summer

twenty two

        "Mom, you said you'd love me no matter what, right?" Dylan's entire body begins to shake.

       "Of course! Shoot, you're shaking, should I get your anxiety meds?"

       "I already took them today, but you'd really love me no matter what?"

      "Dylan, you're scaring me, of course I would. You and your brother are my favorite humans on this planet."

     "Mom...." Dylan feels himself start shaking, completely high on adrenaline. He stares at his feet, averting his own mother's gaze. "I'm bisexual."

       "I know. Honestly, I thought you were gay." Dylan turns to her, shocked.

      "Really? Do you hate me?" She laughs quietly and hugs him.

       "Of course not, Dylan. I'll always love you no matter what, I'm just a little confused on what this has to do with Sawyer. Wait... are you two dating? I know he's gay but I thought you hated him."

       "You knew? And... I don't know if we are or aren't, I really messed up. Mama, he hates me."

      "I'm sure he doesn't hate you. What happened?"

       "A lot. I had a panic attack and he kissed me and then I said I loved him and then I fucked up. I really fucked up, what if he does something bad?" Dylan cringes at his own words.

       "What do you mean, something bad? And that doesn't sound like you did anything wrong."

      "No, that's not what I did wrong. Mom, he's got some suicidal issues and what if he does something because he's upset? He cuts and he's on medication but what if he actually tries to kill himself? Mom..." Dylan's words are interrupted by a sob escaping his lips.

       "Suicide isn't about people, Dy, it's a mental thing. He wouldn't do that because of whatever you did, which I still don't understand. What happened?"

      "I messed up. My anxiety got really bad and I didn't want anyone thinking I was gay. I ignored Sawyer all morning and then he got sad. I made him sad. I went to his room because you told me to say hi, and he confronted me about it. I... I said something really bad that I didn't mean. He's really upset, he cried." Dylan stuffs his face into his hands.

      "That doesn't sound that bad, sweetie, I'm sure he doesn't ha-"

      "I said I didn't want people to think I was a fag!" Dylan sobs and feels his breaths getting quicker, a panic attack was coming.

       "Oh. Honey... at least you didn't call him a fag? Shoot, your breathing is iffy. In and out, in and out, it's okay, shhh," she hugs him but the panic attack is a pretty easy one. It passes quickly, with a little help.

      "Mama, I don't want him to hate me." Dylan feels small, weak. He should be the one protecting Sawyer, not hurting him.

       "Go talk to him."

>><<

Dylan sighs, tears lingering on his cheeks. He knocks lightly on Sawyer's door, stress filling his body. His mother was downstairs making lunch, she wanted to leave them alone. No one answers the door so he knocks again. Same thing.

"Sawyer, please answer, I'm sorry." No answer. "Come on, please! You're scaring me! You don't even have to open the door, just say something so I know you're okay." No. Answer. "Sawyer, I will open this door and come in. Please!" Still no answer. Dylan knocks one more time but the outcome is no different than his other attempts. He opens the door, luckily it wasn't locked. "Sawyer?" He doesn't even seem to be in his room. The windows locked from the outside (a weird tactic for child safety his mom had had applied when Dylan was young) so Sawyer wasn't outside. The only option was the bathroom.

"Sawyer, I'm coming in. I need to know that you're okay." Dylan opens the bathroom door a bit fearfully, but luckily Sawyer isn't naked.

"Leave me alone," he whispers, his wrists covering his face as he sits in the corner, rolled up in a ball. Dylan quickly glances around the room, seeing everything is normal except for one ominous thing. A bloody razor sitting on the side of the sink.

"Oh my god," cries Dylan, tackling Sawyer. "Show me your wrists right now!" Sawyer's face crumples again, despite how he attempts to hide it.

"No. Leave me alone, Dylan." Dylan brushes his hair out of his face, panic surging through his fragile body.

"Gah!" He grabs Sawyer's wrists, pulling them away from his face. Sawyer sobs and attempts to pull away his wrists, but he's weak.

Weaker than usual.