One- the funeral

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Funerals; no one likes them. They are boring, slow, painful, and the speaker always talks in that lame monotone. It's like an unspoken rule that it should only be one sound, not counting the crying and sniffles, and that is the person who ever is standing at the podium speaking.

Now having Tourettes wasn't easy. Sure there were medications and things one could take to help with the tics, twitches, and urges for outbursts but none of those worked for Calum. They tried everything and it all seemed like a loss.

He was sitting in a nicely pressed expensive suit , one his father bought for him. His hands were pressed tightly together between his knees as he struggled to try to keep his Tourettes under some control.

His shoulders were haunched up and face slightly contouring from his twitches and the urge to speak or make a noise. His body jerked a little, another annoying twitch. He bit his lower lip so hard he could taste blood.

His beautiful dark brown eyes were glazed by tears. He was struggling, and he hated it. They were at his mothers funeral and he wanted nothing more then to be normal for once.

Even though the room only had about ten people, his father was still embarrassed by his sons twitches and ticks. He sat on the same bench but a few empty spaces was between them, his brand new young trophy wife was pressed against his side looking like she was actually upset. She was a good actress.

The Priest was going on about resting in peace and heaven being beautiful, or something along those lines. Calum couldn't focus, the urge was burning and boiling up as if he was about to spew.

"Shut up , you fucking pedophile!" Calum regretted his words the second they flew out of his mouth. He winced pressing his knees tighter into his hands. He heard the quiet gasps and could feel surprised stares burning into the back of his head.

He felt another twitch, his face scrunched and body shivered as he glanced over seeing the expression of embarrassment coming from his father and his lame blonde trophy wife.

He again bit harshly down on his lower lip, feeling eyes brimming with tears again. He started rocking a little in place, removing his hands from between his knees to press them firmly to the bench. He started to dig his nails into the wood, wanting some control as he felt another build up coming.

After the long awkward silence the priest started speaking again, something about how his mother tried her best to be there for all those in her life.

Calum scrunched up his face and made a loud snort and whistle when he heard his name. He quickly shook his head not wanting to see the expressions of the priest who was trying his hardest to ignore calums uncontrollable outbursts.

"Cunt licking fucking faggot!" With the new urge to move, Calum threw his arms into the air and kicked out his legs in a childlike manor. He grunted trying to take some control.

His eyes fluttered closed , unable to contain himself anymore. "You dye your hairy pubes fucking ginger!" Calum gulped hard, wishing he could swallow the words he just said.

He could hear whispers of anger and embarrassment and judgement coming from behind him. He could see his father tugging at his tie, clearly upset at his sons outbursts. Not upset that he was having them, upset from embarrassment and possibility of being judged.

Calums father cleared his throat and nodded at the shocked priest, wanting him to continue.

Calum haunched forward as his tics caused his body to twitch and jerk. He whimpered loudly in squeaky tones, squeezing his eyes closed and pursing his lips firmly together.

He couldn't take the whispers,stares, and judgement any longer. He couldn't handle the looks of embarrassment and shame coming from his father.

With a twitch Calum jumped to a stand tensing up his arms and fingers, letting them awkwardly curl and uncurl. He turned and stormed down the  middle path between the church benches, trying to get to the doors before another noisy outburst over took him.

His body jerked and head turned to the left curling chin into his own shoulder which raised up and forward to meet it. His right hand oddly pressed to his chin, trying to cause pain to himself at the angle. Pain sometimes helped him gain some control.

"Fuck! Fucking fuckity fuck!" He tried to speak below his breath but the people he passed gasped and shifted in their seats. He was ashamed.

Calum started to run the last few steps, feeling the twitches and urges coming like he was about to puke everywhere. He burst through the doors letting them loudly bang close behind him.

He slowed to a stop few feet from the doors, body bent slightly over. His hands clawed at his own chest as his body jerked and twitched from his ticks.

He wanted one day. One day of freedom from his chaotic illness, a day to mourn the death of his mother. A day to be normal.

He felt tears streaming down his face. "Fucking- god damnit mother fucking cunt licking -fuck!!" He was now screaming in anger.

Calum started to pace as he cried and screamed curse words in anger. He kicked at random flowers or objects he passed. He was letting the rage take over.

He threw himself into the brick wall, letting his body feel the pain. He was now shaking and slowly sliding down into a sit as he grew quiet. His face kept twitching and words kept trying to form but only grunts, whimpers and gasps came from him.

He hugged his knees close to his chest as he whimpered out a word he commonly used, "c-cunt"

He wanted to wallow in self pity but that time was cut short as his father stormed out of the church looking angry.  

"Get your ass up, we are leaving. Let's go, now!" His father didn't even bother stopping to Check if his son was okay. He just headed straight toward the car.

Calum slowly stood and nodded, he followed and soon got into the car. Before he could even put on his seat belt his father was already pulling out of the parking spot and heading out on the street.

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