don't do that," he said, but Mitch just looked at him with those tear-filled eyes and shook his head. The woman scoffed quietly and tightened her grip on Mitch's shoulder. The brunet winced, but didn't say anything. "I'll do whatever I want, Mr. Hoying. You have no right to boss me around. You're nothing but another homosexual that needs to be straightened out," the woman snapped, and the boy's eyes flashed. "Being gay isn't wrong. Why do you care if a man is with another man?" The woman stepped away from Mitch to grab the boy by his ear and tug him right back into the therapy room.

Mitch watched, trembling. He wished he could save the boy — or at least try — because he had tried to save him. However, he didn't dare. He had no desire to be punished, get no dinner, and sleep in the cage that night. Although, knowing his father, he'd probably have to anyway.

+++

Mitch blinked awake at the sound of his father yelling at him to wake up, his vision hazy and his breathing weak. He was curled in a ball in his cage, his muscles aching with every move he made. However, despite how much he just wanted to curl up and die, he forced himself to crawl out of the cage and get dressed.

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